“How can we prepare for our next match if you stay in a different hotel?” she had asked, smiling at Polly. “No, no. I won’t have it. You can pay me back if we win the tournament.”
As it turned out they only made the second round in Brisbane, and so Polly wasn’t able to pay for all her expenses, but Bernadette assured Polly that they were on their way to becoming a dangerous team in the doubles competition. They had lost a very tight match against one of the top seeded teams, which was a good sign that they could have more success in the future.
The elevator reached the top floor and the door opened to the reception area of a fancy top floor restaurant. In the midst of the modern cleanness the tracksuit Polly was wearing seemed very much out of place. She hadn’t dressed up appropriately. Polly made a few steps back to the elevator. She couldn’t possibly go into the restaurant dressed like this. Bernadette could have told her that this was a very posh place, Polly thought.
The young woman at the reception desk eyed her suspiciously and Polly felt her head grow hot. She turned back to the elevator to rush back to her room and change clothes but the doors had already closed.
“Just go inside,” she whispered to herself. “There are probably a lot of other players in sportswear inside.”
She squared her shoulders and made a step towards the desk.
“I’m here with Bernadette LeBlanc. She reserved a table, I think,” Polly said to the woman.
The receptionist scanned Polly’s tracksuit and her short hair again and Polly bravely smiled back at her to conceal the fact that she knew exactly what the woman was thinking.
Checking a list the woman finally nodded.
“It’s the third table to the left.” She made no move to accompany Polly to the table. Even better, the young Canadian thought. Perhaps she could sneak past the other guests unnoticed. Polly peeked into the dining room and frowned. She couldn’t see any other players in sports clothes. Near the window was Bernadette in elegant clothes, sitting upright and with a glass of water in front of her.
“Oh, dear.”
Just when Polly was about to make a step into the room her cell phone rang. She stopped and took a look at the display. It was her brother Jonathan calling from Canada which was never a good sign. If he called for a chat he usually used video calls, not calls to her cell phone. This had to be urgent. Polly turned around and quickly walked over to a pair of lounge chairs standing next to the staircase.
“Hey,” she answered the phone. “What’s up?”
“Hey, sis’.” Her brother’s voice sounded stressed. Polly felt dizzy. The air suddenly seemed very thin.
“What’s up?” Polly asked again.
“Mom is in the hospital,” her brother revealed. He didn’t need to say anything else. Their mother’s heart disease had accompanied them now for three years. Polly sank down onto one of the cushioned chairs.
“Okay.” Polly didn’t move. “Thanks for letting me know.”
“I’ll keep you updated,” Jonathan said. There was nothing Polly could do but wait.
***
Her hair was disheveled and her arms spread to both sides. The straps of the harness around her hips didn’t bother her anymore and the rhythmic up-and-down movement made her body feel lighter and lighter. Elise was flying.
She grabbed Gabriella’s hand tighter and cried out in joy.
“I haven’t jumped on a trampoline in years,” she yelled to her friend with whom she was assigned to play. They were on one side of the large trampoline while Gabriella’s sister Lulu and Robyn Lawrence, a young and upcoming British player were on the other side. All were strapped with long bungee cords for safety.
Gabriella didn’t react and with a side glance Elise determined that her friend was concentrating hard on jumping to the right rhythm. She still looked grumpy after having lost her match against Luella. Admittedly, Gabriella had looked very clumsy the moment she set foot on the trampoline. More than once she missed the ball as she was jumping either too high or too low. She couldn’t get the hang of it while Lulu on the other side of the net seemed a natural at the trampoline task. She entertained the whole Supersport crew with trick shots between her legs and changing the racquet from one hand to the other to get even the most difficult balls back over the net. In the end Lulu topped it off with a somersault. Everything worked for her and Robyn and Elise stood on the ground in awe of Luella’s acrobatic stunts.
“It’s not important,” Elise had tried to cheer her up when Gabriella dismounted the trampoline for a short break after the singles match, even though she felt that it was not so much losing the fun match that bothered Gabriella, but her inability to keep up with Luella’s show skills. The doubles match was just as lopsided. Lulu and Robyn were giggling and making points at will while every ball Gabriella was able to reach she hit outside the trampoline railings. Elise at least tried to have fun.
“Cheer up!” she ordered Gabriella, but in the end they lost the doubles match.
“That’s a wrap, ladies,” Paola said, clapping her hands and nodding at the film crew to pack up. “You all looked great.”
Gabriella snorted while she packed her racquet bag. “Sure.”
“What’s up with you?” Elise asked her when they were walking back to the tournament building. “You didn’t have any fun.”
“Is it not allowed to deliberately not have fun?” Gabriella retorted. “I’m trying to win matches. I’m a competitive person.”
“I guess it wasn’t your day,” Elise said sheepishly.
“It never is these days,” Gabriella said cryptically, running to catch a tournament cab and leaving Elise dumbfounded. It was the first time they had argued since they had become friends during the last season.
***
Mint was hurrying up the stairs. She had less than one hour before she needed to be back in the spa area of the hotel where her stepmother was enjoying a back rub right now, believing that Mint was in the room next door. Once she opened the heavy metal door and the cool breeze tousled her hair all the stress fell off her. She squared her shoulders, breathed in deeply and walked to the edge of the roof. Surrounded by the fiery red evening sky and the skyscrapers around Sydney’s Circular Quay Mint sat down and placed her laptop on the balustrade. Last night she had come here, just to get away from her stepmother a bit and had discovered that there was great wi-fi reception on the roof along with a fantastic view and much-needed privacy. After answering her e-mails, she checked if any of her friends were available for a video call. She would have loved to show them the Harbour Bridge and the silhouette of the Opera House in the evening sun. But none of them were online for a chat, not even Chili who was in Tasmania at the moment playing a tournament in Hobart. Mint had initially considered signing up for the tournament too, as it was smaller and she would have been seeded in the main draw, but her stepmother had decided that it was better to play Sydney.
Mint sighed. She had realized right away that Evelina Rickenbacher had made the decision solely based on the shopping and entertainment values of the city, not whether it was best for her stepdaughter’s chances to rack up some ranking points and perhaps even a title. Mint had no chance of reaching one of the later rounds here in Sydney, with all the top players warming up for the Australian Open. First she had to get through the qualifying process and she had to win one more match tomorrow morning before she would be in the main draw. Then she needed luck to get further in the tournament. As a qualifier it was possible to get drawn against a high seed, so the tournament could be over for you before it really started.
Besides getting away from her obnoxious stepmother, Mint had another reason for wanting some privacy. She was working on something she needed to keep away from Evelina at all costs. Mint clicked on a folder on her computer and a window appeared asking for a password. After a few seconds a table of thumbnails opened on the screen. In the last few days, whenever Evelina wasn’t around, Mint had begun to go through the pictures again. She had lost interes
t in them after Luxembourg, and the off-season had provided her with a well-needed break from the tennis bubble, which she had savored to the fullest during a debaucherous two-week vacation in the Bahamas before going to Florida for training. But because the tour had started again her watch dog was back, and there was nothing to do but play mind games over what to do next with these pictures. There were actually really good ones among them and Mint had decided to play a little trick on her compatriots, Gabriella and Lulu. She had long pondered whether to give them prints of the picture that showed one of the twins with Sasha. The photo was more about Sasha than about the twin though. Sasha was staring at the Galloway, making it easy to read her feelings from the expression on her face. The twin in the picture wasn’t doing anything herself. She was only the object of Sasha’s admiration. Other than the other pictures showing Amanda and Elise and Martina and Antonia which Mint had found on the memory stick, there was no interaction here.
But at least it would give the twins something to rack their brains about. Where did the picture come from? Why was Sasha staring at the twin? Mint chuckled. They could handle a little brain-racking. It would be a nice change from shooting glamorous videos for Supersport. Mint picked a picture. She wanted to make prints of it and hand them to the Galloways in Melbourne.
Suddenly a loud bang startled her. The door to the staircase was pushed open and somebody walked through. Mint squinted her eyes against the setting sun. The person had turned away from the door, so Mint could only see the back and the short hair. It was Polly Duke, the Canadian player. What was she doing here, Mint wondered. She was absolutely certain that Polly couldn’t afford this hotel. She would usually stay with others in a cheap guesthouse.
Walking towards the edge without slowing down, she looked like a robot out of control. For a second a horrible image flashed through Mint’s mind of Polly touching the balustrade with her feet and tumbling over it without even turning her head. Mint frowned, following Polly with a her eyes. The Canadian was approaching the edge and to Mint’s relief stopped before the knee high wall. Peering over the edge into the abyss of the street she seemed to wait. Then suddenly she stepped onto the balustrade. What the hell was Polly doing? Mint jumped up, but hesitated to run over to the Canadian. Should she shout out? But what if it frightened Polly and she fell over the edge because of Mint’s yelling. From the other end of the roof she saw that Polly was at last sitting down on the little wall, hanging her feet over it. No, Mint decided, she shouldn’t shout out. Perhaps it was best not to let Polly know she was there. Careful not to make a sound she made her way across the roof and sneaked over to an air condition unit near Polly. She would wait behind it and observe Polly. Should she slip any further towards the edge she would need to grab her and pull her back. But until then, it was perhaps for the best to keep quiet.
Polly was wearing a blue track suit that looked flattering on her. She had long legs, broad shoulders and one of those hipster haircuts that was short on one side and in the back while the front was a little longer. Mint liked the feeling of running her fingers across stubble on the neck. However, she never really had the opportunity to do so, nor would she admit to this fancy. Whenever she went out with friends, she picked up feminine girls. She never hit on the butchy ones. Now that she thought about it, it was simply more prestigious to score the long-haired beauties. Also, Mint always succeeded in picking them up. It was easy and it guaranteed her the admiration of her friends, establishing her reputation as a very successful womanizer. None of her friends at home knew that she almost lived like a nun while on tour, even more so now that her stepmother had decided to accompany her all year round and Chili was hanging out more and more with the other Spanish girls.
When the orange sun began slipping into the sea Polly stood up slowly and walked back to the door. After the Canadian disappeared downstairs, Mint went back to her laptop. It had become cold outside and she needed to rush back to the spa. She closed all the folders with a shrug, shut the computer and hurried down the stairs, arriving at the spa reception just as Evelina Rickenbacher came out of the massage room.
STORMY WEATHER
Melbourne, Australia
“Where is she?” Monica tapped her foot and looked at the big orange clock that was hanging a little lopsidedly above the kitchen door. Candice and Agnes sighed, but were still munching on the very delicious curry Monica had cooked. They were waiting for their Japanese friend, Natsumi Takashima.
Natsumi had a habit of arriving at an appointment at the last minute, but she usually wasn’t late – at least not by one and a half hours.
“You want to call her again?” Candice asked.
Monica shook her head. “We should finish up and move on.”
They had another appointment later on – in a beach bar which was run by one of Amanda’s old school friends. Elise and Gabriella had talked them into joining them after dinner.
Just when they stood up to leave, the doorbell rang. Monica ripped open the front door to a grinning Natsumi who stepped into the kitchen, wearing a short elegant dress and high heels.
“Where the hell have you been?” Agnes exclaimed.
“Sorry,” Natsumi shrugged. “My plane was late.”
“Your plane?” Candice raised her eyebrows. “But you left Auckland five days ago.” Everyone looked at Natsumi, baffled by the revelation.
“Are you saying you haven’t been in Sydney all this time?” Agnes asked. “But your first match is tomorrow. Haven’t you practiced?”
Natsumi shrugged. “No, after that first round loss, I thought I’d throw in a mini vacation. Just to unwind, you see?”
Monica, Candice and Agnes looked at each other. No, they didn’t see the reason for that. If you lost a match the only reasonable thing to do was get to back on the practice court and work on your shots. Shaking their heads over Natsumi’s new approach to improving her performance they decided to head out to the bar straight away.
“So, where did you spend your mini vacation?” Monica asked suspiciously, as they headed outside into the warm evening air. Perhaps Natsumi had a new girlfriend? Or an affair? How outrageous that Monica had no idea.
“A secret place,” Natsumi answered.
“Alone?” Monica asked. They followed the Japanese player down the street towards Coogee Beach. Natsumi seemed to hesitate which was surprising. Usually, Natsumi wasn’t shy about entertaining her friends with stories about her raunchy off-season affairs.
“No,” Natsumi finally said, more to herself than to her three friends. She didn’t seem to be willing to say much more. Monica turned to Candice and Agnes who collectively shrugged. It was rare to see Natsumi as peeved as this.
After Natsumi’s loss, she had left Auckland on the same evening. She had seemed to be brooding over the first round defeat when Monica saw her in the hallway, but that was normal after suffering an upset very early in a tournament. They hadn’t talked much in that moment, and even before that day Monica hadn’t taken the time for an in-depth conversation.
“I asked Gabriella to play doubles with me,” Monica announced to begin a new topic.
“To actually play tennis?” Candice winked at her. Monica jabbed her in the ribs.
“Yes, play. At the Olympics. For the United States of America,” Monica laughed.
“What about Lulu?” Agnes had turned around to Monica and Candice. “I can’t believe they won’t play.”
Monica shrugged. “It didn’t look like Gabriella wanted to go back to playing with her sister. So, basically I’m just helping out.”
“I heard Gabriella is playing for our team,” Natsumi remarked pensively. “Elise was saying something about her in Auckland, but didn’t want to elaborate.”
Then the Japanese player began to silently move her lips while lifting one finger after another.
“What are you counting?” Agnes asked.
Natsumi shook her head. She had stopped at eight fingers pointed out.
“Never mind,” she said.
***
“Why are we having breakfast at this unearthly hour?” Agnes asked biting into a strip of bacon.
“Some of the younger players complained that the dinner would have gone too late,” Candice explained. “They go to bed early.”
Agnes shook her head in amazement. “Only five years ago the Tennis Nurse trading dinner was actually quite the party. Now we are having breakfast at 6:30 in the morning.”
“The kids like it,” Natsumi murmured. She was only having a black coffee, as she couldn’t eat that early in the morning, she had explained to Agnes and Candice. With squinted eyes she watched a group of younger players trading books.
“I’ll give you Court 69 for Tennis Nurse and The Bad Bounce,” Chili García López negotiated with Martina Rodriguez. Stacks of novels were piling up in front of them.
“¡No jodas!” Martina exclaimed. “My grandmother read Court 69 to me when I still fit into a racquet bag. A kid’s racquet bag.”
“I also have The Mystery of The Popular Pusher, but I’m still reading it. I can give it to you in a week,” Chili begged, but Martina waved her hand dismissively.
“I just finished The Case of The Lotus Lily,” Mint mentioned to Martina from across the table. “You can have it now for the The Bad Bounce.”
Martina nodded, considering the deal. Chili looked at Mint angrily. Of course, Mint would snatch the novel away from her.
“But I want a second book for The Lotus Lily. It’s brand new,” Mint added. “How about Tennis Nurse and The Bagel Factory?”
Martina laughed. “Oh, that was a good one. But I don’t have it. Morgana might though. How about Tennis Nurse and The Australian Formation?”
Mint hesitated. Where was Morgana? Was it too early for the Frenchwoman? It was highly unusual for her to miss the Tennis Nurse swap meet. It was also very inconvenient, as Morgana had all the novels, most of them in duplicate, and she was the best source for new or rare books.
Love Game - Season 2012 Page 5
