Southern Ruby (21 page)

I'd told Mae that I was working the more lucrative night shift at the telephone exchange, which was why I didn't come home until the early hours of the morning.

‘If all goes well,' I said, dabbing perfume behind my ears, ‘I won't be working nights much longer.'

City Park was beautiful in the spring. The magnolias were in full bloom and I stopped for a moment to breathe in the air. The scent of magnolias was the perfect perfume — clean and fresh like lemons but sweet like vanilla too. I continued on with a skip in my step, filled with optimism that something wonderful was about to happen. I hadn't felt that way since my debut.

When I approached the courts, Clifford and Eddie were already there tightening the net. Kitty was warming up in the corner, swinging her racquet and bending her knees. She looked very modern in her tailored shorts and cap-sleeved shirt. I'd gone for a more traditional pleated skirt with a belted tunic top and a wide tulle hairband. I didn't have any choice: it was the only tennis dress I had.

Clifford was the first to spot me. His beaming smile brought the heat to my face. I opened the court gate and he walked towards me, unzipping the cover of a racquet and handing it to me.

‘I thought you might like this one,' he said, a playful glint in his eye. ‘It's my lucky racquet. I was using it the one and only time I ever won a match against my sister.'

‘Well, you did say that Kitty liked to win.'

He looked dashing in his immaculate shorts and a V-neck knitted vest over his shirt; the pure white of his outfit flattered his tanned skin and emphasised his good shape. I had to be careful not to stare. The broody French Creole men were regarded as a handsome breed, but I liked this clean-cut American's
joie de vivre
.

‘Hey, Ruby's here,' I heard Eddie say. He ran to greet me, with Kitty prancing after him.

‘How are you feeling, Ruby?' he asked, wrapping his arm around Kitty's shoulders. ‘Up for a tough game against the champ?'

‘I'll do my best,' I said cheerfully.

Usually I liked to win at anything I did but around Clifford I didn't care about any of that. All I wanted from the day was to have fun.

‘You can't be any worse than Cliff,' Kitty replied. There was a competitive edge in her voice although she was smiling.

Clifford raised his hands as if surrendering. ‘Well, I did warn you that I'm only good at boxing. I'm simply here to make a foursome.'

We spun a racquet. Kitty and Eddie won and chose to serve. Clifford and I took our positions on the court, with me on the forehand side, receiving first, and Clifford up at the net. I was expecting a social game with long rallies and good sportsmanship, and was shocked when Kitty delivered a scorching serve that whizzed straight past me before I even had a chance to see it.

‘All right,' said Clifford, grinning at me. ‘I think this game is going to be over pretty quickly and we can have an early lunch.'

By the time Kitty served to me again it was already apparent she was by far the superior player. She volleyed and smashed fiercely, made a killer drop shot, and soon had me and Clifford running all over the court as she and Eddie quickly won the first game to love. A short match it was going to be indeed!

Kitty raised her arms triumphantly. ‘When you said you were out of practice, Ruby, you weren't kidding, were you? How could you have missed that last shot?'

A prickle of annoyance roused me. Creole women competed on their beauty not their athletic prowess. I turned to Clifford but he only chuckled.

‘Don't take it personally,' he said, patting my shoulder. ‘Kitty wants to win at any cost. Psyching out her opponents is one of her tactics.'

My shoulders tensed up and I rolled them back, trying to relax. I didn't intend to be ‘psyched out' by anyone. After being so friendly towards me in the beginning, Kitty's attitude stung but I wasn't the only one she had her fangs out for.

Eddie played solid strokes and demonstrated a natural eye for the ball, but Kitty didn't give him an ounce of credit. ‘Get to the net! Get to the net!' she shouted at him. When he failed to reach a return from Clifford, and she got to it but then sent it flying over the baseline, she pouted and stamped her foot. ‘You sure messed that one up, Eddie!'

I wasn't sure if my jaw dropped or not, but it felt like it did. Maman had told me the worst thing a woman could do to a man was to publicly humiliate him. But Eddie nimbly toe-danced on the baseline as if he hadn't heard the comment. Americans were certainly different. A Creole man would have been livid.

It came as no surprise that Clifford and I lost the first set six–love.

When we took a short break to dry off and sip water, he whispered to me, ‘Kitty is playing pretty hard, I hope you don't mind. She wants to go into the amateur championships this summer and needs the practice.'

‘She's a very good player indeed,' I confided. ‘We'd better lift our game.'

He laughed and pushed his hair away from his face, and I noticed his hands. They were smooth but large and strong.
Perfect hands for boxing. I imagined slipping my hand into his and the idea of it thrilled me.

‘When Kitty asked you to join us for tennis, I did try to warn you,' he said. ‘I thought, “Oh no, if Ruby plays with us we will definitely never see her again.” Jackie, our usual fourth player, has known Kitty since we were children, and she rather enjoys a fight herself.'

I wasn't exactly enjoying the game, but I did like the way Clifford looked at me. For that, I could put up with anything.

In the second set, Clifford and I got into a better rhythm. I managed to kick some of the rust off my forehand and I hit a perfect cross-court shot into the far corner, which won us the first game.

‘Great shot!' said Clifford with a smirk.

Gradually we played better and our coordination improved. Clifford finally had a chance to show off his athletic prowess with some skilful play at the net, and I enjoyed the feeling of us working together. We fought as a team for every point and I sensed Clifford was having fun beating Kitty for once.

We pulled ahead and soon won the second set six–three. The deciding set went with serve to six–five in our favour. Then after several gruelling rallies, we managed to break Eddie's serve — and win the match!

‘Well, I'll be darned,' said Kitty, relaxing her posture and grinning from ear to ear. ‘Clifford should partner with Ruby more often. She lifts his game and makes me work hard!' When Clifford wasn't looking, she winked at me and I realised that she'd let us win.

‘Well, I'll be darned too,' I said, smiling and shaking my head at her. What was she up to?

I sat next to Clifford and helped Kitty unpack the wicker picnic basket and cooler. She'd brought a feast of sandwiches with the crusts cut off, potato salad, coleslaw and even chocolate fudge cake. I found myself warming to her again. On the court,
she was a fierce competitor, but off it she was a charming hostess. She was thoroughly modern.

Because we were sitting close to each other, whenever Clifford reached for something, his arm would brush against mine and my skin would tingle. When he passed me the platter with the curried egg sandwiches and looked straight into my eyes, I was as happy as a puppy with two tails.

‘Who's your favourite tennis player, Ruby?' Eddie asked.

‘Oh, that's easy,' I replied, accepting a cup of lemonade from Kitty. ‘Althea Gibson. Not only is she the first coloured woman to play at Wimbledon but she has impeccable manners.'

I'd been sincere in my answer, but was pleased to see Clifford's eyes light up in response.

‘She is grace under fire,' he agreed. ‘She and her family weren't allowed on the tennis court until after it closed and she had to play in the dark, yet despite all the obstacles thrown at her she's gone on to be a champion.'

‘Unfortunately, despite being a champion she still has to enter clubs through the back door and can't use the white dressing rooms here in the South,' Kitty added. ‘Segregation is so ludicrous.'

Clifford was about to say something when a car horn sounded. We looked up to see a Cadillac convertible with two women in it pull up near the courts. They waved when they spotted us. Kitty frowned.

The women stepped from the car. One was blonde and full-figured, with her right arm in a sling; the other, dark-haired and slender, was wearing a fashionable tulip dress. I guessed the woman with the sling was Clifford's usual tennis partner who'd broken her wrist horse-riding.

‘Well, hello there,' she said brightly as they approached us. ‘I thought you were supposed to be playing tennis, not lounging around and having a picnic!'

‘We played a good game,' said Clifford, rearranging the
picnic items to make room for the women to sit down. ‘Ruby and I won!'

‘Heavens forbid!' said the blonde. ‘Now I wish I'd seen that.' She plunked herself between Clifford and me so I had no choice but to move away, then she draped her uninjured arm possessively over his shoulder.

‘What brings you two here?' he asked, shifting away from her. ‘I thought you were helping your mothers with the fundraiser?'

‘It was too boring with all those old ladies drinking tea,' said the blonde. ‘We thought we'd scoot over here and see what you were up to.'

She reached up and stroked Clifford's cheek. A prickly feeling overcame me. It was an intimate gesture but this time he didn't move away, despite the fact she was engaged. The diamond in the white-gold ring on her left hand was so big I couldn't miss it.

‘Let me introduce you to Vivienne de Villeray,' Clifford said to the women.

The dark-haired woman reached for my hand and shook it. ‘I'm Laura Simos,' she said. Her skin was cool and scented with a spicy oriental fragrance.

Because of her injury, the blonde girl couldn't shake my hand and instead flashed a set of perfect white teeth at me. ‘And I'm Jackie Fausey.'

Everything about them exuded wealth, from their Tiffany earrings to their perfectly coiffed hair. I felt self-conscious. My clothes were presentable, but they were old. And the only jewellery I hadn't pawned was a set of pearl earrings and a cameo necklace.

‘So how did you find playing against Kitty, Miss de Villeray?' Jackie asked. ‘She acts like a man on the court, doesn't she?'

‘You can call me Ruby,' I told her, although I felt anything but friendly towards her. If she kept flirting with Clifford, she was going to regret it.

Jackie was no natural beauty — she had premature wrinkles around her eyes, and although her features were even they were plain — yet she radiated self-assurance from every pore of her well-upholstered body and I had to admit it gave her a peculiar charm.

The scowl on Kitty's face made it clear that she didn't appreciate Jackie's comment, and I decided my loyalty lay with her.

‘The game was spirited,' I replied. ‘I can see why Kitty is a champion.'

Jackie stared at me, her nostrils flaring, and then laughed uproariously. ‘Well played, Ruby! Your Creole tact is adorable. If only I could be so generous towards my future sister-in-law.'

The whole world turned upside down. My head went woozy. Did Clifford and Kitty have a brother I didn't know about? One to whom Jackie might be engaged? I looked at Clifford, hoping he would set everything straight again but he stared at his sandwich as if it was the most interesting thing on the planet.

Jackie's injured hand started bothering her and she leaned with her full weight against Clifford and rested her head on his shoulder. As brash as she was, I was pretty sure she wouldn't be doing that if she was engaged to Clifford's brother. The beautiful spring day turned a couple of shades darker. I coughed as if something was crawling in my throat. Clifford and Jackie were engaged? Then what had all those smiles and looks he'd given me been about? I barely heard the others when they started a discussion about the baseball season. I'd thought I could tell everything I had to know about Clifford Lalande just by looking at him. Now I realised how foolish I'd been. We had seemed so close a few minutes earlier but it had been an illusion. ‘Men see nothing in their flirtations, and women see everything,' Maman had once warned me. As awkward as it would have been for me to leave the picnic then, every inch of me wanted to flee.
Clifford's tennis partner broke her wrist horse-riding and can't
play
, Kitty had told me when she'd invited me to join them. Why hadn't she said
fiancée
?

‘Do you follow baseball, Ruby?' Clifford asked me.

The friendly expression on his face stung like a slap.

I shook my head, wishing I could get my jumbled thoughts back together.

‘What about football?' asked Eddie.

He and Clifford were making an effort to include me in the conversation. Through pride alone I managed to rally enough to answer, ‘Why, yes, I saw the Sugar Bowl last year and screamed my lungs out for the Saints.'

It wasn't true, of course. I had no interest in football. But I had to say something to avoid making an even bigger fool of myself by withdrawing.

Jackie lit a cigarette and blew a stream of smoke into the air. No, she wasn't beautiful, but she had the self-possession that came from belonging to a family that had been rich for generations and would be rich for generations to come. She hadn't descended from a line of flighty French romantics who'd tossed away their fortune so now the youngest of them had to entice men in a club to drink expensive liquor. I felt as humiliated as I had the day in the hairdressing salon on Canal Street when all the women had laughed at me.

Laura glanced at her watch and announced she had another social engagement. That got everyone else thinking about what they had to do that evening and brought the picnic to an end. I stood up faster than anyone. All I wanted to do was get home and cry into my pillow.