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One month later, on a sunny Saturday in June, I pulled my baseball cap low to hide my guilty eyes and prepared to leave the house as though going to work.
“Cami?” my mother called, coming out of the kitchen. I froze.
“Don’t forget your racket.”
I turned without really thinking and took it from her hands. “Thanks.”
Then I realised the significance of it. I'd been leaving my racket in the garage, so I didn’t have go in and out of the house with it, as it was too big to hide easily. And she’d evidently found it. Not just found it, but she was handing it to me?
“Wait, you know I’m playing today?”
She didn’t speak, just nodded.
“In the Championship?” I clarified.
She nodded again.
I looked at her suspiciously. “Then why haven’t you said anything?”
My mother chewed her nail, a total uncharacteristic action, and looked unsure for the first time ever.
“I know I haven’t been the best parent in the world in the past, but these last two years have taught me I should have a life of my own and not try to lead yours for you. It’s just... when your father left me, you were all I had, so I invested everything into you. You were my life, but that was wrong and...” she broke off, struggling to say the words, “and I’m sorry. It killed me when you left, and I don’t want to lose you again.”
I stood there dumbly, taking it in. She’d said sorry, and she’d never said that to anyone ever, so far as I knew.
“I appreciate it,” I said after a long pause. “But why didn’t you say anything if you knew I was playing tennis again and you were okay with it?”
“I didn’t want to jeopardise it. You’re so stubborn, we both are I guess, but you might have stopped playing to make a point and I wanted you to keep doing it.”
“So you could brag to all your friends?”
“No! For you. I wanted you to keep doing it for you. So I stayed out of the way. I won’t be there today, I don’t want to put you off, but I really wanted to wish you luck.” She looked as though she might hug me and then changed her mind, settling for an awkward pat on the arm.
“Oh.” I thought about it. “It’s okay with me if you’re there.”
~
THREE HOURS LATER, I was gripping Luke’s hand and listening to the announcer call us to the court. “Next up, we have our very own Luke Nevis, partnering with an unexpected and exciting entry, I’m delighted to welcome her back to where it all began for her eleven years ago... it’s Camille Doucette-Smith!”
Luke gave me a surprised glance and I gave an embarrassed lift of one shoulder, conceding it was true.
The stands were half empty as we made our way out, as most people were watching the men on court one. But that was fine, because I was as nervous as hell.
An hour later and our audience had trebled in size. Luke was right, we were cleaning up on points and hadn’t lost a single set so far.
Just the final match to play.
I saw my mother slip into the crowd, and within moments, she was networking with everyone around her. I tutted, because even though she’d been cool with this, she hadn’t changed all that much. But what did I care? She could press the flesh as much as she liked so long as it didn’t impact on me.
The pressure was on now, the best against the best, a couple who’d flown down from Edinburgh just to win this. They were in their mid-twenties and worked together with a slickness that spoke of years of partnership. Luke and I barely had more than a month. It wasn’t a sure thing anymore.
“You never miss,” Luke spoke into my ear, “leave the pressure shots to me and you concentrate on catching the long ones, okay? We play to our strengths.”
“You sure? You have more distance than me,” I whispered back.
“Yes, but you’re faster, we’ve got this.”
It was a fast paced, stressful match. We were both furious when we dropped a point, especially as we had no idea how things were stacked on the board of all players overall. But we were winning. Right up until the third set, when I ran backwards for a tricky long ball and stumbled. I yelped and Luke turned. I went down, but pointed furiously the other way as I did, and Luke turned back just in time to slam the ball down on the far side of the net, which meant we had a thirty-second respite. Luke ran to my side and helped me to hobble off. My ankle was useless.
“How bad?” He got straight to the point while uncapping me some water.
“Bad.” I pulled a face.
“Okay, so we need to go straight for a finale. I’ll do the work, you just have to stand there and look pretty, okay?”
I gave him an annoyed glare for the sexist comment.
“Fine, just stand there and look scary, exactly like that,” he corrected with a strained smile.
“Are you sure about this? I’m basically out of it now,” I said as he practically carried me back into position.
“It’s the beauty of doubles, Cami, you don’t have to do it alone. We’re a team, trust in me to get us there.”
“I love you,” I blurted, without meaning to.
Luke grinned and ruffled my hair, walking to his place without responding.
I couldn’t believe I'd just said that! I blamed the heightened tension of the moment and the fact that for the first time in forever, I felt like I had someone I could completely count on, whether we won this or not.
The next rally went past me in a blur. Luke was everywhere, like the Tasmanian devil as he raced back and forth and side to side. I was so incredibly proud of how good he was, and liked to think he’d got even better playing with me. But I felt useless. He allowed me to take one or two balls as they came close to me, making it seem as though I was still a contender, but it was all him. Just the final serve; it was match point, and Luke looked like he was taking no prisoners.
Then the unthinkable happened. The guy on the other side just slipped under it and lobbed it back. It sailed high, right over Luke’s head. I wasn’t going to get to it, it was too far...
I used my good ankle and threw myself bodily to my right. My arms were long, maybe, maybe, I felt like I was flying in slow motion. Yes! I just got the racket to the ball and returned it, then the world went back to normal speed as I crashed to the ground and pain shot through me. I crumpled, but I looked up, desperate to see if the return was good.
Instead I saw my mother, on her feet, with her hand clapped over her mouth. She wasn’t watching the ball, she didn’t care about the win, she was looking at me with concern all over her face.
Then Luke was lifting me into the air, yelling in delight. We had won. It was over.
“You stupid, amazing, crazy, stunning girl,” he crowed. “I love you so much.”
“You do?” I said, as he put me down.
“Well, duh! And not because of the tennis, I hope you know that. We still don’t know if we won the actual Championship, but I think we have a great shot. Come on, let’s get you some ice for that ankle.”
As we made our way off the court, my mum came running to meet us. She pulled up, looking awkward.
“Well done, Camille.”
“Thanks, Mum,” I hugged her, and she hugged me right back.
It was going to be okay now, whatever happened with the Championship.
~
WE DIDN’T GET IT.
~
AS AWFUL AS THAT SOUNDS, it was just the way it went. The male singles player cleaned up and beat us by a point. One lousy point.
Luke and I clapped in a sportsmanlike way, but we were gutted.
Yet, not so much as I thought. My relationship with Luke was on solid ground and my relationship with my mother had taken a huge turn for the better. I felt pretty good, all things considered.
“Luke, Luke!” A short man with red hair came running up and tapped him on the shoulder.
“Oh, hey. Cami this is Ross, my coach.”
He briefly shook hands with me and then turned back to Luke.
“I need you in the Club Room, ASAP, and Cami too.”
“What’s up?”
“Remember I told you I might have a surprise for you here today?”
Luke crumpled his brow, “Uh, maybe.”
“Well, she’s waiting in the Club Room.”
“She?”
“Just shift your backside, Luke. C’mon.”
“It had better not be one of your ex-girlfriends,” I whispered to him as we followed Ross up the Club Room.
“No idea.”
“Luke, Cami, I want to introduce you to Bailey Worthing; she works for the brand of shoes you’re wearing on your feet right now!” He chuckled to himself as the door swung wide to reveal a woman and three men. The woman was clearly in charge and looked sharp as a tack in her bottle-green suit, but the guys were lackeys who carried briefcases and looked drab next to her in their matching grey pinstripes.
“There they are, the main story,” she said, throwing open her arms as though presenting us to the world.
“Huh?” I managed, while Luke said, “Actually, we lost the Championship.”
“Tish, the Championship isn’t what matters, the point is, you two are the most interesting competitors and we’d be mad not to sponsor you.”
“Sponsor? You’re looking to give out a sponsorship?” Luke’s eyes lit up and I knew what he was thinking. This was the break he needed for his career. Then his expression changed to wary. “Just one of us?”
“No way. I can’t break up this dream team. Plus, people are going to be fascinated by your relationship; you’re both young and attractive, and you are a couple, aren’t you?”
“We are,” Luke confirmed.
“The girls are going to love you,” she said, striding over and examining Luke more closely, “I’ll get you on every teenager’s bedroom wall. So handsome, yet boyish, even their mamas are going to love you.”
I was starting to take objection to the way she was eyeing Luke like fresh meat.
“Okay,” I said, holding up a hand to stop her, “Luke is a great face for tennis, but I’m not. So, I’ll leave you to hash this out.”
“Camille, stay. You’re my headline!”
“I’m what?”
Bailey shot her hands out left and right in bursts as though mentally creating headlines.
“Camille Doucette-Smith makes a triumphant return to tennis - where has she been? - And who is the hot new talent on her arm?”
“Um... I’m not sure that’s going to be news,” I said, feeling scared at the idea of being the centre of attention again.
“No, not for long, but it will make them sit up and take notice. After that, we trade on your look.”
“My look? I know it’s not mainstream these days, but I’m not changing it.”
“Of course not! You’re going to be a major role model exactly as you are. In fact, I’m thinking of a whole new range to embrace it. Goth chic, with piping in midnight blue, we’ll trademark the colour of your hair. Plus let’s not forget you represent a minority group too. You’ll be an inspiration, tennis is a multicultural sport. You’ll make it cool, and every wall that doesn’t have Luke is going to have you. Girls will admire you, want to be you, and...” she paused to wink at me, “want your boyfriend.”
I looked at Luke. “What do you think about all this?”
“That depends, are you going to pay for us to go to the Wimbledon camp?” He gave Bailey a calculating look.
“Darlings, we’re talking serious sponsorship, big leagues stuff. You can pay for yourself to go and not feel it. But fine, I’ll throw that in if it swings the deal.”
Luke grabbed me by the waist and swung me round, whooping as he did so.
“This is it, Cami, everything I ever wanted, and it’s all thanks to you.”
I looked into his shining blue eyes and smiled. “I think I have everything I wanted too.” And I didn’t mean tennis—that was just the icing on my cake.
~
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