Love Game - Season 2011 (14 page)

“That’s not how I envision a relationship,” she said with a tight voice. She could hear Felicia exhale in surprise, followed by a long silence.

“Amanda, I’m sorry,” Felicia finally said. “You see, I’m flying around the world, you’re flying around the world. I’m afraid there was a misunderstanding. I’m really sorry. Take care.” Before Amanda could say something she had hung up. Not bothering to go back into the players’ lounge Amanda sluggishly headed to the locker rooms.

***

Lynn Pepplestone had looked forward to this second round match. She liked Amanda’s game and enjoyed umpiring at her matches, even though she remained neutral in behavior and tone.

“Love – 40,” she said into the microphone.

She wished she could have said something different, but there were the facts right in front of her. Robyn Lawrence had three break points on Amanda Auster’s serve.

Amanda went over to the other side of the baseline and accepted two balls from the ball girl behind her. One she tucked underneath her skirt, the other she let bounce a couple of times. Then she tensed her muscles and tossed the ball high in the air. Too high. She wouldn’t be able to hit it in her usual rhythm so she let it fall back to the ground and started anew.

Lynn Pebblestone kept a straight face but she was amazed. One thing that was reliable in Amanda’s game was her serve. She could serve like a machine. Her ball toss was never too high. At least Lynn couldn’t recall any match where her serve was unreliable and this was already the third time in this match she had to start her serve again. Lynn followed the ball over the net. It kicked up high and Robyn Lawrence struggled to get it back, but she did. Her return landed directly in Amanda’s strike zone. The red-haired player stepped back with her right foot ready to smack the ball with her impeccable forehand. The loud crack when the ball hit the racquet frame produced a murmur of disappointment in the audience as they saw the ball flying high into the air and wide into the stands. Robyn had broken Amanda to love and was now leading 5-1.

That was incredible, Lynn thought. Amanda was an excellent clay court player while Robyn had grown up playing on hard courts and grass mostly. There was no doubt that Amanda should win this match easily. Besides that, she was the defending champion. But it was not so much the British youngster’s effort but Amanda’s lack of performance that had put her in this position. Robyn’s service game went to Deuce. Lynn could tell that Amanda tried to get into the match but also Robyn had made up her mind. She sensed there was a chance to advance to the next round and claim a victory over a Top 10 player. She pulled herself together, managed to get an AD point and served out the game and the set.

During the break Lynn glanced into the stands. The crowd was taking their seats and Lynn liked the look of excitement on their faces. Sometimes she spotted celebrities or actors at the matches, but that happened usually at the Grand Slams. There were players though. She had already made out Monica Jordan in the block reserved for officials and players, as well as Amanda’s friend Natsumi Takashima, who was sitting next to Monica. Checking her watch she advised the crowd to take their seats quickly.

“Time,” Lynn said. Both players got up and walked to the service line.

Lynn checked back on the crowd. There was still someone squeezing through the rows to an unoccupied seat in the upper half of the stands. It was Elise Renard. Lynn looked at Amanda to see if she had noticed Elise’s arrival, but the Australian player remained stone-faced and began serving. Once in a while Lynn glanced up to Elise but with every time Amanda got broken Elise looked more sad and confused. Before Robyn Lawrence converted her match point, Elise had left the stadium.

***

There were the facts. Right before her eyes. She had written them down and now looked them over and over again. Sasha knew she was right, but she couldn’t believe it. This was just too incredible, too daring to be true. She looked up from the little black note book she had filled with her scribbling over the last five days and glanced through the bushes onto the court in front of her. Luella and Gabriella had been hitting balls for the last thirty minutes. Their coach was giving them instructions once in a while. Everything looked normal, but Sasha knew it wasn’t.

It wasn’t just the incident with Gabriella in the locker room that had confused her. Sure, the behavior had been surprising, but sometimes a loss made you cranky and afterwards you pretended to have forgotten about your outbursts. Sasha could understand that. But what was more striking was Gabriella’s playing style. They had faced each other in the quarterfinal of the Australian Open and Sasha had won the encounter in three sets after Gabriella had two match points. But she got tight and in the end lost track of first her game and then the match. In the end it had been easy to win against the more inexperienced player.

Only a few weeks later they played again in the final of Indian Wells. Knowing Gabriella’s game style Sasha went into the match with a clear plan. She would basically play like she had in the Australian Open quarterfinal. But in Indian Wells Gabriella was returning well. She hit winners with her backhand and her forehand and her service percentage looked great. Before Sasha could adjust to her opponents new-found wit and energy she had lost the first set.

The second set wasn’t better from her point of view. Gaga held her service games and had forced Sasha to come to the net where she had never felt comfortable. Even the baseline rallies went Gabriella’s way. In the end Sasha was able to fight her way back into the match and gave it all she could but was still outplayed by the younger player. Her opponent’s drastic change in game style and spirit however had taken her by surprise. And now, Sasha was sure she knew why.

During the whole last week in Miami she had observed the Galloway twins. Not only their practice sessions but also their matches whenever possible. It was hard to tell them apart. Even the commentators had problems during their doubles matches. But with time Sasha had spotted the little differences that made out their characters. Little tics and gestures they couldn’t unlearn.

During one of the matches a lightbulb went on. She understood that while she had indeed played Gabriella in the Indian Wells final it had in fact been Luella in the Australian Open quarterfinal, even though the score board showed Gabriella Galloway’s name. The twins were switching matches.

So it had been Luella who had been unfriendly in the locker room and had been clueless about the
Tennis Nurse
novels? While it was Gaga in the bathroom talking to Elise? This seemed to make much more sense now. Sometimes it was Luella playing for Gabriella, sometimes the other way round. Sasha was intrigued. That was just as risky as what she was doing with Jaro. She liked it. She also loved the fact that she knew about it.

Stuttgart, Germany

Lying in her hotel room bed, Elise stared at the ceiling. The alarm bell had woken her fifteen minutes ago and she had gotten up immediately to open the window and let in the cool morning air before retreating again to the warm cavity of the blanket.

It was a new day, and Elise knew that it could only be a good day. Stuttgart had been a great tournament so far. Due to her injury last year she had missed the tournament and had no points to defend. Without the pressure she had made the third round in singles where she was defeated by Tamara Parova, a feisty and dangerous player. Even though the loss had hurt for a moment she knew that it was a good result and she could build on it. Still struggling in the Australian tournaments she had become better and more confident step by step and now she was sure that one day she could get her old ranking back, perhaps even finish the year in the Top 50  again.

Even though she had lost the quarterfinal she was still in the tournament. Like in Charleston she was playing doubles again and today was semifinals day. Cheered by the German fans her doubles team had been unexpectedly successful. Today they could even make it to the final.

Feeling the warmth of her own body underneath the sheets Elise thought back a week, when Agnes had taken her out to dinner with Candice and Monica. Even though she felt it looked a bit weird to hang out with people who were that much older than her she felt comfortable with them. So much had happened in only a few weeks after she had talked to Agnes in the little café in Indian Wells. The fact that her friend Angela knew about her now and couldn’t care less about Elise’s preferences gave her a new confidence. How relaxing it was that she didn’t have to pretend anymore when she was around Angela. She could even handle Stephanie’s teasing much better, countering with a joke once, which she felt had gained her Stephanie’s respect.

Elise closed her eyes one last time before she had to get up. Her team would play against favorites Martina Rodriguez and Antonia Sapore and could face Stephanie and Angela tomorrow in the final if they won today. Her team. Elise bit her lip thinking about it.

The team was her and Amanda Auster.

Just when they had finished their dinner, Monica had received a phone call and after a few minutes suggested that the caller should come to the restaurant. Soon, a doggish Amanda had joined them and had reluctantly sat down next to Elise. After her initial surprise and heart flutter, Elise had managed to converse with Amanda and the others in a friendly and cheerful tone, successfully hiding her confusion and excitement. If there was one thing she wanted and feared just the same it was sitting close to Amanda, feeling her moves and listening to her Australian accent.

With three very successful doubles players on one table the conversation soon turned to doubles tactics and doubles partnerships and eventually the inevitable happened.

“Why don’t you two play together?” Monica had asked Elise and Amanda while munching an
Apfelstrudel
with vanilla sauce. In unison, both players shook their head vehemently and dismissed the suggestion. Amanda mumbled something about focusing on singles while Elise just looked for an easy way out unable to find one. It would only hurt to spend time with Amanda since she was not available. But the more they protested the more the older girls leaned on them and ultimately they had to say yes.

Elise had told herself to behave calmly and professionally and she had executed her plan very well but recapitulating the week she also had to admit that she was happy. Happy to take the court with Amanda, to sit next to her, to hit balls with her, to talk and laugh with her. It was all she wanted. It was what she had feared. Being so close, but never getting there.

Elise knew that this would hurt in the end as Amanda seemed not interested at all in Elise beyond playing tennis. Lying in bed and staring at the ceiling Elise also knew that it would be a good day.

***

Monica had taken a seat in the block reserved for press and tournament officials. While watching the match she checked her mobile once in a while, updated her social media profiles and tweeted news to the world. A quick glance down onto the court confirmed what she had suspected since she had seen Amanda and Elise playing together two days ago in their first round match.

These two clicked in an amazing way. The German-Australian team were blasting the experienced doubles team of Antonia Sapore and Martina Rodriguez off the court with powerful and precise serving and a witty combination of well-paced ground strokes and skillful volleying. They had taken the first set in only thirty-two minutes and there was no reason to believe they could lose the second. They were already up a break and when they won the next game the German spectators supported them with loud clapping.

Quietly applauding herself a little bit for setting Amanda and Elise up to play doubles, Monica Jordan leaned back during the change of ends, when all of a sudden a loud voice called out for her.

“Monica, I need to talk to you,” Morgana Doré exclaimed over the crowd noise while squeezing through the seats. With a heavy sigh and an even heavier looking bag Morgana Doré sat down next to Monica.

“Sure,” Monica said in surprise. “What is it?”

Morgana looked around suspiciously. The older player wondered what was going on and took a look around as well. Nobody seemed to have noticed Morgana but instead the crowd looked at the court, as the players went to the baseline again. Morgana put down the bag and pulled out an old copy of
Tennis Nurse and The Second Service
.

“Look,” she whispered opening the book and pointing to an underlined passage. “This is you, right?”

Monica took her time looking at the passage. But there was no need to read it. The paragraph described a young girl, who never traveled with a coach or entourage. Her trademark shot was a beautiful one-handed backhand down the line. Monica had to laugh. How often had she been asked this question?