The First Deadly Sin by Gwen Masters

Author:Gwen Masters
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Headline
Published: 2010-10-15T00:00:00+00:00

The Tie Breaker

by Phoebe Grafton

To be fair, Gerald’s a good tennis club chairman. He’s able to devote a lot of spare time to it; possibly because nobody asks him to play. Not unless they are really stuck. Most times when they are that stuck they simply cancel the booking.

You see, from a tennis point of view Gerald’s well past his sell-by date.

During Wimbledon fortnight I’m perched on the edge of my seat, hands sweating, body tensed, salivating over those virile, fast, macho hunks. As they sprint about the court with vigour and determination my squeals of delight are only interrupted by Gerald’s gentle snoring in his chair in the corner.

Gerald used to be good ... well, reasonable. Credit where it’s due.

He was runner-up in the inter-village play-off against Budleigh Salterton a few years ago.

Sadly there were insufficient funds available to provide a trophy for the runners-up, so the occasion went unnoticed.

Not that you can accuse me of being unsupportive. Didn’t I take on the job as membership secretary?

It’s a full-time job for it requires me to put the prospective club members through their paces.

It’s not that I consider myself a better player, you understand. On the contrary, I have nothing to show for it. The trophy I won in the inter-village play-off against Budleigh Salterton vanished. Gerald claimed that it was taken by thieves after a break-in at the club house. Strange. Nothing else went missing.

New club members generally join in pairs as husband and wife arrive to settle in the village. There are occasions when an unencumbered male expresses interest in membership.

I’m then required to play them in a trial match. Some of the more, shall I say, active, newcomers take a long time to recapture some sort of form. On such occasions trial sessions take simply ages.

In my defence can I submit that it has something to do with the very long winters we seem to get these days.

I’m not sure that Gerald trusts me absolutely. It all stems from that time Lorenzo was a club member. We don’t get many Lorenzos staying in our village.

He was typically South American. Handsome, swarthy, charming, complete with smouldering brown eyes. Gerald hated him on sight. This was way back in Gerald’s playing days.

My spouse swore that his dislike had nothing to do with the fact that Lorenzo used to leave him for dead each time they played.

Lorenzo and I eventually teamed up for mixed doubles. Then we both used to leave Gerald for dead in club matches. Poor Gerald, he was no match for Lorenzo.

This applied as much off court as it did when we played. From a woman’s point of view the likes of Lorenzo pass through a girl’s life only very rarely. To let one slip through your fingers condemns you to a legacy of lasting regret.

Therefore, to take the sort of drastic action necessary when an opportunity like Lorenzo presents itself, means that will-power just doesn’t come into it at all. A girl’s got to do what a girl’s got to do.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.