Page 11 of Hit For Six (Balls and Banter #1)

‘Hi, Montgomery. So… I hear you’re in marketing, too?

I’ve just been promoted to director in my company, Phnaphnaphna.

’ At least that’s how Monty’s cochleas translated the woman’s nasal vibrations.

Joanna, her coltish frame, chunky velvet headband and thick thatch of auburn hair, took horsey to stratospheric heights.

She skewered him with a challenging look that told him he really ought to know everything about her business and its place in the FTSE 100 index.

‘Luxury London event planners. We’re practically on speed dial for the Palace and A list celebs. You must have heard of us.’

So dull, even if admirably to the point.

But ultimately– and regardless of their position in the posh stakes– all the single ladies trotted out these lines when they were foisted on him at a Beauchamp-Carmichael do.

And they all hogged the conversation, as if desperate to mark their territory before another woman got a look in. Monty was sick of it.

‘Actually, I’m much more into Twenty20.’

‘Oh, yes.’ Joanna snort-laughed. ‘I’m partial to a bottle of that too. Although a nightcap of Sheridans after dinner is so underrated, don’t you think?’

Dear God. She actually thought he was talking about that horrific Mad Dog fortified wine that everyone had necked in the nineties– only to very swiftly regret it when they turned the shade of the kiwi-lemon variety.

On cue, Monty’s father appeared, much to his loitering mother’s disdain.

Helena waved her hands frantically in the air in a bid to catch her son’s attention and keep him talking.

Well, she could carry on doing the Charleston.

He wasn’t interested and he wasn’t playing this game.

‘Please excuse me, Joanna.’ Monty didn’t want to lead the woman on but such was his thrill at the escape route that he found himself taking her hand and bringing it to his lips.

Now his mother would be Viennese waltzing around the lawn at the prospect of wedding planning.

‘It’s been wonderful to chat but my father’s giving me one of those looks whose hidden meaning would imply that we’ve had a major catastrophe with one of our overseas branches. Toodle pip.’

‘Oh, that’s okay, sweetie. I’ll be sure to catch you later and we can pick up where we left off,’ he swore he heard the woman mutter under her breath.

Not if he could help it. Monty would never usually lie or peddle out such a goodbye– Christ, he’d be saying holibobs next– but Joanna unnerved him and he intended to give her a wide berth.

Saskia flashed him a conciliatory smile as he cut loose.

Not that any of her friends were much better.

But after his eldest sister’s teenage matchmaking schemes had seen her cohort bombard him en-masse to the point that he’d locked himself in the tennis court changing rooms, where he’d been forgotten about until he’d failed to show up for supper, Saskia had at least had the sense to give up and watch from afar as the rest of the family played Cupid instead.

It wasn’t that he’d never met a woman of his own accord.

But for some reason, unfathomable only to his family, most of the women Monty had felt a genuine connection with over the years had been educated at state school.

And so he’d known for a long time that he didn’t want the posh version of cricket or relationships.

He didn’t fit into the jigsaw he was expected to be a piece of.

‘Hey!’

He went in for a hug with his father, but Frederick’s shoulders were as rigid as a box pleat. Monty frowned inwardly at the fashion reference. He really needed to get out more.

‘Hey to you too!’

Frederick held his son at arm’s length, surveying him as if searching for hidden clues. Curiously, it seemed Monty’s lie to Joanna was steeped in gut instinct. He’d never seen his father looking so panicked.

‘You played well yesterday, despite certain circumstances.’ Frederick shook his head disapprovingly.

‘What a vile creature. I left you a string of messages, Monty. Did you not receive them? We’re going to have to call an emergency meeting first thing Monday to discuss damage limitation tactics after her bloody striptease. ’

And just like that, the butterflies took flight in Monty’s stomach again.

But this had nothing to do with the tainting of Beau-re-mi’s image; Monty couldn’t give a shit about that.

He couldn’t explain the yearning he had for the beautiful stranger.

He wasn’t one for anything woo-woo but he was damned if he could put words to what was going on in his head.

It wasn’t just the lusting, he felt his hackles rise once more at somebody else taking a pop at the girl.

And now there was to be a company meeting about her!

Yet if he defended her unfathomable actions to his father, he’d never hear the end of it.

So he remained silent on the matter– and the fact that he’d booked Monday off.

Frederick was in one of those talking-at-you moods anyway.

Let him carry that on into the meeting and get everybody worked up over nothing.

‘Changing the subject– and because Roddie’s trip around the sun makes us all a little pensive– your mother and I aren’t getting any younger.

We want to be sure that you’re seriously thinking about settling down so that we can relax into retirement, knowing everything’s in good hands.

This cricket malarkey won’t last for ever, as enticing as the highs might feel.

You’ll be retired in just over a decade, and that’s if you escape injury.

’ Frederick beckoned a waiter for a fresh glass of fizz and Monty tried to ignore the sting of his words.

It always felt as if his parents were taking a swipe at his family members when they disrespected the game and its prospects.

They would never understand how much more T20 meant to Monty than simply slogging a ball with a bat.

Bath Beasts were his brothers. ‘His father took a lengthy and thoughtful sip. ‘Bea’s friend, Joanna, seems like an interesting prospect.’ He tipped his head needlessly in her direction.

‘Fairly easy on the eye. Far more likely to remain loyal. A society woman who is extremely well-connected where business opportunities are concerned. It’s no use waiting for perfection, Monty. Trust me, it doesn’t exist.’

Didn’t that just say everything about his parents’ marriage?

Monty suspected they’d stopped being lovers a while ago; a rather alarming image– even if it was to be thanked for his provenance.

It was all about friendship these days for his mother and father as they lived their separate lives, fiercely protecting their legacies.

Heck, they were more like acquaintances.

And now they were hellbent on passing this burden down the line.

He thought back to this morning’s brief chat with London when he’d been training the youngsters. His coach-slash-agent had been cagey on the details but had given Monty that infamous smile of his. The one that told you he was brimming with excitement and you just had to bide your time to know why.

‘Just bear with me, mate. I think we’ll have something concrete on the table by the middle of next week. I’m not going to jinx it by spilling what I know so far… no matter how much you try to bribe me, but be ready to take a morning off at short notice.’

This was accompanied by a stinger of a high five.

‘Monty?’ Frederick’s voice snapped him out of his reverie. ‘You look like you need something stronger than a Pimm’s. Is everything alright?’

‘Oh, absolutely.’ Monty blinked rapidly, re-adjusting to his physical whereabouts. ‘I was just thinking about the AGM next Friday.’ He stared into his drink, miffed with himself for being so weak when he should be planting the seeds to let his father down gently.

‘That’s my boy.’ Frederick smiled at last. ‘Come on… let’s sneak into the library and christen my bottle of vintage Scotch over a cheeky Cohiba. None of this lot will miss us. We can run through the meeting agenda and make a toast to you finding an eligible bachelorette.’

What was the point in protesting? Or reminding his father that whilst he might have a window of down time right now, whisky and cigars were hardly going to help him stay on top form.

Or coming out with the truth: this potential T20 England contract meant he’d no longer be able to work for the company; his commitment to what Frederick and Helena merely regarded as a hobby would become his new full-time job.

It was becoming more and more impossible to count his blessings in this fake world he’d been born into.

Sometimes Monty wondered if he’d been swapped at birth.

You read stories about that. And right now it was the only thing that made sense, even if he did look quite a bit like his parents.

Because he didn’t want any of this meaningless crap.

All of which only compounded the conclusion that Monty had come to in the past few hours.

Even if he got signed up to play internationally, something had to give.

He was ready for a whole new everything.

The pathetic thing was, with all the resources at his disposal, he wasn’t sure how he could make it happen without his family disowning him.