“I have The Bagel Factory,” a voice suddenly piped up. Quietly, Polly Duke had come in and stood behind the players. She held a single book in her hand.
“Mint wants two books for The Lotus Lily,” Chili remarked spitefully.
Polly let her hand sink down. She shook her head. “I only have this one.”
“I’ll swap with you,” Mint said quickly. “I’ve wanted to read The Bagel Factory for ages. I heard it’s very funny.”
“Yes, it is,” Polly answered in surprise. She handed Mint the book. Chili and Martina had fallen silent.
“This one is in very good condition,” Mint remarked while turning the book, even weighing it. “I also give you The Queen of Kopenhagen for it.”
Chili’s jaw dropped open, but she didn’t say a word. That was typical of Mint. Humiliating Chili on purpose and using her Tennis Nurse collection to show off. The deal was sealed with a handshake and Polly now had two books of her own. But the conversation at the table had died down. Mint had turned back to arranging her novels by publication date while Chili was staring at Polly.
The Canadian turned around, wanting to leave again when Candice called her name from the other table.
“Come sit with us for a minute,” the communications manager said. She patted the chair next to her and Polly obeyed.
“What have you got?” Natsumi asked curiously, and Polly displayed her new treasures.
“Good ones,” Agnes smiled, popping another strip of bacon into her mouth.
They chatted for several more minutes before Polly excused herself. She felt they were trying to cheer her up, as they knew about her mother’s situation. But Polly didn’t want cheering up.
***
“Hey, how are you?” The unexpected question startled Sasha. She spun around, ready with a cool reply to get rid of the intruder. It was Martina Rodriguez. Sasha exhaled in relief. Martina and her girlfriend, Antonia, were among the few people who knew about the incident when she had broken her nose in the Istanbul nightclub. They also knew about the pictures, as they had been given one, too. They didn’t know about the second fracture, which had been caused by Lulu’s punch in the hospital.
“I’m great,” Sasha lied. “Had a super off-season.”
“Good,” Martina said hesitantly. “How is your nose?”
“Fantastic. A welcome side effect is that I can breathe even better now.” Sasha gave the Argentine a big smile, realizing that Martina seemed not convinced.
“How about you? Did you have a nice vacation with Antonia?” she managed to ask in a friendly manner.
“Christmas with the family. Her family,” Martina chuckled. “Crazy Italians. Lots of food.” She grinned at the thought. Sasha smiled again. She, too, had spent the holidays with her family at home, she informed Martina. She didn’t mention it had been far from relaxed due to them all demanding to know what had happened to her nose. She had given them a flimsy excuse, as she couldn’t have possibly told them about the flying punch bowl, or Lulu Galloway, or the picture that had caused all the trouble in Istanbul.
Sasha sighed while packing her training shoes into her bag. “Any news from Tom?”
“No,” Martina shook her head. “But Ted told me on the flight that they were working on a list of suspects.”
“Well, that’s a start. They better be quick at finding this person. The pictures are pretty provocative, at least in your case.”
“Yes, they are. But nothing had happened since Luxembourg,” Martina said pensively, but Sasha could tell she was worried. “Nobody has contacted us or sent us more prints. It’s really strange.”
“Yes, I wonder what this is about. Let’s see what the boys come up with. If Ted and Tom make no progress we should take matters in our own hands. I just don’t like the thought that we depend on two guys who have completely botched up and who are the main reason why we are in this misery.”
Martina nodded. Then she looked up.
“Have you contacted the Galloways about the picture?” she asked.
Sasha snorted. “Why should I?”
“One of them is in the picture with you,” Martina replied, a little surprised by the vehement reaction. “Wouldn’t it be fair to warn them? And perhaps they were given a picture, too. If a picture was given to them in a city other than New York or Luxembourg, it might have clues pointing to a suspect.”
Martina was right, Sasha had to admit. It could definitely narrow down the list of suspects.
“Yes,” she said, smiling at the Argentine. “Good idea. I’ll let them know.”
It was a frightening thought and Sasha had no intention of getting close to the twins. But Martina’s argument couldn’t be easily dismissed. After saying goodbye to Martina she shouldered her bag and left the locker room. Wandering down the hallway she then realized that she hadn’t thought about her big nose for more than fifteen minutes. Instead she now thought about the Galloways, which was just as bad.
***
This was definitely a great place for a wedding, Ted thought, turning his head towards the sea and feeling the breeze on his face.
Mighty waves were rolling in on the beach and the majestic rocks that lined the shore along the Great Ocean Road looked like they would remember a wedding vow until the end of time. They weren’t called Apostles for no reason. You had to mean it.
“Now without the shirt!” The command and the subsequent whistles brought Ted back to reality. He nodded at the photographer and the grinning lighting crew and pulled the shirt over his head. No time to dream about weddings that would never happen. At least not for him.
They had been working all morning on a photo shoot for his sponsor and, after a couple more shots, the photographer called for a quick break.
When Ted sat down on a set chair to enjoy the scenery a car came down the track and stopped next to the makeup van. Ted immediately tensed up, when he saw who had arrived.
“Hey, guys,” Carina Gnocchi waved to the whole team, then walked over to Ted and sat down next to him. Ted had forgotten that their sponsor had scheduled them together for the photo shoot.
“Hi, Carina,” Ted said without looking up. He didn’t want to give her any hope for a deep conversation.
“How are you?” she asked. “Have you processed the loss?”
Oh dear, Ted thought. Carina was quick at cutting right to the chase. Ted held on to his soda for a little while, counted five of the Twelve Apostles, then turned to the German.
“Sure did,” he said with a smile. “How about you? Is your No. 1 ranking in danger?” Carina had lost in the fourth round, just as Ted had.
She sighed very loudly. “It might be. I only have two hundred points more than Mrachova, and I have about a thousand points to defend in the next six weeks. Not a good start for me, I have to admit.”
“Renard is closing in on you, ready to take the spot as the best German player,” Ted teased her, glad that the conversation was no longer focusing on his loss.
“Oh please,” Carina snorted. “She is just having a nice little run here.”
“Quarterfinal, no less,” Ted said. Apparently Carina didn’t like Elise. Ted raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to either, as Carina was just gathering speed.
“I can’t see her reproducing this for very long. She is surrounding herself with the wrong people.”
Looking down onto the ocean Carina nodded to herself. Then she leaned over to Ted. “Homosexuals,” she said, lowering her voice. The word alone dealt Ted a little blow, but it was Carina’s audible aversion that made him clench his teeth. Like he would do on the court when he got angry or faced a break point he breathed in and exhaled very slowly to get his heart rate down.
“Well, that’s no surprise,” he eventually said with a casual shrug and turned around to a frowning Carina. “I heard that 82.7 percent of the women players are lesbians. You cannot not hang out with them.”
“82.7 percent!” Carina yelled, shocked and confused by the prec
ise figure. “No, that can’t be right, Ted. Most players are straight. I know them.”
She began counting silently and Ted saw her fingers twitch. One, two, three. Another one. Finally, Carina spread out her pinky, then she stopped and looked up. Ted concluded she must have come to the end of her list of friends.
“No,” she said again, albeit less vehemently. “That can’t be right.”
“Well, perhaps I mixed up the digits,” Ted said lightly. “Perhaps it was 87.2 percent.”
Carina gave him a suspicious look and Ted feared she had seen through his mockery. But then the German reached out her hand and stroked his arm.
“I can assure you of one thing,” Carina murmured. “I like men, and I know someone who’s single again and might be in need of a cheering up.” She winked at him.
Oh dear, Ted thought. He had successfully kept Carina at arm’s length during the last season and Felicia had been a great excuse. But he had since ended the little agreement he had with Felicia. Fortunately for the Australian singer, she had found a substitute with the speed of light.
“I’m trying celibacy,” he said, giving his words a weighty and solemn emphasis.
“Oh.” Carina raised an eyebrow and withdrew her hand. “I completely approve,” she then said. Ted rejoiced at hearing the disappointment in her voice. “I’m all for celibacy until marriage.”
Marriage. Ted looked down again at the rocks in the sea.
“I hear Sasha wants to get married,” Carina said. “She is engaged to Jaro Bradka. She is so in love she even skipped Brisbane.”
“And the sponsor party in Melbourne,” Ted threw in, glad that they had found a new topic.
Carina snorted. “Didn’t keep her from designing a huge brim visor for her own fashion line. Did you see it?”
Ted had.
“It looks absolutely ridiculous,” Carina continued. “Inspired by elderly ladies in Florida, no doubt. Next thing she will come up with is a walker with colors matching her skirt.”
For once Ted had to concede a point to Carina. The visor was laughable.
“Miss Gnocchi!” One of the make-up artists came running towards them.
“We need you in the makeup van,” the flustered young man said, shooing Carina towards the transporter which served as the ad hoc makeup room, and saving Ted from the obnoxious German. Thank god for homos everywhere, he thought while looking on at the odd couple disappearing into the camper.
***
On the screen Luella Galloway could be seen getting ready to serve. She tossed the ball high into the air, brought the racquet back behind her head, swung it – and hit an ace. Under the applause of the spectators she went to the other side of the baseline. Another great serve, followed by a hard-hit forehand crosscourt, winning her the game. It was now 5-2 for Luella in the third set.
Sitting on a bench in the locker room Gabriella leaned back and watched her sister sit down on her chair. This match would be over quickly, she knew it. Luella’s opponent was ranked in the Top 100 and had come through the qualifying draw. Even though she had played a fine match on the whole, she had more or less given up half an hour ago.
A couple of minutes later Lulu stood in the middle of the court, giving the cheering crowd a regal wave with her hand. She hadn’t played a great match. Her serve was broken twice in the first set and she had to fight back from one set down. But she had won the second set and eventually the match, and at the end of the day this was all that mattered.
Gabriella grunted in disgust. As a Top 10 player Lulu was given a top seeding. She had the advantage of being drawn only against low-seeded players in the first round, whereas Gabriella could encounter a dangerous player early, in the third or fourth round. In fact, she had to play against one today.
Yelena Kovalenko had been sidelined for a couple of weeks in the fall, losing many points and slipping down the rankings. But now that she was back at her old strength, her game was far better than her current ranking suggested. Gabriella knew it would be a tough test, but she had to stand her ground.
On TV, Luella was on her way to leaving the court. Kids and even grown-up fans had gathered at the exit and held out big, yellow tennis balls for Luella to sign. She wisely took the time to leave her autograph on every single one of them. Before entering the exit tunnel, she turned around again and waved for a last time to the cheering fans. Gabriella jumped up and climbed onto the bench beneath the TV. Stretching to reach the button she put an end to the Luella Show.
Who cared that Lulu won a match? Who cared that she could do a freaking back somersault on a trampoline? Luella was nothing but a show-off. She hadn’t won anything big yet. She only had her name on the Wimbledon trophy. What’s in a name? She hadn’t earned it. That was all the difference. It was Gabriella who knew how to win big and tight matches. That had always been her strength.
But nowadays every match was big, and unfortunately, also tight. She had not only lost her opening match in Auckland, but also her second round match in Sydney. Coming into the Australian Open she had played three matches and had only won one of them. The worst start to the year since she had begun playing professionally on the tour. But could she really compare this year with the previous years? She and Lulu had had a huge advantage, switching matches depending on their opponents’ playing styles. Now she played every match herself.
Gabriella let her head hang down. She knew better than to accept such a flimsy excuse. Her bad start had nothing to do with the new circumstances. She had been playing for herself for half a year now and she hadn’t had any problems in the latter half of last year.
“Stop comparing yourself with Luella,” Fredrik had told her the other day. “Don’t follow her game, don’t look at her ranking.”
He was a smart guy who clearly understood Gabriella’s motivation behind having her own team, and her desire to rise in the rankings as fast as possible. She appreciated him allowing her to find her own way, her own game.
But he couldn’t understand why she couldn’t stop comparing herself with Luella when she had copied her twin for years and years. And how could she not follow Lulu’s career when, for both of them, the goal had been a Top 10 ranking? How could she not look at Luella’s ranking, knowing that this, in fact, should have been Gabriella’s Top 10 ranking? It was impossible.
***
The gigantic mouth swallowed people one by one and Polly was a bit surprised that, when the small group walked into the gorge, the sun was still shining on the other side of the jaw.
For today Paola had ordered Gemma, Robyn, Chili and Polly to go to Melbourne’s Luna Park, an amusement center located near St. Kilda Beach and which you entered through a big, steepled gate made to look like the open mouth of a clown’s face. Above the mouth entrance, two eyes greeted the visitors. But they didn’t look friendly or smiley. They were quite scary, Polly had to admit. She would have preferred to have stayed alone in her hotel room and read her new Tennis Nurse novels, but when Paola had approached her she hadn’t been quick enough to give a good excuse, and she didn’t feel like letting the journalist in on her mother’s condition either. Polly just hoped they didn’t have to engage in anything that involved lots of chatter or silly activities.
“We will film you riding the roller coasters,” Paola had explained on the way to St. Kilda. So, Polly only had to smile and wave a bit. She looked at the darkening sky and hoped it wouldn’t take too long, so that she would soon be back at the hotel to reward herself with a whole evening engrossed in Tennis Nurse and The Lotus Lily.
They strolled along with the excited families and followed Paola who led the way to the entrance of the biggest roller coaster.
“Alright, girls,” Poala said, turning around to the group. “Here’s the plan. First you go with Lars, who will be sitting in front of you and filming you. Then you again and this time Lars will film from the ground.”
Lars, Gemma and Robyn took the lead and as soon as the train had stopped and the disheveled looking kids h
ad tumbled out of the cars, they jumped into the front row.
“Come on, hurry,” Chili said, tugging on Polly’s sleeve. They sat in the car behind Gemma and Robyn and the train started moving. Polly tried to relax. At least she didn’t have to feign having fun, as long as Lars was still fumbling with the camera.
“Have you started reading The Lotus Lily yet?” Chili asked while they were slowly chugging up the railway tracks. Polly remembered Chili’s look earlier that day when Mint had given her the novel.
“Yes, I started right away. I will be done in no time,” she said with a smile. “Do you want to read it afterwards? I could lend it to you.”
“Would you?” Chili seemed surprised by the generous offer.
“Sure,” Polly nodded. “I’m always looking for people to swap books with.”
Chili smiled but then opened her eyes wide in panic. The train had reached the highest point of the tracks and was steadily inching towards the first slope.
When they rattled into the abyss, Polly and Chili screamed in delight and fear. She hadn’t planned on uttering any form of joy, but after the train had coasted down and decelerated, Polly felt better. All the worries that had crushed her chest in the last couple of days since the bad news about her mother had reached her now seemed to have left her with one loud scream.
Or perhaps it was the free-fall that gave her the feeling she was still levitating.
“The second time will be even more fun,” Chili giggled. “I won’t be scared then.”
Polly nodded as they began ascending again. She was looking forward to the second dip, too.
“Sorry for being nasty this morning,” Chili said suddenly. “It was way too early for me, and I hate it when Mint plays me off against someone else. She always does that.”
Love Game - Season 2012 Page 6
