Love Game - Season 2012

by Gerard, M. B.

  She looked up to greet the visitor but almost choked on her nutrition bar.

  “Hey,” Gabriella breathed. Impossible to say more at the sight of Sasha Mrachova who looked immaculate as ever. Had she just played a Grand Slam final? It was hard to believe.

  Sasha didn’t say anything. She just nodded.

  Gabriella swallowed hard. Was this the right moment? Should she confess right now, or perhaps wait until later? Sasha’s silence made her nervous.

  “Good match,” Gabriella said, even though they had assessed that already when shaking hands at the end of the match.

  “Yes, it was,” Sasha said finally. She didn’t seem convinced. Sasha’s disheartenment made the twin miserable. She should go over to Sasha and kiss her. Yes, that was maybe even better than trying to find words. A kiss could say it all. But before she could make a move forward, Sasha had opened her mouth again.

  “Congratulations on defending your title,” Sasha said slowly. Gabriella smiled. How sweet was that?

  “Thank you,” she whispered. But then she stopped. Stopped breathing, stopped smiling. Title defense? How could Sasha know, that is was her who had won the Wimbledon title last year? But it was too late now.

  She had just admitted that she had won twice.

  “You know that I played for Lulu?” she asked.

  Sasha smirked. “Please stop pretending, Gabriella! You for sure remember when we were standing here last year and I told you that I knew your secret.”

  Gabriella blinked. So, Sasha never thought Lulu was gay but had been referring to the twins’ match swapping? But this could only mean that Sasha knew another detail of Gabriella’s life.

  “So, you know it was me who – ,” she swallowed her last words, seeing Sasha’s stone face.

  “Who lied to me? Who pretended to be someone else? Who deceived me for months and months, night after night?” Sasha finished Gabriella’s sentence. “Yes, I know that.”

  “Sasha,” Gabriella began, holding out her hand.

  “Please stop this,” Sasha interrupted her. “You can stop being a liar now. Enjoy your win. You earned it well.” She turned around and vanished through the door.

  Liar. The word echoed through the empty locker room. Gabriella sank onto the bench and looked into her hands.

  She was a Top 10 tennis player. She was a Grand Slam champion. And she was a liar. There was no girl who loved her back. Within two minutes her life had taken a very wrong turn. And there was no one else to blame than herself.

  FOR WHOM

  THE BELL TOLLS

  London, Great Britain

  “Only three weeks and it looks like we are on a different planet altogether,” Samantha Watts remarked.

  She and Paola stood on the rooftop of the Wimbledon media centre and looked across the familiar place. But the Olympic tennis tournament had given the All England Lawn and Croquet Club a different face – a very pinkish face.

  Instead of the traditional green side fences and barricades the Olympic colors had taken over and purple, pink and lilac fences framed the courts. Also, instead of the canonical white dresses the players were obliged to wear during the Wimbledon Championship, the participants were now wearing clothes that matched the colors of their country’s flag.

  Olympic Wimbledon looked like a rag rug.

  “The grass is still green,” Paola remarked laconically.

  “Not so much,” Sam replied straight away.

  In fact, she had talked to Mr. Wilson earlier this morning and the groundskeeper admitted that they had had trouble restoring the grass in time after the Championships.

  “All the grass court players seem to have trouble,” Paola nodded. “Shame that the Wimbledon finalists are already out of the tournament.”

  Gabriella Galloway had crashed out of the Olympic Games with a devastating straight set loss to Greek player Sophia Thrassa.

  “Sasha looked particularly clumsy yesterday,” Sam shook her head in amazement as she recalled the Czech’s third round match. “She was moving like an elephant.”

  Paola turned away from the view and looked at her friend. A thought had sneaked into her mind.

  “Oh my,” she whispered. “Could it be that she is pregnant?”

  Sam gasped. “Well, that would explain the weird timing for the wedding, right?”

  Paola nodded excitedly. “I thought they had to be mad to schedule it in the middle of the Olympic competition. But whenever she is asked about it she harps on about her privacy. In her last interview I was about to tell her that if she wanted a private wedding she should have scheduled it in the off-season in Alaska.”

  They turned back to the tournament and looked over at Court 18 where a doubles match was in full swing. The Canadian team, Polly and Bernadette, was taking on the Russians, Ivana and Tamara.

  “Match points,” Paola exclaimed. She pointed down at the court. Polly gave Bernadette a low-five and sprinted to the baseline. Sam checked the score. The Canadian team had a 6-3 5-4 lead over the Russians, and the score in this game was now 40-15.

  With a pin-point ace on the T-line Polly secured her team the win.

  They watched the handshake and the short celebration of the Canadian team who were cheered by a delegation of Canuck fans.

  “Semifinal against Michelle and Marieke. Should be a good one,” Sam said. “Yes, well done,” Paola cheered. “Great to see Polly doing so well. She had a hard time in the beginning of the year.”

  “Her mother was sick, wasn’t she?”

  Paola nodded. “She doesn’t like to talk about it but her mom has a heart condition. They hope for a transplant, but you know how hard it is to find matching donors.”

  ***

  “Ready?”

  Gabriella nodded and lifted her bag into the trunk of the waiting cab. Monica picked up her second bag and handed it to her.

  “Don’t be upset,” the older player said, patting Gabriella’s shoulder.

  The American doubles team had lost their match the other day. Gabriella had also lost her singles match. The Olympic tournament was over for them and they had decided that it would be best to leave as soon as possible to get ready for the U.S. hard court season.

  Gabriella sat in the back seat and Monica ordered the driver to the airport.

  While the English landscape was passing by, Gabriella looked out of the window. The week everybody had been looking forward to had turned out to be a dreadful time. She simply couldn’t concentrate on the tennis with the possibility of running into Sasha. And then what? Run after her? Talk to her? Tell her how she felt? That she was sorry? How to explain the deception?

  But she didn’t meet Sasha. The Czech avoided her at all costs. The twin didn’t see her in the locker room, nor in the players’ lounge. Instead of getting the chance to talk to Sasha, she had to endure the endless gossip about Sasha’s upcoming wedding.

  “What’s going on?” Monica’s startled voice woke her up from her daydreaming. She turned around.

  “What?”

  “You are crying,” Monica replied, touching Gabriella’s shoulders.

  Gabriella shook her head, but there was no denying that tears were streaming out of her eyes.

  “Is it the tennis?” Monica asked. “Or is it something else?”

  Gabriella looked at the older player she had learned to trust in the last couple of months. Should she tell her about Sasha? About the charade she had played on the Czech and the price she was paying now?

  “Yeah,” she mumbled finally. “Something else.”

  Monica tapped her heart. “This?”

  “Yes. I fucked up. I fell in love with – ,” she hesitated. She looked at the cab driver then lowered her head. “You know I told you about it.”

  Monica nodded.

  “Well, it’s Sasha,” Gabriella mumbled. “I’m in love with Sasha. But she thought I was Luella. She didn’t take it too well when she found out that I lied to her.”

  The older player raised her eyebrows. Yes, i
t was hard to grasp, Gabriella had to admit.

  “You made her believe you were Lulu?”

  Gabriella sighed. She had spent many sleepless nights attempting to find an answer to this question.

  “I thought I had a better chance,” she mumbled. “Everybody is hot for Lulu. It’s always Lulu. I just wanted a piece of the pie.”

  The last word made her think of the wedding cake that was probably prepared at this very moment. Sasha had told her that she had ordered some Czech cakes and that the wedding planners had had no idea where to get them. They had shared a good laugh over Mr. Clutterbuck and Ms. Hardwood.

  “Oh, Gabriella,” Monica put her arm around her.

  “I screwed up so badly,” Gabriella sobbed. “The worst thing is that I believe Sasha also fell in love with me, but now she is terribly hurt and we will never be together.”

  The cab was cruising along the motorway, taking her further and further away from Sasha.

  “Never say never,” Monica suddenly said.

  She tapped the driver on the shoulder.

  “Take the next exit and turn around. This young lady is going back!”

  ***

  “It’s not going to get any better by you staring at us,” Amanda mumbled.

  She, Elise and Natsumi had found a place in a coffee shop in Wimbledon Village. Neither had touched their drinks yet.

  “This is a disaster,” Natsumi said with a strained voice. “You have no idea how terrible this is.”

  Amanda sighed impatiently. “Well, then why don’t you let us in? I think we deserve to know what this was all about.”

  Natsumi finally took a sip of her coffee, then shook her head.

  “No, better you don’t know.”

  “Really, Natsumi?” Amanda hissed. “You let us carry your big prick around the world, you keep us from sending that thing via mail and then you’re surprised that it gets lost on the way?”

  “I didn’t tell you to open a sealed box. I didn’t tell you to throw away the box.” Natsumi snapped back.

  “Please, don’t fight,” Elise interrupted them. She turned to Natsumi. “We had to get rid of the box. It was moldy.”

  “Moldy?” Natsumi shook her head. “What did you do with it?”

  Elise looked down into her cup.

  “I’m so sorry, Natsumi,” she whispered. “I thought it was a good idea to hide the box in a fish tank.”

  Seeing Elise so crestfallen, Amanda’s heart tightened. This wasn’t their fault, certainly not Elise’s. She shot Natsumi an angry stare and put her arm around Elise’s shoulders.

  “It actually was a brilliant idea,” she stated, turning to Natsumi. “Can you imagine the embarrassment if Elise’s parents had found out that we were traveling with a big wooden cock?”

  She poured some sugar into her coffee.

  “Elise came up with some wonderful ideas to hide your stupid dildo,” Amanda continued. “And you have nothing better to do than to bash us for trying to make the best of this bumfuckery.”

  Natsumi fell silent. Amanda’s rant had surely brought her back down to earth.

  “I’m sorry,” Natsumi finally said. “I shouldn’t have burdened you with this task. It’s just that I didn’t know anybody else to ask.”

  “It sounds like the thing is very important to you,” Elise wondered.

  Natsumi hesitated. “Not for me actually. For a friend,” she admitted. “I promised to get the box to Brighton but then I got injured. I’m sorry I couldn’t let you in on the details. It’s really too complicated a story.”

  “Not even now?” Amanda asked. “We might be able to help you if we knew what this is about.”

  But Natsumi shook her head. “No, you can’t help. And the less you know the better.”

  This was frightening, Amanda thought. Natsumi usually wasn’t shy of speaking about what was going on in her life. She never seemed able to keep secrets. A scene from the latest Tennis Nurse novel crossed Amanda’s mind.

  She grabbed Natsumi’s hand and leaned forward. “You’re not having trouble with the Japanese mafia, are you? This pecker wasn’t some sort of Yakuza ritual phallus, right?”

  For a short moment Natsumi stared at Amanda – flabbergasted. Then she began giggling.

  “No,” she snorted. “It’s bad, but it’s not that bad.”

  For five minutes she couldn’t stop laughing. Eventually, Elise and Amanda, too were chuckling over the absurdity of their woodpecker quest.

  “So, what are we going to do now?” Amanda said finally. Their laughing fit had filled them with new enthusiasm for finding a solution.

  “When did you see it for the last time?” Natsumi asked. “Please try to remember the exact circumstances.”

  “We went down to the practice courts and Angus saw the racquet we had attached the mara to, and he played a bit with it. Then he leaned it against the fence and we forgot about it. When we wanted to pack our bags it was gone.”

  “Was there anyone else at the practice courts?”

  Elise shook her head. “Just Polly,” she smiled. “But she was busy hitting balls. She made it to the final in doubles and was practicing with Bernadette.”

  Natsumi gasped. “Bernadette? Bernadette LeBlanc?”

  “Yes,” Elise frowned. “They’ve been playing doubles for half a year now.”

  “I must have missed that,” Natsumi mumbled. She was deep in thought, shaking her head slowly. “I don’t understand how she could have possibly found out,” she said to herself.

  “Found out about what?” Amanda asked.

  Natsumi looked up. “That the box was to be delivered to Brighton. And about its content.”

  “You believe she wanted to steal the woodpecker? Why? Is it very expensive?” Elise asked excitedly. Natsumi nodded.

  “How much are we talking about?” Amanda wanted to know.

  Natsumi looked at them. “1.3 million dollars.”

  ***

  “Nervous?”

  Sasha snorted. “Me? Never.”

  Why was the wedding such a big thing, Sasha wondered. Everybody asked her about it and yet she wasn’t even changing her name, nor would she take time off from the tennis.

  The plan had been to lure Anastasia away from her hotel room so Ted and Tom could take a look at her laptop. But when the chair umpire had entered the restaurant Sasha immediately saw that she was carrying her laptop bag, as she had come straight from the tournament. For a moment Sasha considered leaving the guys uninformed. The thought of them rummaging through Anastasia’s room was too good. However, she finally sent a short text to keep them from roping down the roof to Anastasia’s hotel room window.

  There was still Plan B, and even though she had protested vehemently, after two glasses of wine she began to get fond of the idea of spending a night with Anastasia. Yes, why not? At least with Anastasia she knew that what you saw was what you got. The thought of Gabriella made her livid. For a short moment Sasha almost pounded her glass to pieces. Then she asked Anastasia if she could come over.

  “Naturally,” the umpire had answered.

  Now she and Anastasia were leaving the French restaurant after gorging on a delicious five course food spree.

  “People speculate that the timing of the wedding suggests that you want to get it over and done with as soon as possible. In the midst of the Olympic Games does seem a bit odd, you have to admit. You are not pregnant, are you?” Anastasia asked while holding the door for Sasha.

  “What?” If she had still been drinking her wine, Sasha would have choked badly. Of course, they had to get through the wedding gossip first. While driving to Anastasia’s hotel she quickly clarified any nonsense the rumor mill had made of her wedding schedule.

  “Will you watch the final?” Anastasia asked when they entered her tidy hotel room. Tamara and Marieke would battle for the gold medal in the singles competition.

  “No, my family arrives tomorrow. Jaro’s parents, too,” Sasha sighed. “We have to first check them
first into the hotel, then take them out for dinner and entertain them along. It will be horrible.”

  For the last five years, during Wimbledon Sasha rented a house in the heart of the village. It was so close to the AELTC that she could walk to the tournament site. However, for the Olympic Games she had decided to reside in a hotel closer to the city. She wasn’t keen on any reminder of the nights she had spent in Wimbledon with Gabriella, and the hotel would also host the wedding guests who arrived a bit earlier.

  Anastasia had undressed and slipped under the covers, waiting for Sasha to take off her summer dress.

  “Your parents know that this is a marriage of convenience, do they?” Anastasia asked.

  Sasha nodded while she joined Anastasia in bed. “Of course. They all know but Jaro’s grandmother. I will have to brief everyone – especially my little nieces – to keep their mouths shut.”

  Anastasia laughed and put an arm around Sasha. The touch of Anastasia’s warm skin almost numbed Sasha. She pulled the umpire closer and began kissing her.

  Then she remembered something. The mission, as Ted had called it.

  Damn, Sasha thought. She opened her eyes and took a quick look around the room. Anastasia had placed the laptop bag on the table which was standing near the window. Sasha exhaled in relief. Even if she had opened the door for the guys as arranged, it would have been hard for them to crawl over the floor, snatch the laptop, creep back to the door and do it all again after they had hacked Anastasia’s computer. Yes, she could try and engage the umpire in some very demanding sexual activity, so that Anastasia would be distracted, but the thought of them being seen by two men would surely cause Sasha to giggle in the wrong moment – and Anastasia would look up and spot Ted and Tom.