Topspin

by Soliman, W.

  “Christ, I thought that would never end!” He expelled a long sigh, propped his feet on an adjoining chair and grinned at her. He somehow managed to look disheveled, smoothly sophisticated, and ruggedly handsome all at the same time. Angela gulped, never having felt the pull of the attraction she felt toward him more. She looked away before he caught her staring. “Okay, sweetheart, give. You’ve had a face like thunder all morning and barely managed a civil word for anyone. What’s up?”

  “Why should anything be up? Aren’t I allowed to have an off day? How many times have you turned up with a hangover?”

  “Too many to recall, including today.” He grinned and ran a hand across his brow to emphasize his point. “But it’s not like you to be so down. Can I do anything to help?”

  Jack’s concern worked where flippancy had failed, and she found herself telling him all about Rod’s sudden reappearance and the mayhem it was causing in her life.

  “Ahh, I see. So the twins are glad to see their father, but you’re not.”

  “No. He promised to keep away and I don’t want him anywhere near them.”

  “Can I ask you why that is?”

  “No!”

  “Okay, okay.” Jack put up his hands as though preparing to ward off a physical attack. “So it’s none of my business.”

  “Sorry, Jack, but it’s still too sensitive.” She threw her head back and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I’m not comfortable talking about it, but I do have very good reasons for not wanting to see Rod.”

  “I’m sure you do. But now he’s foisted himself on you, and you can’t just throw him out on his ear because of Sheba.”

  “Exactly!” Angela raised her eyes to where Sheba and Chris were sitting huddled together on the opposite side of the room. Their heads were almost touching, and they seemed oblivious to everyone as they conversed in whispers. “He says that if he can’t see them while he’s here, then he’ll simply ask them who they’d prefer to live with.” She sighed and nodded toward her daughter. “And you don’t need to be a rocket scientist to work out who Sheba would choose.”

  “Not necessarily, she might—”

  “Trust me, Jack. It would be no contest. As far as she’s concerned, I’m the wicked witch that spoils all her fun. But her father can do no wrong.”

  “Can’t you try explaining to her why you two split? She’s old enough to understand.”

  Angela made an impolite noise at the back of her throat. “Not this she isn’t.”

  “It must be tough, being a parent, I mean,” Jack said pensively. “After all, kids don’t exactly come with an instruction manual, do they?”

  “Too right! Still, I reckon you’d have made a great father, Jack.”

  “Perhaps. I’d have liked to have the opportunity, but it’s too late for all that now.” He changed the subject so quickly that Angela wondered if she’d hit a raw nerve. “But anyway, going back to your husband, surely he can’t take the kids away from you, even if they want to go, without the consent of the courts?”

  Angela shifted uncomfortably. “Well, that’s just it, you see. We never went to court over it. I was in too much of a hurry to hang around and let social services stick their noses in. He and I fell out big time and I had to get away quickly, before he found a way to stop me. So I simply put the kids in the car and drove to Cowes before my courage failed me.”

  “Why Cowes?”

  “I had a friend here who I knew would put us up until I found a job and somewhere for us to live.” She studied her hands, folded primly in her lap. “Somehow I’ve never got round to moving on.”

  “And he didn’t try to get you back?”

  Angela’s expression closed down. “No.”

  Jack put his index finger beneath her chin and tilted it upward until she was forced to meet his eye. “But you still have feelings for him?”

  Angela sighed. “God help me, in spite of everything that’s happened between us, maybe a little.” She took a large gulp of her drink, her gaze distant and unfocused. “I thought I’d managed to kill them off when we first moved out. We had a tough time of it, living on handouts and the generosity of friends, and I kept reminding myself that it was all thanks to him that we were in that situation.”

  “But seeing him again has brought it all back.”

  “Yeah, big time.” Angela didn’t even attempt to explain Paul’s part in it all. If Jack even suspected what Paul really was, she’d be tainted by association and could kiss goodbye any hope of a relationship with him.

  “Is there anything I can do, love?”

  “Thanks. I’d love to invite you to punch his lights out.” Angela managed a brief smile. “But I don’t think that would go down too well with Sheba.” She expelled a long sigh. “I’ll just have to work something out with him that I can live with, I suppose.”

  “If Sheba’s in his company enough, then perhaps she’ll eventually see him for the louse he obviously is.”

  “Yeah, possibly.” But Angela wasn’t convinced. “I’ve seen him a few times since his arrival but have managed to keep him at arm’s length. So far,” she added, thinking of Rod’s growing frustration because she couldn’t decide whether or not to see Paul. Apparently he was running out of patience and God only knew where that would lead.

  “Perhaps you could—”

  “Hi, guys.” Joe approached, his arm around Claire’s waist. “Not interrupting anything, are we?”

  “Would it make any difference if you were?” Jack asked, winking at Angela.

  Claire’s attention appeared to be taken up by Chris and Sheba, still huddled together across the room. She waved to her son rather hesitantly. When he beamed and waved back, a broad smile spread across her face.

  “Have you checked your e-mail this morning, either of you?” Joe asked.

  “Haven’t had time yet,” Jack said. “I came here straight from Ryde.” Angela shook her head as well.

  “Look at this, then.” Joe pulled a printout from his pocket.

  “Fucking hell!” Jack spoke so loudly that even Chris and Sheba broke off their conversation and looked at him. “Bloody Ed has called an EGM before the club dinner on Friday night, claiming that rule seven, sub-paragraph iii—whatever the hell that is—has been transgressed by the committee. He says they’ve overstepped their authority, are therefore incompetent, and the chairman should resign.”

  “Does he say what they’re supposed to have done?” Angela asked.

  “Nope.”

  “Then how did he manage to call the EGM, without any evidence?”

  “That’s what we’ve been trying to figure out,” Joe said. “He rang me the other day, rambling on about it being time for change, but I basically told him to get lost.”

  “He must have amassed quite a bit of support to pull a stunt like this, though,” Claire said. “I can’t imagine him risking his hand unless he thinks he’s got a good chance of winning.”

  “He’s got his support.” Jack clenched his teeth so tightly that his jaw protested. “Wonder coach, Mr. Palmer, who’s only here thanks to Trina, has seconded Ed’s motion to get rid of her.”

  Chapter Six

  FROM HIS VANTAGE POINT at the bar Jack watched the members milling about, talking in furtive whispers as they waited for the hastily convened EGM to start. The atmosphere was tense, certain factions trying a little too hard to project an air of indifference. Others pretended outrage, but Jack knew they’d take vicarious pleasure in witnessing the downfall of the woman who’d done so much to make the club the force that it was today. He sipped at his drink, not saying much but missing little.

  Trina’s ebullient personality and tendency to treat everyone as though they were unruly kids had always rubbed Jack the wrong way. But watching her now, shoulders already hunched in an attitude of defeat, he was surprised at her willingness to capitulate so easily. The Trina of old would have been spitting expletives, ready to fight from her corner and deal briskly with the troublemakers. Porchfield
was Trina’s raison d’être. If Jack had any say in the matter, that situation wasn’t about to change any time soon.

  He purchased her a large glass of wine and joined her.

  “You look like you could use this,” he said, handing the drink to her.

  “Dutch courage, you mean?” A spark of defiance briefly flared in her eyes but failed to ignite. “You’re probably right about that.”

  “Don’t let the little shit bother you, love. He’s got no case.”

  “You think not?” Trina shrugged. “If he wants to take over the club badly enough I dare say he can invent one, and frankly I’m not sure I’ve got the will to fight him. It’s not an easy task running a place like this, you know, but it is a thankless one.”

  “It’s not as if you get paid for it either.”

  “Yes, well. My methods may not always make me popular, but that’s just the way I am. I’m too old to change now.”

  “You do okay.”

  “Do I?” She quirked a brow. “Not judging by the attitude of this lot. I’ve known some of them for years, but they suddenly don’t have the courage to look me in the eye.”

  “That’s because they’re cowards.” Jack cast a scathing glance over Trina’s detractors. “This meeting is all about Ed flexing his puny muscles. You know what people can be like. There’s nothing they like more than a bit of drama, something to gossip about and liven up their dreary lives.”

  “Perhaps, but if so many people agree with him I’m tempted to let them have a shot at running the show.”

  “Is that what you really want?”

  “No, but I’m too angry to fight if I’m not wanted anymore.”

  “You’d be surprised at how much support you actually have, Trina.”

  “Yours, obviously, which I’ll admit comes as a surprise. You and I have never really seen eye to eye, Jack.”

  “Maybe not, but I know what you put into this club, even if I don’t always give the impression of appreciating it. Besides, I don’t like the way that two-faced bastard Palmer has turned on you.”

  “Rumor has it that you knew him before he came here.”

  “Yeah, we have a history. So it doesn’t surprise me that he’s already trying to bite the hand that fed him.”

  “We were lucky to get him. He’s far too well-qualified for this club, so I suppose he can do as he likes.”

  “Trust me, love, he wouldn’t have come to us unless it suited his purposes. Palmer only ever thinks of number one.”

  “That sounds intriguing.”

  “If you’d asked me about him beforehand, I’d have recommended giving him a wide berth. But leaving Palmer aside, I couldn’t stay at this club if Ed takes over. And that goes for a lot of us.” He flashed an encouraging smile. “We’re a family, in our own way. Warts and all. We’ve got used to each other, and I don’t want to see us broken up.”

  “How are you going to stop him, then?” Her eyes betrayed wary signs of interest.

  Jack winked at her. “He’s blowing hot air, trying to cite nebulous one-offs to turn the members against you. But, trust me, it ain’t gonna happen. You just get yourself up there and try to look bored. That’ll get Ed wondering what he’s overlooked.”

  “What has he overlooked?”

  Jack chuckled. “Have faith!”

  “You know Jack when he gets a bee in his bonnet about something,” Joe said as he and Claire joined them. “I wouldn’t like to be in Ed’s shoes in a little while.”

  People were drifting toward the seats that had been placed in rows. Trina bustled off to the platform along with the rest of the committee, now looking completely in control as she bestowed patronizing smiles upon everyone she passed.

  “Attagirl!” Jack said, aware of some members exchanging bemused glances.

  Angela and Jodie breezed in, closely followed by Karl.

  “You look lovely,” Claire said to Angela, swiftly running her eyes over her friend’s slinky green close-fitting dress. “Why such a glum face?”

  “The twins, that’s to say Sheba, have invited their father to the dinner tonight.”

  “Oh, yes.” Claire was unable to disguise her interest. Speculation about the reason for the sudden appearance of Angela’s mysterious husband had been rife, but all attempts to talk about him to Angela had been stonewalled. “Chris said something about it the other day, I think. He’s all fired up because he’s bringing Sheba.” Claire grimaced. “God, where have the years gone? My little boy dating. It makes me feel positively ancient.”

  “Tell me about it.” Angela rolled her eyes.

  “Well, anyway,” Claire said, “we’re all looking forward to meeting this husband of yours. What does he do for a living?”

  “He makes a career out of bugging me.”

  “Don’t get twisted out of shape,” Jack said in an undertone as Angela took the seat next to his. “What’s the worst that can happen?”

  “If you knew Rod then you wouldn’t ask such a bloody stupid question. Sorry,” she added quickly, “but he brings out the worst in me.”

  “Well, don’t think about that now. We’ve got other fish to fry.” He nodded toward Ed who, swollen with self-importance, was attempting to call the meeting to order.

  “Look at him,” Joe said with disgust. “He’s like a tomcat who’s about to get his end away.”

  “Let him enjoy his moment in the spotlight,” Jack said calmly.

  “Ahemv, good evening, ladies and gentleman. If I could have your attention, please.” Ed tapped his glass with a pencil and an unnatural hush fell over the room.

  Jack took the opportunity to examine the faces of the people flanking Ed. Stella, sliding lower and lower in her chair, looked stricken. Mike and Millie were both staring at Ed with rapt expressions. Colin studied a sheaf of notes on his lap and didn’t once look up. The rest of Ed’s supporters were gathered together in the body of the hall. There were a few familiar faces that Jack was disappointed to see among them.

  He turned his eyes upon Ed himself, his unwavering stare taking on the hard shine that had intimidated more than one of his rivals during his years in the East End. Ed quickly became aware of it, looked in Jack’s direction and just as quickly averted his eyes. He was nervous, Jack concluded with satisfaction. And so he bloody should be, causing such a ruckus to satisfy some self-serving ambition that Jack couldn’t begin to pin down.

  “It’s good to see such a big turnout.” Ed spoke with a grandiose sweep of his arm and knocked the papers that he’d balanced in front of him to the floor. Jack and Joe exchanged a wry glance as Ed and Millie scrabbled to pick them up, clashing heads with a loud thwack.

  “While you’re down there, love,” someone shouted, to the accompaniment of raucous laughter.

  Stella looked as though she’d been turned to stone. She was staring straight ahead and didn’t even look to see what all the commotion was about, much less offer to help.

  “Right, sorry about that,” Ed said, red-faced. “Anyway, as I was saying, it’s good to see so many of you here this evening. It’s a clear indication of just how much the club means to us all.” He paused, his voice wavering, perhaps because he was conscious of Jack’s eyes still holding him in a death-watch glare. “Ahem, excuse me.” He cleared his throat noisily.

  “Get on with it!” shouted someone from the back. “The bar’s open.” The general laughter caused Ed to bridle.

  “Yes, quite so. I don’t intend to keep you here long. But before we get to the reason for calling this meeting, I’d just like to say that there’s nothing personal in all this.” He turned toward Trina with a smile that didn’t trouble his eyes. “We all know how much time and effort Trina has put into running the club and I, for one, would like to express my appreciation for her hard work.”

  Trina’s imperious glare had enough venom behind it to make Ed cringe. Jack caught her eye and winked at her.

  “But?” contributed the same back-seat heckler.

  “Yes indeed. You al
l know how the tennis scene on the Island has changed over the past few years. Porchfield was once unbeatable, but nowadays we have two rivals, both of whom appear to be attracting a better standard of players.”

  “So what?” shouted someone else. “We can only take new members when there’s a vacancy. And the main committee don’t look too hard at tennis standards when they consider the applications. If it’s playing ability you’re worried about, it’s a question for them. We can’t do anything about it.”

  There was a general rumble of agreement across the room. Heads nodded approvingly.

  “Perhaps some of the better players who’ve gone elsewhere can’t afford the extortionate buy-in fee here,” Karl said. “We all know that, so why call an EGM?”

  “If you’d just give me a chance to explain.” Ed waved his sheaf of rescued papers and waited for the mumblings in the body of the room to die down. “We believe that the reason we’re missing out on recruiting better players is down to our selection process. Yes, the main committee are interested in standards that have little to do with playing ability, and rightly so, but we do have some input. Rule Seven of our constitution stipulates that new members have to play a trial game with one of the membership committee.”

  “And they do,” Karl said.

  “Indeed, but sub-paragraph iii stipulates clearly that the membership committee should consist of players of a suitable standard to play against prospective members and assess their ability. We don’t want to be frightening away better quality players by taking on too many beginners. And therein, ladies and gentlemen, lies the rub.”

  “Who the hell does he think he is?” Jack muttered to Joe. “Fucking Shakespeare?”

  “With all due respect to Lawrence and Rosie, who take on the job of assessing new players, we feel they’re no longer fit for that purpose and are preventing Porchfield from attracting the pick of the crop as a result. This in turn is affecting our standing in the local league. If we’re to move forward as a modern, competitive club, then we need to address this problem.”