Page 38

Today was going to be the hottest since we’d arrived, I could feel it in the air, even though it was only ten in the morning. In my white vest and navy city shorts combo, which was the closest thing to tennis whites I could throw together, the sun was warming my skin and I thought I might have to pop my sunglasses on if there was to be any hope of me seeing the ball and subsequently hitting it. Theo was limbering up next to me, stretching his hamstrings, which I thought was a bit much for the kind of laid-back rallying I had in mind.

The court felt very professional and I didn’t know what you’d officially call the surface, but it looked like a sort of red clay, and it felt very ‘South of France’ with an achingly attractive couple who looked like they were warming up for the French Open playing next to us, grunting every time they slammed the ball over the net. Off in the distance was a huge hotel with a cute red awning over every window and expansive gardens housing the huge pine trees that were obviously native to this part of the world, plus a slew of impressive palms. A chalk scoreboard was hanging on the netting to one side, which Theo was looking ominously at.

‘You do know this is just a friendly game, right?’ I said, approaching him with concern. He seemed to be taking this very seriously and was all kitted out in actual tennis whites, like a slightly more beardy Roger Federer, which wasn’t an unpleasant look.‘Is it?’ he said, feigning innocence and plunging into a series of inter-connecting lunges and squats.

Oh God, this was not what I was expecting at all. I bet he was a member of one of those swanky tennis clubs that were as pretentious as hell and where everyone was secretly ruthlessly competitive.

I glanced nervously at Claire and Rob who were warming up on the other side of the net. Rob was wearing board shorts and a tie-dye T-shirt, which was a sign that he didn’t take tennis anywhere near as seriously as Theo clearly did.

‘Let’s just have fun, yeah?’ I said, feeling the need to reiterate the point. We were doing this for Claire and Rob, not so that Theo could dazzle everyone with his ball skills.

‘I’m afraid I can’t promise that,’ he said, worryingly launching into a set of star jumps.

Aaaargh, what had I done? I should have checked that Theo was happy to throw the game before I arranged all of this. My only hope was that Rob was a better player than his garish attire suggested. Perhaps he had his own set of pristine tennis whites at home but had decided, quite sensibly, not to bring them on a couples retreat.

‘Right,’ I said, not wanting to keep the anticipation going any longer. ‘Shall we get going?’

Theo took charge, working out who was starting at which end and then telling me where to stand, and that as we’d won the toss, he would be serving first. I had a very bad feeling about this, which was quickly justified when Theo smashed a serve over the net that Rob made a feeble failed attempt to hit back. I caught Claire’s eye and mouthed:Sorry. She grimaced at me with good humour. I had clearly made a mistake in assuming that Theo was as crap at tennis as I was.

The game progressed, with Theo dominating and Rob getting the occasional winning shot back, which seemed tospur him on. I heard him giving Claire a pep talk although to be honest, it felt like the two of us were pretty much redundant, crouching poised at the net while the guys flew about the remaining three quarters of the court. It felt a little sexist, if the truth be told, because I would have liked to have tried hitting it from the back of the court – not to say I’d have done it successfully, but it was a game, and games were supposed to be fun. Although, on the other hand, I had to admit there was something quite sexy about hearing Theo thundering about behind me, grunting as he hit a particularly hard shot. I looked over my shoulder a couple of times and felt bad that he was so red-faced and determined while I was wafting about barely breaking a sweat, but he only had himself to blame.

At one point, while he was handing me the ball because it was my turn to serve, which I could tell pained him, I whispered to him to take it easy.

‘We’re supposed to be making sure Rob has a good time,’ I hissed at him.

‘What?’ he said, looking at me confused.

‘Let them win, OK?’ I said in what I hoped was a stern manner.

Theo looked me directly in the eye. ‘Scarlett, there is absolutely no way that is going to happen.’

For fuck’s sake. If I’d known he’d be this determined to win, I’d never have come up with any of this. And I felt terrible because now Rob was going to feel all emasculated instead of us showing him what a lovely time he could be having in Cannes and that it was worth them spending all that money he’d logged on his spreadsheet.

We played on, with me messing up as many shots as I could without being too obvious – not that I had to try that hard, to be honest – so that it gave Claire and Rob a fightingchance to catch us up. And I noticed that as time went on, Rob’s confidence was building, so that towards the end of the match – and Theo had, of course, insisted on playing three sets as though we were in some kind of professional tournament – the scores were pretty even. I could see Theo glaring at me every time I missed a shot and chose to ignore him as he and Rob engaged in a sort of frat-boy-style battle and Claire and I ducked and scooted out of the way to avoid getting a ball smacked in our faces. As we started the final game, the decider, I lurched so far out of the way that I slammed to the ground, scuffing the entire left side of my thigh. I rubbed at it, wincing. Theo, to his credit, came bounding over.

‘Are you OK?’ he asked, crouching down next to me.

He was breathless, I noticed, his chest heaving and falling, because he’d really been going for it a second or two before. His forehead was rippled with concern as I examined my thigh, which was burning painfully the way it tends to when you’ve just dragged it across a gravelly surface.

‘I’ll be fine,’ I said, attempting to stand up.

‘Here,’ he said, holding out his hand.

I looked warily at it, as though it was something alien and frightening that I shouldn’t go near. I had the distinct feeling that if I took his hand, something would change between us. Which was completely irrational, obviously. What could possibly happen in the split second it would take him to haul me off the tarmac? So I took it. And as his fingers wrapped around mine and his bicep tensed underneath his sweat-soaked T-shirt, I felt a powerful rush run up my arm and into my chest and down into an area that it probably shouldn’t be travelling to. Dropping his hand instantly, I muttered a ‘Thanks’ and limped back onto court. See? I should have trusted my gut. This was bad, bad, bad.We won, obviously, because Theo wasn’t going to let us not, even though I was next to useless due to my leg (who was I kidding – the guys may as well have played a singles match for all the input Claire and I’d had). We all shook hands, with Rob and Theo patting each other on the back, both looking as though they were about to keel over.

‘Great game, man,’ said Rob.

‘It was a close call,’ said Theo. ‘You really gave me the run around.’

Claire and I gathered our things together as they dissected the match, complimenting each other for that serve, or that shot. I felt terrible that Theo didn’t do what I asked and throw the match. Maybe I should have been clearer about my motivation for wanting to help Claire and Rob, but I hadn’t really had a chance and also I hadn’t wanted to break Claire’s trust by telling Theo about the issues they were having with their marriage. Perhaps if I’d spelled it out to him, though, he’d have been more likely to comply. Then again, I couldn’t imagine it. Tennis was clearly his thing. I wondered what else was his thing and simultaneously tried not to watch as he bent over to pull his tracksuit bottoms over his shorts.

I snapped my head round to focus on Claire.

‘I’m so sorry,’ I said to her, keeping my voice low. ‘I had no idea Theo was going to approach our friendly knockabout like a bloody Wimbledon semi-final. I hope Rob isn’t too pissed off.’

‘What are you talking about?’ she shrieked. ‘He loved it! When we swapped ends before the final set, he told me he was going to rejoin our local tennis club. He said sparring with Theo had really got his juices flowing.’

‘But you said he hated losing,’ I said, looking over at them. He and Theo were laughing about something andso admittedly he didn’t seem too fed up, but I still felt as though I’d let Claire down.