by M. B. Gerard
Confirmed:
Amanda: gay & everybody knows but no one says a word
Antonia: in a rel w/dubs partner…
Martina: w/Antonia
Agnes: former Top 10 singles player, in rel w/Candice
Monica: the only out player (CO: 2005), former No 1 singles, now only dubs w/Agnes
Rumors:
Sasha: fiancé visits gay bars (Rome), she had rumors herself when younger, is stalking (?) the Galloways
Mint: not much, just hints, maybe w/ Cecilia (?)
Cecilia: Spanish player, hangs more with the Spanish Fed Cup team mates since her election than with Mint
After finishing the list he circled Sasha’s name and drew an arrow. At the end he wrote in capital letter:
CONFIRMATION NEEDED!
He wasn’t interested in the lower ranked players. He was looking for confirmation about the big fish. At least Top 30. Because only big fish made a big splash. And a big splash was needed in the conservative world of tennis.
***
“Who?”
“Tennis Nurse! The novels!” Shouting, so the old man could hear her, Morgana highlighted her speech by standing on her tiptoes as if it would make her words clearer to the obviously half-deaf man. Mr. Murray, as the door plate indicated.
The man shook his head.
“What is that? I have never heard of such a thing. Now if you will excuse me, there is a documentary about pets about to start on TV. Have a nice day.”
He closed the door and skeptically, Sasha and Morgana observed the red door in silence, but it didn’t open again. Sasha snorted. Of course, Morgana’s ‘Tennis Nurse mission’ had lamentably failed and not only had it cost the Czech player an afternoon but she was soaking wet now, her umbrella having broken into pieces under the gushing rain as soon as she had stepped out of the bus. And now this old man had no idea about any novels. This was no publishing house. Morgana clearly had gotten it wrong.
“At what time does the next bus leave for Eastbourne?” Sasha’s voice was gloomy and for the first time, the French player noticed it. It seemed like her enthusiasm had been smashed at the same time as the old man had closed the door with a loud bang. She had messed up big time.
“8 P.M.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Why not say it in British, if they were here. Sasha clenched her fists. It was not even five which meant that they were stuck in Brighton for three more hours.
“Maybe I can call a cab. I will pay for it!” Morgana knew that she had to make up for the failed expedition because she was the one to blame but for some reason, Sasha shook her head impatiently.
“No. Let’s find a bar somewhere. It’s my first time in Brighton. At least let’s have a drink. But don’t you even dare to talk to me about Tennis Nurse again!”
The first bar that showed up on their path looked like a traditional English pub which would serve their need to get out of the rain as well as their thirst for a lager. Both players stepped into the half-empty place called Mandy’s.
“What’s your poison, gorgeous?” A tall, red-headed girl with a nose piercing showed up behind the counter and winked at them. Sasha sighed. Great. Of all places, they had landed in a lesbian bar.
“A G & T for me. We’ll take that table there, in the corner. Thanks.”
They settled down in the dark corner and as soon as the drinks arrived – carrot juice for Morgana – Sasha felt better. If the first cocktail soothed her frustration, the second glass opened the door to the introspection of her closeted life. That was clearly a terrain Sasha didn’t want to enter right now. A third cocktail was needed to quickly advance to wonderland. Sasha gave the waitress a nod and tapped the empty glass, missing Morgana’s raised eye-brow.
After sipping half of the Gin & Tonic she felt light, in peace and actually glad to be here with Morgana. What a great bar with great music and a cheerful crowd that had showed up a few minutes before. Drawing the last drops of her cocktail through her straw, Sasha swallowed and raised her hands before shouting from the top of her lungs, “Empty!”
Several heads turned in their direction.
“Maybe we should go now,” Morgana said uneasily. “I guess you need some rest. You shouldn’t have had this third cocktail.”
“Oh, shut up, party pooper and get me another one! I like it here. What a great place to be!”
“Don’t you want to know what I found out about the Galloways?” Morgana smiled slyly. “I tell you what we will do. We will leave the bar, get a cab and talk a little bit, alright?”
“No, Morgana. I’m going to tell you what I’m going to do. I’m going to go to the bar over there and order that drink myself.” The Czech player was slurring her words. She hadn’t even listened to Morgana. Sasha managed to stand up with difficulty and swept away an invisible comment with her hand. “Bye bye, Birdie!”
Unsteadily, she made her way to the bar and leaned on the counter. Waiting for the bartender to mix the drink, she turned her head only to stare at a woman sitting there on a stool. She looked extraordinary. Sasha was struck by the woman’s clear-cut features and blue eyes. It felt like she had known this girl for ages. For a moment Sasha forgot about her good intentions to focus only on tennis and felt a rush of desire and excitement flowing through her veins. She bent towards the girl.
“Can I buy you a drink?” she whispered.
***
“So, let’s get started,” Paola said into the microphone. “Hello, Luella.”
“I’m Gabriella.”
“Oh. I’m sorry. That must happen to you all the time!”
Paola Scetti burst out laughing. What a typical start for her! Not only had she been late, she also seemed completely unprepared. She shrugged the embarrassment away and started anew. A good interview began with a nice, friendly atmosphere anyway. She had learned that little by little on tour.
“Gabriella, then. And hello, Luella,” she said to the other twin. “How are the most famous sisters on tour?”
A reluctant nod welcomed Paola’s question.
“Excellent results so far for the two of you. Is 2011 finally going to be your year?”
“I guess it is more the logical continuation of 2010, to speak for myself,” Luella answered. “I finished the past season with very promising results and with a career high ranking. So 2011 will be my year, yes.”
Paola smiled at the young woman in front of her and nodded quietly. Luella was full of herself. She had an enormous ego like so many athletes the journalist had met over the years. The question was if Lulu had the consistency to back it up with good results. In Paola’s opinion it was Gabriella who deserved a lot more praise. She had steadily worked on her game and had improved tremendously over the last month.
“Do you share your sister’s point of view, Gabriella?”
Gaga remained silent for a moment, passed her tongue over her lips then frowned. She was focused, looking for the right words. She didn’t rush into things as her sister did. She was the calmer one.
“I try to work for every match, try to get better with every practice and every conversation we have with our coach. Winning my first premier title this year was an incredible reward, of course, but now I feel like working even more, so I can achieve that again.”
“Speaking about coaches, you two surely have beaten the record with the the number of coaches you have worked with so far. How do you explain that? Is it hard to be a three-entity team?”
“We like records,” Lulu said with a broad smile. “And we like change. It brings fresh air and every time, we get to learn new ways to improve ourselves. The more you pick here and there, the better obviously.”
For some reason, Paola found Lulu’s smile to be tense. She wondered why. This question must have been asked many times before and the Galloways’ coaching changes were not exactly news as they happened so frequently.
“It isn’t necessarily easy to find the right one,” Gaga finally said. “Some players do immediately, others don’t.
I’m afraid we belong to the second category. Especially, because there is two of us. The road is thus a bit chaotic but I guess that what we have to keep in mind is our results. We will be in a good position.”
It was a diplomatic answer, Paola noticed. She wondered, why the twins never thought about having two coaches. They played different styles of tennis, they should practice differently. Now that she faced both of them in an interview Paola found she had never met two people who were more different in character.
How anyone couldn’t tell them apart stumped her. Sure, they looked exactly the same but only physically. When it came to their mindset, they seemed to have nothing in common.
***
A blinding light woke her up and her head was pounding. Blinking and rolling on her back, Sasha moaned. What had happened the night before? All she could remember was that she headed to the counter of some bar to order a cocktail. The rest was dark, awfully dark in her throbbing head.
“Good morning.” A soft voice by her side made her jump and not giving a damn all of a sudden about the light, Sasha opened her eyes. Wide. Anastasia Stea, a well-known and very hot chair umpire was lying next to her. Her shoulders were bare and Sasha felt her face grow hot when she realized that the rest was probably just as naked under the blanket. The umpire burst out laughing seeing the Czech’s look of disbelief, then passed a hand through her hair. She looked relaxed and at ease.
“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone. I never do.”
Never do? How many times had Anastasia found herself in this situation? Sasha shook her head, trying to sweep away the thoughts.
“What time is it?”
“Almost 10:30.”
“In the morning?”
“Looked like you needed your beauty sleep.” Anastasia laughed kindly.
“What?” Sasha’s scream probably woke up the whole neighborhood. Looking around she grabbed the first thing which ironically turned out to be an Eastbourne Tournament bath towel, and covered her naked body. She jumped out of bed and frantically began to look around for her clothes.
“Oh dear, oh dear.”
“What is going on? Why don’t you relax!”
Barely casting a glance at Anastasia who was still in bed and whose calmness made Sasha even more fidgety, she sighed and swallowed hard. Sasha was on the verge of crying. She threw an angry glance at the good-looking umpire.
“I have a match in thirty minutes!”
“I’m sorry, Sasha. I didn’t know the OOP by heart,” Anastasia said with an apologetic smile.
“I haven’t even done my warm-up!”
“Oh yes, you have, sweetie,” Anastasia grinned.
A shudder ran down Sasha’s spine upon her hearing the umpire’s mischievous insinuation. It made her stop in her tracks, however only for a few seconds. She needed water! She needed a hundred gallons of water! She stumbled into the bathroom and popped her head under the tab. These Gin & Tonics were truly evil, she thought while gulping the ice-cold water. Why did she drink that much? And what about Morgana? Had the little coward left her alone when she had been obviously drunk and so vulnerable? Why had she even been there with Sasha?
The Czech couldn’t remember. She would have a word or two with her soon. Or not. There was no need to publicize this embarrassing chapter of her life even more.
“You know where to find me!” Anastasia’s voice followed her as she hurried out of the bedroom with her shoes in hand and ran down the stairs. She had just reached the last step when she violently bumped into someone. Not looking at the person, the Czech simply shook her head and mumbled some incomprehensible apologies. She had to deal with other things right now. Like a match. A tennis match. And a headache. A very ugly headache.
“Why, good morning, Sasha.”
Sasha froze and finally bothered to look up at the person standing in front of her. That voice. She could recognize it even in her sleep. It was Lynn Pebblestone.
“Lynn.” Sasha swallowed. Now it was official. She would never have another Gin & Tonic in her whole life.
Wimbledon, Great Britain
In Wimbledon, most of the players rented apartments or houses in the village around the tournament site, which gave the only Grand Slam played on grass a peculiar, laid-back atmosphere. It was like being at home which made it easier for the players to relax and enjoy their time off court and Wimbledon Village itself was charming and offered several cozy pubs for an evening out.
For Ted and Tom each morning began with a delicious routine that Tom could easily get addicted to. To the sound of birds tweeting the two lovers woke up in each others’ arms, then Tom locked his eyes with Ted’s before planting a soft kiss on his lips. Yes, Wimbledon definitely had its charms.
“Good morning,” Ted smiled. It was a matchless day for Ted but he nonetheless had to get up and go to practice soon enough. Perhaps once the tournament was over, they would have some time off to spend together without any tournament schedule to respect. But until then Ted was focused on winning his home slam, leaving Tom to spend time with Ted’s mother Julie.
When they came down to the dining-room that overlooked a private garden, she was already waiting for them.
“Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, gentlemen,” Ted’s mother stated without looking up from the newspaper.
Sitting down at the table Tom overlooked a typical English breakfast waiting in front of him. Digging in he almost missed that Ted wasn’t sitting down with them. He had grabbed two sandwiches and had shouldered his racquet bag.
“You are already leaving?”
“Back soon,” Ted smiled at Tom, blowing him a kiss through the room before leaving the house. Tom sighed. Soon enough, they would be back in the craziness of hotel rooms and journalists. They wouldn’t have time for these peaceful, quiet moments. He looked at the closed door and swallowed. If he had known that Ted would not have breakfast with them, he would have remained in bed a bit longer.
“Oh don’t worry, darling. The earlier he leaves for practice, the earlier he will be back. By the way, how about booking a table for you two at some restaurant tonight? I am sure Teddy would appreciate the attention.”
“I think he mentioned that he has to call Felicia. I’m not sure if he is free tonight, Julie.” Tom didn’t like to admit it but he did sound disappointed.
“Her.” Julie’s snorted.
A bit surprised, Tom looked up at her.
“What is wrong with Felicia?” Tom sure wouldn’t have minded getting her out of the picture altogether but he tried not to interfere with Ted’s arrangement with Felicia. She sure came in handy for Ted. But he wondered why Julie didn’t approve of the fake relationship. She had to be relieved that there were no nasty rumors about Ted and Tom.
Julie put down the newspaper.
“The way she treated Amanda was disgusting! Just awful what she did to the poor girl. She is using people as if they were toys. Just look at Amanda now! Heartbroken. Can’t win a match anymore. It’s unforgivable!” She picked up the newspaper again, continuing to read as if nothing had happened. Tom raised an eyebrow. Apparently Julie didn’t know that it had been Ted’s idea to separate Amanda and Felicia, even though he didn’t have to work too hard on persuading the singer.
But if there was one thing Tom had begun to get used to regarding Julie, it was the way she put passion in all the things she said, as if she was on a crusade. And regarding her own son it wasn’t too surprising for her to go out on a limb and take sides with Amanda. But Tom also knew, this was only a breakfast conversation. She wouldn’t say that in public. Never. But glancing over to Ted’s mother he had to smile. She might be a nuisance at times, but he had begun to like her more and more.
***
Their practice had gone well and the two girls were satisfied when they headed to the locker room.
“It’s really great that they gave you the Wild Card,” Gabriella said to Elise Renard. “Well, they almost had to, right?” Gabriella grinned at Elise. The
German had won the tournament of s’Hertogenbosch and had been granted a Wild Card for the Wimbledon main draw. Having been a quarterfinalist two years ago surely had helped, too. She smiled back at Gabriella.
“Will you go to the Tennis Nurse Trading Dinner tonight?” Gabriella continued with a whisper. “Morgana told me about it.”
“Oh, I didn’t even know this existed,” Elise laughed. “Who will be there?”
“Everybody, I think.”
Elise hesitated. “No, I don’t think I will go. I have plans for tonight.”
Gabriella shrugged. “I’m not going either. They will only ask which of the Galloway twins I am. I don’t want the attention.”
Elise nodded. “Listen, Gabriella,” she started while pushing open the door to the locker room building open. “I didn’t mean to be so rude back then at the players’ party in Melbourne.”
Since that encounter at the Australian Open players’ party, when Gabriella had approached Elise about the Tennis Nurse novel they hadn’t spoken about the encounter. Gabriella sensed that Elise was sorry that her reaction had been a little harsh. She had brushed off Gabriella and had run out of the bathroom, which had given Gabriella a little shock as it had taken her quite an effort to pluck up the courage and mention Tennis Nurse to Elise. It always involved a jump in at the deep end and you didn’t know how the other would react.
“You caught me off-guard and at that time I wasn’t really comfortable with talking about the whole thing, you see?” Elise added.
“Are you comfortable now?” Gabriella took a look inside the locker room but it was empty. They stepped inside.
“Better, I guess,” Elise answered with a shrug. “I haven’t told my parents though.”
Gabriella sat down with a sigh. “Family is always the hardest, right? I haven’t even come out to Lulu yet. I don’t know how to do it. She is so straight, you wouldn’t believe it. You and Morgana and two friends at home are the only people who know.”
