Love Game - Season 2012 (42 page)

“I need Polly fit and well-rested,”
Bernadette retorted. “Or are you really suggesting you two went straight to
sleep as soon as you arrived yesterday?”

Of course, they didn’t. Like in Moscow they
had stayed up until two in the morning. It hadn’t done any damage to Polly’s
game in the Russian capital, and today the doubles team was only scheduled for
practice. What was Bernadette fussing about?

“Yes, we did,” Mint lied. “Went straight to
sleep. Polly was tired because you make her work out too much.”

“Too much?” Bernadette looked Mint over,
then snorted. “I haven’t even started with Polly. I’ll make her work even
harder next year.”

“I don’t think so, Bernadette.” Mint
couldn’t help smiling. “This is your last tournament with Polly. I will play
doubles with her next year.”

Bernadette squinted her eyes. For a short
moment it looked like her face would drop, but then she kept herself together
and didn’t let it happen. Mint gulped. Apparently Polly hadn’t told Bernadette
about her decision yet. The hard look around the Canadian’s mouth told Mint
that Bernadette didn’t like the news.

***

“Have we seen enough mosques now?” Elise
moaned.

Amanda grinned and nodded. They had spent
the afternoon after Amanda’s practice hit strolling through the old part of
Istanbul, buying spices at the market and visiting the Blue Mosque and the
Hagia Sophia – and a handful of others mosques they didn’t know the name of.

“Let’s get a fish sandwich and walk over to
the other side,” she suggested.

On the quay next to the Galata Bridge that
spread from the European to the Asian side of Istanbul a boat was selling fresh
fish kebabs from a big grill. It attracted a long queue of hungry Turks and
tourists who lined up under a little roof on the quayside which sheltered small
tables with chairs. Elise and Amanda joined the queue to grab the simple but
exquisite meal.

“I’ve thought about the new home,” Elise
suddenly said.

“Yes?” Amanda waited. She had been glad
when Elise told her she needed some time to consider such a significant move.
At least it meant that she hadn’t ruled out relocating to Australia from the
start.

“First of all, my training base is in
Florida with Rick Salieri. And my dad is coaching me. If I’m in Australia with
you, there would be no reason for my parents to stay in Florida, you see? They
would also have to move.” Elise contemplated aloud. Amanda had to concede that
she had thought about this point, too.

They had reached the grill boat and quickly
– with hands and feet – ordered their fish kebabs. It came with Turkish bread
and chopped salad and Elise and Amanda added salt and lemon juice. It was
delicious. They strolled along the quay and enjoyed the fresh meal before
picking up the conversation again.

“I told my parents about your plans and –
they don’t want to move to Australia,” Elise said.

Amanda’s heart sank. “So, that’s basically
a ‘no’. You will stay in Florida.”

“No, I would love to move in with you,”
Elise smiled. “But I need to find a way that I can train with my dad.”

Amanda smiled. She suspected the real
reason for Elise’s hesitation was that she didn’t want to part with her parents
after having them around for support all the time.

“And you like the way they pamper you,
right?” she teased Elise, who laughed out loud.

“I do,” Elise said. “You have to admit they
are good at it.” Amanda nodded. Elise’s mother had begun to spoil Amanda, too.
It was hard to say no.

“But when I talked to them, I actually got
the feeling that they applauded the idea that I spread my wings and go explore
without them. I think they believe I’m safe having you around.” Elise chuckled.
“They probably wouldn’t let me near you again had they any clue what we were up
to this season and that we were carrying a huge dildo around.”

“Definitely not,” Amanda said, looking out
onto the water of the Bosporus. “So, they believe it’s a good idea if you come
with me.”

“Basically,” Elise nodded. “My parents
would come two weeks before Christmas and we could all practice together. That
should be fine. But – ,” Elise hesitated for a second. “They wouldn’t keep on
living in Florida. They would move back to Paris.”

They finished their sandwiches and began
walking over the bridge, while Amanda looked for a garbage bin to get rid of
the kebab wrapping.

“We still own an apartment in Paris which
my parents have been renting out since we moved to Florida ten years ago,”
Elise continued. “They suggest that we all use it as a base during the clay
court season. It’s rather large, you see.”

Amanda raised her eyebrows, considering the
surprise offer. Elise watched her from the corner of her eye. “Perhaps we can
even spend time there after Wimbledon,” she suggested carefully. “Unless, of
course, you want to fly back to Australia before heading to the U.S..”

Amanda had to smile. Parting from her
parents seemed a big step for Elise and a little compromise wouldn’t hurt here,
she thought.

“That actually sounds very tempting,
Elise,” Amanda whispered. “I’m afraid though I will grow fat having all those
formidable restaurants around. I will look like an elephant soon and you will
dump me.”

“Never,” Elise exclaimed with a broad
smile. She pulled Amanda close and wanted to hug her when Amanda straightened
up and gasped.

“What on earth?” she blurted out loud.
Elise turned around and followed her lover’s gaze across to the other side of
road.

“Natsumi!” she realized. “What is she doing
here?”

Their Japanese friend was walking quickly
along the bridge’s sidewalk, apparently with a clear destination. It was
bewildering to see Natsumi here, as she wasn’t playing the Year End
Championships – neither in singles nor in doubles. Her injury-delayed year had
put a serious damper on her ranking and she had finished in the lower Top 20s.

“I have no idea,” Amanda shrugged. Then she
gasped. Natsumi had lifted her hand and was waving to someone.

“Who is that?” Elise asked. She didn’t
recognize the former player as she was still far away, but Amanda had. The
woman had reached Natsumi and was giving her a hug. There was also no apparent
reason for this player to be in Istanbul.

“Dani,” she whispered. “Daniela Grieb.”

***

“Does this thing resemble a head?”

Tom Richardson stood in front of Paola
Scetti, knocking his forehead. The Austrian journalist looked up and chuckled.

“Well, it would if you got a haircut.”

“Because I can’t believe it is,” Tom
sighed. “I think it’s become a giant tennis ball lately.”

He sank down onto a chair in the press room
which was still empty as the tournament was just starting tomorrow. Paola
waited.

“Can I use your computer when you’re
finished?” Tom finally asked. “I just need to check my e-mails.”

“What happened to yours?” Paola wondered.

Again Tom knocked his head. “I put it in
the suitcase which I checked in at the Luxembourg Airport. Along with my phone.
I mean, who does that? Does it surprise anyone that exactly this bag has gotten
lost somewhere on the way and is probably still doing rounds on a baggage claim
in Zurich?”

“Oh, no.” Paola tried to choke down the
laughter but managed to do so only poorly.

Tom gave her an angry glance, but then had
to smile as well. “Can you believe it? Now I’m stuck without a phone or access
to the internet. I don’t know how I’ve survived since yesterday. I feel like a
contestant on a jungle camp show.”

“Good for you that you found me in this
vast wilderness that is the press room. I have the transmitter to the outside
world that you need,” Paola patted her computer. “Just let me finish this
write-up. It shouldn’t take long.”

Tom got up and stepped outside the door of
the press room onto the upper stands of the Sinan Erdem Dome. Down on the
court, two doubles teams were practicing.

Good, Tom thought. He could have an eye on
Bernadette while he was waiting for Paola to finish her article. Then he needed
to e-mail or chat with Ted who should have been back in London already. They
hadn’t talked to each other since before Tom’s ill-fated flight to Istanbul.
Who knew what interesting news Ted had found out in Moscow while following
Bernadette around? It wasn’t unlikely that she was the person who had found the
pictures and delivered them to the unsuspecting players. From all he had heard
about the Canadian woman she wasn’t liked on the tour for her ruthless ways. Of
course, none of her fellow players had articulated it that bluntly but Tom
could read between the lines – Bernadette was shunned on the tour.

She did have a Machiavellian touch to her,
Tom thought while he watched the girls exchange forehands. This was the last
tournament before all the players would scatter to the four winds and take a
holiday from the tennis. It was on him to rescue the pictures from Bernadette.

“Ready!” Paola yelled from inside the press
room.

Tom hastened inside and logged into his
e-mail account, only to gasp when a million unread e-mails rolled in. He
quickly checked through them, then found what he was looking for.

“Oh, thank god,” he uttered in relief.
“They found my luggage and it’s already on its way to Istanbul. They will send
it to the hotel. It might even have arrived by now.”

Paola threw her hands up in celebration.
There were two e-mails from Ted, wondering why Tom was unavailable.
Call me
,
the latest mail read.
I have news. Important news.
Tom was just about to
start typing a reply when Paola tapped Tom on the shoulder.

“Hate to interrupt you already, Tom. But I
really need to go and get ready for the players’ party tonight. Perhaps your
computer is already in the hotel.”

Tom nodded. “Yes, of course. I can write
these when I’m back at the hotel.”

He logged out of his account and closed
Paola’s computer.

“So excited for the party tonight,” Paola
mumbled as she packed her bags.

“Did they plan something special?” Tom
asked. He really wasn’t up-to-date with anything anymore.

“Tom!” Paola scolded him. “We will announce
the winner of the Supersport show tonight. Luckily, the player is on site.”

She winked at him, as they both knew who it
would be.

***

“There she is,” Candice whispered.

She, Monica and Agnes were leaning over the
concrete banister, observing the players’ exit door under the staircase. It was
a windy day and the fast-moving, grey clouds didn’t allow the sun to shine
through. Underneath the stairs, they could make out Bernadette’s long, dark
hair drifting in the cool breeze.

“Is she alone?” Monica asked. They waited
for Polly to come out of the exit, but the younger Canadian didn’t show up.

When Bernadette began walking to the
parking lot, Monica pushed Agnes and Candice slightly towards the stairs. “Come
on, before she hops into a car.”

Yesterday evening, after arriving in their
hotel, they had decided that they needed to confront Bernadette. They needed to
know if she was the one behind Morgana’s mysterious source.

They hurried down the stairs and after the
Canadian player.

“Bernie, wait!” Agnes shouted.

Slowly, Bernadette turned around, a flicker
of distrust glowing in her eyes when she saw who was approaching her.

“What do you want?” she growled.

“Bernadette,” Candice addressed her with a
broad smile. “We are planning our annual Year End meeting and it’s been so long
since you attended it the last time.”

Bernadette blinked. “What?”

“Here is your invitation for tonight,”
Candice explained, handing Bernadette an envelope. Monica held her breath. The
Canadian player didn’t seem to trust the friendly approach.

“Who will be there?”

“All of us,” Monica said in a friendly way.
“We also invited Polly, of course.”

“Of course,” Bernadette said cautiously.
“That’s very nice of you.”

Monica threw Agnes a side glance, who
nodded subtly.

“We also need to talk to you about
something very important,” Monica whispered to Bernadette. The others nodded
conspiratorially.

“Has Morgana approached you lately?” Agnes
asked. Bernadette raised an eyebrow.

“We believe she is trying to reveal what
happened back then,” Candice threw in with a worried look. “It wouldn’t be good
for all of us. We need to stick together and work on a plan on how to prevent
this.”

Monica watched Bernadette from the corner
of her eye. They needed to give Bernadette the feeling that they trusted her.
They needed to pull her in and hope that she would either give herself away by
mistake and admit that she was Morgana’s source or, however unlikely, stop
giving Morgana information because she was happy to be reaffiliated with the
old group.