What Not To do with Olive Oil

Submitted into Contest #53 in response to: Write a story about another day in a heatwave. ... view prompt

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General

I can’t tell you how many times someone has asked me about the scars on my skin. The blobs, patches and discoloration.


I don’t mind telling them because I really haven’t got a clue as to why I did it to myself. Yes, I admit it was my fault and I should have had more sense, but at the time, for some reason, I didn’t.


I’d been listening to mum and dad talking about their holidays with nan and granddad. Their childhood and the things they did that people don’t do any more.


They used to spend a week at the same B & B each year at Bognor. They’d have their breakfast and then go and find a nice spot on the beach where they could sunbathe for the rest of the day.


I always wondered why everyone but me had a lovely tan. I’m not a sun worshiper-they are. They must have got their original tan and then topped it up each holiday-plus the weekends in the garden.


They’ve all got different skin to me. Mum says I take after her side of the family, only way back. Great Grandma or someone further back in the family tree. My skin is fair, and my hair blonde. Mum’s is darkish, although she said she was blonde when she was a baby. Dad’s hair is a bit sort of blondey-ginger. Dad says it’s ‘girly hair’. He says men’s hair should be dark brown or black. Nan and granddad on dad’s side of the family are the same. Darkish hair and they tan easily.


I was listening to mum and dad and they were talking about how they used to put olive oil on their skin and then lay in the sun on the beach. They‘d put the oil on their front and lay all morning and then turn over and do the same in the afternoon.


Mum and dad were laughing at how red they were at the beginning of the week but nice and brown by the end of their holiday.


I decided I was fed up with my fair skin and wanted a tan. I was also into boyfriends and there was this boy, James, I fancied. I was sure he’d like me more if I had a suntan. Mum also said the sun lightened her hair. So, I pictured myself with a super tanned catwalk body and light blonde hair snogging James.


Mum and dad said they were going out for the day and asked me if I wanted to go with them. Sight-seeing around a castle and ending up at a pub didn’t appeal to me. I told mum I had my course work to catch up on and they left me behind. It was during the heatwave, early July.


I took the opportunity to try out mum’s tanning technique.


There was a bottle of olive oil in the kitchen cupboard. I grabbed a towel, the oil and went out into the garden.


After spreading the towel on the concrete patio-yes it was a bit hard, but I thought the heat from the concrete might even tan my back. Where I got that idea from, I don’t know!


I sat down and lathered myself with the olive oil. All over my front. My face. Some of it went in my hair. My body. Trying not to mess up my bikini. My legs. Everywhere. Then I lay down. I was planning on allowing about thirty minutes and then turning over. What happened was, I fell asleep for four hours! Yes, four hours in the blazing hot sun during a heatwave with oil on my body!


It was the neighbour’s dog barking that woke me up. I looked at my legs and they still appeared white to me. I felt hot though. When I stood up, I came over all dizzy. I went inside, got one of dad’s pint glasses, filled it with water and drank it. I thought I might be dehydrated. That made me feel much better.


Then, what on earth to do with all this oil, I thought. So, I ran myself a bath. Mum had been given some special bubbles from nan the week before for her birthday. I thought I could have a soak and enjoy the beautiful perfume and the oil would come off. It didn’t-at least not much. It left a grimy mess around the side of the bath. I wondered how on earth I was going to clean it off. I didn’t want mum having a go at me.


After about ten minutes soaking, I began to feel a bit wheezy. I thought again that I might be dehydrated but wanted to relax for a little longer. The water was becoming cooler. I needed to top it up. When I reached for the hot tap, I noticed my hands were bright red and looked a bit puffy. I then stuck a leg up and that too appeared very red and swollen and I was certain there were blisters bubbling up on it.


I was horrified and quickly stood up in the bath to examine the rest of me. It was then I nearly fainted. I felt extremely wobbly. My skin was burning. I could hardly breathe. I began to panic. I quickly pulled the plug out of the bath and put a towel around myself. The towel began to sting me as it touched my skin. Blisters appeared everywhere. I was distraught. What could I do? I daren’t phone mum and dad as they would give me a right old bollocking.


I thought of calling my friend Angela but by this time I was feeling very faint so instead I dialled 999.


The paramedics were marvellous. They put an oxygen mask on me straight away. At the hospital the doctor asked me what sun block I’d been using, and I said olive oil. I could see by his face it was the wrong answer.

The doctor then asked how long I’d been in the sun and I said at least four hours.

He then told me I’d been like a big, fat sausage frying in olive oil for four hours and it’s a wonder I wasn’t all black and shrivelled.

I didn’t much care for him insinuating I looked like a big fat sausage.


I was given an injection for the pain. Another one for my allergic reaction to mum’s bubble bath. Another injection in case of infection and so it went on.


They put gallons of white cream all over me which was very soothing and told me to keep still. That was the hardest part. Keeping still, especially trying to sleep on my back all night long. I like to sleep on my tummy. That was out of the question for many weeks.


Someone must have told mum and dad that I was in hospital and they visited me. Mum kept crying. Dad kissed me on top of my head. They both wanted to give me a hug, but I think the white cream put them off a bit. I felt sore and fragile for at least two weeks after that.


I will say mum and dad were good to me. They didn’t reprimand me they kept saying they were glad I was alright. They said it was clever of me to think of dialling 999.


Not long after I got out of hospital, I met James when I was walking past the local park. He was the first to ask me what on earth I’d done to my skin. We’ve been out together four times so far and he kissed me.


August 03, 2020 17:04

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4 comments

Jane Andrews
12:41 Aug 13, 2020

I really enjoyed this. I thought it brilliantly captured the mind of a teenage girl - the optimism of thinking lying in the sun covered in oil would make her tanned and blonde, for example - and it brought back memories of people I've known in real life who've literally fried themselves in the sun! One tiny grammar point - when you use relatives' titles as names, always capitalise eg "I’d been listening to Mum and Dad talking about their holidays with Nan and Granddad." It's fine to leave them as lower case if you're using them as common no...

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Barbara Burgess
14:20 Aug 13, 2020

Thank you so much for your comments. Yes, I did wonder about the Mum and Dad and Granddad stuff. So thanks for that. Glad you enjoyed the story.

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Wow, great job! This was an amazing piece with an excellent take on the prompt. I especially love the first line: “I can’t tell you how many times someone has asked me about the scars on my skin“. It was an interesting first bit and really hooked me into the story. Overall, nice work, and I’m looking forward to more of your stories! ~A (P. S. If you have time, would you mind checking out my new story, ‘Just Give Him A Second Chance’? If so, thanks a million! 😁)

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Barbara Burgess
14:28 Aug 13, 2020

thank you very much for your comments. I really do appreciate them. I will take a look at your story too. Thanks again.

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