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Serious swimmers

Pale from night living and wasted by narcotics, Gail reaches into the pool to find her son

By Michel Faber   January 2005

There were a couple of hiccups between Gail and Ant before they even got to the swimming pool.

For a start, “My name’s not Ant. It’s Anthony,” the child said. Now why did he have to say that, with the social worker right there in the car with them, listening to everything? For a few moments (none of Gail’s emotions lasted very long) she hated her little boy so much she couldn’t breathe, and she hated the social worker even more, for being there to hear Ant’s complaint. She wished the social worker could die somehow and take the knowledge…

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