by Fox Brison
A lame excuse but it was the best I could come up with.
It was easier than admitting the truth.
***
“There’s no sign of her,” Julia said, “but that might not necessarily be a bad thing.”
“You think this was a mistake?” I asked.
“Kinda, she was adamant she didn’t want us here.” Julia scanned the crowds nervously. “But if it’s going to help, who am I to argue with the winds of fate.”
“My girlfriend the poet,” Dana said with a smile.
“What can I say? It’s the creative writing genius inside that keeps trying to break through the pervasive sport clichés. Georgy’s first match is on court five, I think it’s that one over… hang on, there she is.” We all looked to where Julia pointed and saw Georgia bouncing nervously on her toes, twisting her body as she stood next to the net for the coin toss. “If we sit behind her we’ll have a great view.”
“No.” I was decisive. I hadn’t stopped thinking about George since she stormed out that day. It was becoming a tad obsessive and I myself might have to start therapy if I didn’t get a grip. Yes, I missed her, I missed her terribly, but right now that was a secondary consideration. If George suffered a similar fate on match point like she usually did, I needed to see from the side, not from behind. “Over there. She won’t see us, but right now that’s how it has to be.” I saw Julia’s utter disbelief. “Trust me, Jules, please.”
The match was a one-sided affair. Georgia was clearly the better player and eased into a one set, two break lead. She only had to hold her serve and she would win.
And therein lay the problem.
Deep breaths. I whispered to myself, willing Georgia to hear my thoughts as she bent over and tied her shoelace. Deep breaths. She stood and bounced the ball several times, readying her service action, readying her mind. She glanced over her shoulder and then back at the opponent.
“Did you see that?” I asked Dana. Julia was standing in front of us caught up in the tension of the game.
“That glance over her shoulder? Yes, I saw it, why? What does it mean?” Dana was used to observing and evaluating subtle pointers, but as Georgia wasn’t her patient she didn’t know her well enough to gauge what she was seeing. I had a handle on it though, and what I saw was important, possibly even crucial in helping Georgia break her match point voodoo.
“In one of our early sessions she mentioned that each player has a couple of seats reserved for their coach and family members,” I explained.
“I’ve seen that at Wimbledon. Where the winner climbs over everyone’s head to kiss the girlfriend.”
“Exactly. Okay so in smaller tournaments, like here, the seats tend to be behind the server.”
“She’s looking for her family.” Dana shook her head in bemusement. “You’re amazing. It was such a minute movement, it just looked like part of her service action.”
I blushed, knowing the compliment was unwarranted. “I wish I could take the credit for being so sharp eyed, Dana, but no, it was down to good old fashioned grind I’m afraid. I’ve been watching tapes of George’s matches practically on a loop since I heard she was going to play Laura. It’ll probably destroy George if she is soundly beaten by Hargreaves; it may be something she never recovers from.”
“I understand, Em. Family is an integral part of who we are and George’s whole sense of self, her self-esteem, self-worth, even possibly her self-respect, is still bound tightly to hers.”
“Exactly. She only does it on match point, or when she’s struggling to get through a game. When she loses the point, or a little bit of momentum, she does it more and more until it takes over her game completely.”
“So how do we fix it? It’s not like we can kidnap her family and tie them to seats behind her!”
“I want to try something. It might help, it might not, but it’s at least a plan.” Georgia had lost the game and was now sitting under the umpire’s chair, wiping her sweaty face with a towel. Hiding from the failure. “Julia, would you go and sit in the family seats? Can you see them?”
Jules nodded, eagerly. “In front of David?” When I agreed, she quickly moved.
Two minutes later, Georgia’s opponent, a young player called Vanessa Hardy who was seventeen and a junior champion at several of the larger tournaments, had easily held leaving George with another opportunity to serve for the match.
Bounce, bounce, bounce.
Bounce, bounce, bounce.
Bounce… catch.
She glanced up and caught sight of Jules, who smiled and waved and whooped like a bit of a lunatic.
Georgia smiled and I sensed a calm wash over her. I could practically see it ease through tight muscles and relax her apprehensive features.
Bounce, bounce…
Thwack.
Georgia held the game to love.
***
Julia ran up to Georgia afterwards, hugged her, did an absolutely crazy happy dance and basically made a holy show of herself. “I knew you could do it, but I think I might be your lucky Irish charm. Maybe I should just give up my job and travel the world with you full time.”
“I think Dana might have something to say about that.” George said wiping herself down as Dana and I joined them.
“C’mon, Jules, let’s go get a drink,” Dana took her girlfriend’s hand. “I think I need one after seeing the victory dance you just performed.”
And then it was just me and George.
“I didn’t expect you to be here,” she said softly. She was looking down at the gravel, moving a stone around with her toe.
Then she looked up and locked eyes with me. The world no longer existed outside the two of us.
“I know I don’t have any right to be here, Dana let slip you were playing and I just…” God, I wanted to see you, be near you, be there for you. I didn’t say any of that, of course.
“Wanted to see how I got on,” Georgia gave a sad little smile. “It’s okay, Emma, I’m not mad. I’m happy you came, it means a lot.”
“You figured it out?” I said. “Why you lost your nerve on match point?”
Georgia chuckled. “I never thought I’d solve the problem in Colchester of all places.” There was a minute’s silence; the silence of grieving, the silence of remembering, the silence of confession. Finally, like the roar of a crowd after the tribute was over, she spoke. “I was looking for my parents. When they weren’t there I panicked and it all came back to me. Jesus,” she ran her fingers through damp hair, “who would have thought it could be something so simple? But what I can’t figure is why I didn’t have the trouble when I first came back. You’d have thought it would have been worse then.”
“In the beginning you were so focussed on the match and on your technique, that when you glanced up you probably didn’t register who was there, just that someone was. Psychologically, your mind made the swap for you. By the time your game was coming back to where it was previously, there wasn’t the need for such intense focus on technique. Thus you lost your poise.”
Georgia was quiet. “I guess I always knew what was missing in my life but I didn’t want to put a name to it, afraid that by labelling it I would give it yet more ownership over my game. Thanks, Em.” She took my hand in hers and gripped it tightly. “For everything.”
“Just doing my job,” I said with a shrug.
“Well, I would recommend you to anyone. Except maybe Laura Hargreaves.” I smiled.
“How many more matches will you play today?”
“One more for sure. If I win, then tomorrow the same format. Semi-final, then final. If…”
“I have to get back for Lawrie tomorrow afternoon, but I planned to stay the night and watch your first match in the morning, if that’s okay?” I asked a touch nervously. “Dana and Jules said they’d stay the whole weekend. We’re all booked into the Travelodge.”
“Nothing but the best for you guys?” Georgia laughed, an honestly cheerful laugh. It was refreshing. Despite the
revelation about her father, in spite of our history, she was genuinely happy.
I secretly wished it had more to do with me staying over than with her mental block being eased. Selfish, I know, but it was the truth.
“Five star all the way, babe,” Julia joined us with a tray of coffees and Georgia’s herbal tea. “We booked you a room too.”
Georgia didn’t say anything, but I could see tears of… maybe happiness..? Welling in her eyes. Suddenly the world tilted on its axis.
I wasn’t falling any longer, because I’d already dropped.
Chapter 40
Georgia
When we arrived to check in at the Travelodge, we discovered that there had been a mistake and I was actually booked into a family room with Dana and Julia.
Okay, so that was not going to happen.
“Hey, it’s okay,” I said to Julia who, despite the ‘it’s no problem, erm, you can just bunk down with us,’ looked like Tuesday had just pissed on her favourite pair of shoes. “It’s not the first time I’ve slept in Ker-”
“You can share my room!” Emma blurted out. The three of us looked at her, startled; her voice had been kind of loud and sharp. “There’s two beds. I don’t snore.”
“I’m not-” I was about to say sure, but she interrupted me again.
“It’s okay. We’re friends aren’t we?” She glanced at me quickly for reassurance.
“Yeah, yeah we are.” I will admit my heart dropped into my shoes. Actually maybe even lower than that. Friends. And clearly not with benefits. With a deep breath I followed Emma to our room.
Our room.
I liked the sound of that.
Dana and Julia were on a completely different floor to us, so we left them in the lift and walked slowly down the corridor. The thin blue carpet muffled our footsteps, and all I could hear was the racing of my heart. Now I wouldn’t be melodramatic and say it felt like dead woman walking, but when we made it inside room 307 the electricity between us was ten times the amount used to power Old Sparky. I immediately hit the shower, and Emma called Dana to confirm timings for dinner, at least that was the excuse she made. Briefly, I wondered if she was regretting the offer. After half an hour I realised I couldn’t stay in the bathroom any longer and I closed off the water and reached for the towel.
Shit.
I had been in such a hurry to escape I’d left it in the bedroom. I looked at the handtowels. Yeah, they weren’t going to do the job. “Em?” I opened the door a crack.
“Hmm?” She was lost in thought by the window.
“I left the towel….” She turned and looked; the water was dripping from my hair, which I had slicked back from my face. A look of undisguised lust passed over Emma, practically ephemeral, but it was definitely there. It went straight to my core. “Fuck, Em, you can’t look at me like that.” She didn’t say anything, simply handed me the towel and closed the door between us, obviously convinced it should always be that way.
***
I sent Emma off to dinner alone. I pleaded tiredness, but in reality I didn’t want to be sat in a romantic restaurant with the object of my affection, wanting what I couldn’t have. When I heard her key in the door, I feigned sleep; it was the only way I was going to make it through the night. I had to ignore her. I heard her fumble in the darkness, and then the click of the bathroom light and the extractor fan kick in.
The next thing I heard was an almighty clatter and an angry “Fuck!” I rushed out of bed, almost tripping over my trainers and breaking an ankle. Emma was standing staring at the mirror in the bathroom, the water cup on the floor, its contents pooling underneath her electric toothbrush. She looked catatonic.
“Em, are you alright?” I picked up the toothbrush and rinsed it under the tap before handing it back. “You’re like a cat on a hot tin roof – in the Sahara Desert. Look, I know we discussed remaining friends, and I appreciate the eff-”
She shut me up with a searing kiss. I felt her knees buckling and it was only my arm around her waist which stopped her from melting onto the floor like a puddle of goo. Actually, which stopped both of us from melting onto the floor. “Well that was unexpected,” my voice hitched when we drew back from the kiss. “And it took you long enough.” I moved forward and took control.
I smiled.
I knew we were a perfect fit. And it seemed Emma was finally in agreement.
Chapter 41
Emma
I played with George’s hair, softly stroking it in a tender movement that felt as intimate as our lovemaking. Even though we were in a single bed, it could’ve been half the size again and it wouldn’t have mattered, our bodies were entwined as one.
My stomach growled.
“Jesus, and you had the cheek to tease me that Sunday at your place? Do you have a lion in there?” Georgia kidded, sitting up and looking in my eyes.
“I skipped lunch and I was a bit distracted at dinner. I spent more time chasing the food around my plate.”
“Distracted, eh? Was it a good distraction?”
“Oh yes, monumental.”
“Monumental?” George polished her fingernails against her chest. “I’ll take that.”
“Okay stud, how about I feed us and then we can resume the distraction.”
“I like the sound of that, but can we order in? I don’t want to leave this room. Pizza?”
“You’re worse than Lawrie!” At the mention of my son I frowned, but it didn’t last long as I watched George climb naked out of bed.
“I’ll go phone an order in. Do you have a preference?”
“I’ll eat anything… oh behave you,” I covered my face with a pillow as Georgia’s laughter rang out.
***
“I don’t think there’s anything better in the world than cold pizza in bed,” Georgia admitted with a happy sigh.
“Really?” I raised my eyebrows. “Was I doing something wrong?” I’d barely crawled out of bed to pay for the pizza at reception, before it had lain forgotten on the chest of drawers. Hence the cold pizza being eagerly consumed.
“Oh no, you were doing everything right,” Georgia’s satisfied smile was all the confirmation I needed. “Hey, how long is Lawrie at his sleepover?”
“He won’t be back until tomorrow afternoon. They’re going to some concert tonight.” I took a sip out of my water bottle and waved it at Georgia who declined.
“No, I’m good. Whilst I like the idea of fucking all weekend, and I really, really do, I thought maybe the three of us could do something on Sunday afternoon, go for a cycle maybe? Lawrie told me he’d like to try out the new camera his Dad bought him. There are some unusual buildings along the Backs. I thought we could take a picnic and… and you’re not looking impressed with the idea.” I glanced away, refusing to meet her eyes. “Em, I thought it would be nice, exercise, Lawrie doing something he liked, us doing something together…” and then realisation dawned. “But you don’t want to do anything outside of this room and certainly not with us as, God forbid, a family unit.”
“We’re not a family, George. Not matter how much you want to pretend, Lawrie and I can’t replace your parents.” As soon as I said the words I wished I could take them back.
“Fuck. You.” George leapt out of bed grabbing her clothing and hurriedly pulling it on, not even bothering to make sure it was the right way round.
“George, wait.”
“No, I don’t think so. I can’t believe I was so stupid to believe… I thought you’d finally… What was this, Emma? A booty call?” Seeing my blush she nodded. “I see.”
“No, you don’t,” I protested.
“Yes, I do. I’m sick of doing the chasing, of making the compromises. Well here’s a compromise Dr Myers. I love you. I love you so very much that right now my heart feels like it’s going to burst out of my chest and slap me in the face for being so stupid. But guess what? I don’t care. I don’t care because I’m in love and I’m hurting again and it’s great. It’s great because I am feeling agai
n. I’m not emotionally numb. I will wait for you to catch up, Emma, for you to realise this,” she waved her hand angrily between us, “this is something worth having. But I won’t wait forever. Next time, you have to come to me, you have to put yourself out there and say it. Say the words I know are in your heart.”
A few minutes later the bedroom door slammed shut and I hugged my knees to my chest. I knew it was the right thing, letting her leave. I knew I couldn’t tie Georgia down to my life and I knew watching her go now was easier than if she left in a few years’ time.
For her, for me and for Lawrence.
Chapter 42
Emma
I hadn’t spoken to George since we’d slept together and I’d put my size nines in my mouth again. I didn’t know what was wrong with me. I wasn’t her therapist anymore, she was getting over her block and we’d shared the most unbelievable night together. She made me feel things I only thought were in movies or the best romance books and yet…yet I still couldn’t let her in. I was the one who needed therapy, not George.
I was nervous.
This was unusual as I was normally one of the coolest and most collected individuals you could ever wish to meet. It was why I’d won a gold medal. It was why I didn’t even think for one minute about getting rid of my son, as my parents had at first suggested.
Actually I wasn’t nervous, I was petrified.
I saw Dana and Lawrie sitting in the stands and Julia walking towards them with a tray of what looked like coffee, although I was sure Lawrie would have asked for a smoothie. The courts were surrounded by kids and parents and a lot of photographers. News had spread faster than Mrs Simpson’s prize winning apple and blackcurrant preserve at the Women’s Institute Annual Jam Making Jamboree, and people, lots and lots of people, wanted to see Laura Hargreaves play their own Georgia Maskel. Of course, no one gave George a chance, not even half a one, but she had become a firm favourite with the kids at the tennis centre the past few years and they were all behind her one hundred percent.
