Strawberries at Wimbledon (A Short Story)

by Nikki Moore

  'Hey. You okay?' A gentle finger lifted her chin, pale eyes gazing into hers.

  'Yes.' She smiled too brightly, casually moving her head away. 'Fine, thanks. Hot and looking forward to that drink.'

  ‘Fair enough. As long as you’re sure.’

  ‘I am. What could possibly be wrong?’ she replied lightly, knowing it was a dangerous question.

  Luckily Adam chose not to reply, stepping back out of her way so she could pay the barman. After they’d loaded up with the drinks in plastic cups, they headed back towards Henman Hill, where Flynn and Lily had relocated their stuff.

  'Lovely day.' Rayne mumbled as they walked through the streaming crowds, matching footsteps. He was six foot two but she was tall, over five foot ten with a long stride. She sighed, mentally kicking herself. How inane could you get, talking about the weather?

  'It is.' He stopped, giving her a cheeky look, eyes twinkling. ‘I've been thinking.’

  Uh-oh. It was an expression she'd learnt to recognise after they'd moved into a shared student flat together in their second year. He used it when he was up to something. But on the older Adam, who had those ridiculously broad shoulders, dark, delicious-looking stubble and crinkles around his eyes, it was no longer cute.

  It was overwhelmingly sexy.

  'Yes?' she croaked, halting next to him. The Pimms sloshed over the rim of the cup, sprigs of mint and pieces of strawberry, orange and cucumber knocking together. Bringing her hand up, she licked her sticky fingers.

  He watched, eyes darkening. ‘I could do you a favour.’

  ‘Oh, yeah?’

  ‘Are you coming tomorrow? Do you have tickets?’

  ‘I wasn’t planning to. We were in the queue overnight to get tickets for today and I have loads of work on at the moment so was only allowed to take the one day off. My editor’s riding me for three stories I’m working on and I’m pitching another to her in two days’ time. Why?’ she cocked her head.

  ‘I have some VIP tickets, and can get you in tomorrow.’ He sipped his beer, foam coating his top lip.

  It made her want to wipe it off. Or lick it off. A familiar tingle started in her belly and between her thighs. Her hands tightened around the plastic cups and more Pimms spilt over the side.

  ‘Hey, careful with that,’ he joked, stepping back out of the danger zone.

  ‘Why would you offer me tickets for tomorrow?’ she quizzed, trying to work out his plan, now oblivious of the noisy press of people shuffling around them.

  ‘I could get you interviews with some of the players if you wanted me to.’

  ‘You could?’ Excitement pitched her voice high and she stepped towards him. ‘That would be amazing! I could definitely clear the day to do that. How?’

  He smiled softly. ‘Through a mixture of family connections, Parsons being one of the Wimbledon sponsors, my marketing expertise and calling in a few favours. Interested?’

  ‘Of course I bloody am! Marketing expertise? What do you mean? Did you get into it in the end then? I thought you’d been abroad doing charity work?’ She flushed. Balls, now he’d know she’d been keeping tabs on him. ‘I mean…’ she trailed off, ‘I remember how interested you were in the marketing stuff when I was doing the related modules for my degree. You kept nicking my course books.’

  ‘Guilty.’ He studied her face as he admitted, ‘I’m involved in running Parsons now. But instead of heading it up like Mum wanted me to, I do the national marketing.’

  ‘You do?’ She couldn’t have been more surprised than if he’d turned up in whites and blithely announced he was going to be a contender at Wimbledon. ‘How the hell did that end up happening?’

  ‘It was part of the deal. I’m involved with the family business, but doing something that I like rather than having to run the whole thing and getting bogged down in the financials.’ Despite his reticence of a few minutes before, he now seemed at ease talking about it, maybe because they weren’t stood in a queue of people. ‘And when Mum and Richard want to retire, his son Rafe will take over. Bel works for Parsons too, just doing admin at the moment, but she’s learning quickly.’

  She shook her head disbelievingly. ‘Belinda is working with your mum? Your sister was always so…’

  ‘Rebellious? Spoilt? Lazy?’

  Rayne smiled at his matter of fact delivery. ‘Well, I admit she could be difficult, but it’s just how much she seemed to dislike your mum, and the idea of Parsons. Almost as much as you did. It’s a huge turnaround.’

  ‘She’s changed.’ Adam nodded. ‘I have too. Yes, I used to dread the idea of Parsons, but I’m actually enjoying it. Besides, I haven’t decided if it’s temporary or permanent yet. I’ll have to see what happens.’

  ‘You’re enjoying it because it’s on your terms,’ she breathed, worried by the flutter of disappointment she felt that he might not be staying. ‘Well, good for you.’ She rallied, ‘So, you’re back home?’ He’d always hated the family house, saying he’d felt suffocated there, despite the rolling open fields and fresh air. She’d always thought that it was more about the people than the house.

  ‘No. I live in Islington. I don’t need to be in Buckinghamshire to do the job. Email and conference calls more than work. I have a home office, and can step out the door any time I want to hear the traffic or see friends.’

  ‘Wow,’ she whistled, ‘Islington. Nice. Doesn’t your mum mind? She always preferred you close.’

  ‘It’s true she only originally agreed to uni in the Midlands because Loughborough was one of the best,’ he acknowledged, ‘and was very clear that I was expected to come home afterwards. But lately she’s accepted that London is where I’ve chosen to be.’

  ‘She has?’

  ‘Yes, on the basis that it’s better than halfway across the world.’

  Rayne laughed, starting to walk again. ‘You were always a good strategic thinker, Adam.’ She shook her head as he meandered beside her. ‘I’m glad it’s worked out for you.’

  ‘Speaking of which, we’ve strayed off court a bit. This is about something working out for you. Shall I set those interviews up? We can meet outside St. Mary’s Gate at eight tomorrow morning.’

  ‘If you’re sure you can manage it, that would be really brilliant, but why are you doing this? Especially after the way we broke up. Do-’ she looked at him out of the corner of her eye, took a breath and blurted, ‘are you after something in return?’

  He stopped dead, looking exasperated. ‘I hope that mind of yours isn’t going down seedy little avenues. I told you, I’m not bitter about the break up. We’re fine.’ But his lips looked pale at the edges, like they used to when he argued with his mum. ‘And, I don’t want anything from you, other than you agreeing to have lunch with me tomorrow so we can do some more catching up. But you don’t have to feel obliged. It’s only if you want to. If you don’t, that’s cool,’ he took a sip of his beer, the condensation dripping off the bottom of the cup in the fierce late afternoon sunshine, ‘and you can just owe me a professional favour. Maybe you could ask your editor to do a spread on Parsons, or at least interview Mum?’

  She stared at him, narrowing her eyes at his easy, sincere expression. Interviews with some players would be a massive boost to her career; they could even make the front or back page if juicy or interesting enough. Plus, one little lunch with Adam couldn’t hurt, could it? It was a no-brainer. ‘No problem. Oh my god, this is incredible. Thank you so much.’ She skipped ahead, and then twirled around to face him, nearly causing the man strolling up behind her to drop his drinks. ‘Lunch sounds good and I’m happy to talk to the lifestyle editor about Parsons too. I’m sure they’ll be thrilled to do something, given how well known the brand is. Can you get Lily entry for tomorrow too? We work for the same paper. She could do the photos.’

  ‘Sure. You look like a kid at Christmas,’ he ribbed, ‘all flushed cheeks and wide, eager eyes. Come on, we should get the drinks back to Lily and Flynn before you spill them all and we have to go back t
o the bar.’

  Rayne looked down at the cups, then at Adam. The mention of Christmas made her think of their first one together, of the tense atmosphere at his mum’s and how closed off he’d become, a different boy than the one she’d started to fall in love with. She remembered how keen he was to get back to halls, how they’d secluded themselves away in her room together, away from the world. The breach with her grandparents hadn’t been healed at that point, so there’d been nowhere else they had to be. Eating and drinking, watching DVD’s and having sweaty, astounding sex, they’d barely left her bed for a week. It had probably been the best seven days of her life.

  Something sharp clenched in her chest and she gulped. 'Okay.' She started walking again, suddenly eager to rejoin Lily and get away from being alone with her ex.

  Except when she got back to Lily and Flynn, who were sitting on the crowded grassy hill filled with spectators lolling in the sunshine, they were huddled together on the picnic blanket looking cosy. The look her friend threw her said, please don't make me leave too quickly.

  'I guess you're stuck with me a bit longer,' Adam said, sinking down on the grass and handing Flynn his beer.

  'Here you go.' Rayne sank down next to him and passed Lily's drink over, smiling in amusement despite her discomfort. She really could have done with some space from Adam, needing time to settle herself.

  'Thank you.' Lily's cheeks pinkened at the look Rayne was giving her. 'Oh, don't forget-'

  'The gin.' Rooting around in the picnic bag, Rayne produced two miniatures and poured one into each of their drinks.

  'Steady girls.' Flynn laughed. 'Daytime drinking in the sun and all that.'

  ‘Believe me Flynn, you don’t have to worry,’ Adam stated, ‘these two can really handle their drink.’

  ‘Oi!’ Rayne smacked his bicep lightly.

  ‘Ow!' He clutched his arm, pulling a wounded face.

  She rolled her eyes and shook her head.

  'We don't usually drink in the day,' Lily said solemnly, looking innocent. 'We're too busy working. But we promised ourselves a free pass today. And you've got to have a shot of gin in Pimms.' She smiled. 'It's a classic. Here, try a bit.' Offering the drink to Flynn, she pursed her lips and watched him take a sip, fluttering her blonde eyelashes.

  Rayne groaned and this time it was Adam who rolled his eyes. 'She hasn't changed much, has she?' he whispered in her ear, his bare hair-roughened knee brushing hers in the black deck shorts he wore.

  She shivered. 'No. Still a heartbreaker.'

  He muttered something that sounded suspiciously like her not being the only one, but when she asked him to repeat himself, he instead plunged into telling Flynn a funny story about a house party he, Rayne and Lily had gone to at uni that ended with a rubber blow-up sheep and a supermarket trolley.

  A while later, as the drinks started running out, he leaned closer. ‘By the way, I’m single,’ he murmured. ‘Just in case you were wondering.’ Echoing the words he’d used when they’d first met.

  It brought a bittersweet lump to her throat. ‘I wasn’t,’ she immediately fired back. ‘Thanks for the update though.’

  But as Rayne stared at his profile, at the barely there bump on the bridge of his nose, she knew she’d lied. His was a face she'd loved looking at once upon a time. Her hand dropped to the necklace around her neck, a finger tracing the delicate gold chain, glad the treasures that hung from it nestled in the hollow between her breasts, hidden safely against her heart.

  ‘Morning ladies,’ Adam smiled as he strolled up to them outside the Wimbledon complex the next morning. ‘Are you ready? How are your heads?’

  Lily clutched her temples and groaned, pawing through her bulky camera bag for sunglasses and a bottle of energy drink.

  It was another sunny day, and likely to be a scorcher again later on. Rayne almost felt sorry for Lily, except she was going to enjoy teasing her about her hangover too much. Plus, hung over or not, her petite friend still looked sickeningly beautiful in a pale yellow dress, making Rayne feel boyish and tall by comparison in the beige city shorts and casual white shirt she’d picked. Still, at least she’d slung on wedge multi-coloured sandals and a bulky statement necklace on the way out the door.

  ‘Rayne?’ Adam turned to her, sucking on his bottom lip.

  She adjusted the satchel handbag on her shoulder, pasting her professional face on. It had been so lovely to spend time with him yesterday, but so simultaneously heart breaking - like she’d lost her best friend then found him again, only to have to say another goodbye - that she was determined to keep her distance. ‘Fine, thanks. I got home last night, took a cold shower to sober up, and once you’d texted me the names of the players we could interview, I did my research and got my questions ready.’

  ‘Great. Is Lils going to be okay though?’ he asked as Lily produced a Mars bar and started nibbling on it, white-faced. ‘Are you sure she’ll be able to focus the camera?’

  ‘Hey!’ Lily scowled at him before wincing. ‘I’m right here, and I’m not that bad. Besides,’ she said sheepishly, ‘it’s got all the bells and whistles on it, including auto focus.’

  ‘Thank god for that,’ Adam grinned, gesturing for them to follow him over to a steward, who waved them through the entrance after checking his clipboard.

  As they walked into the grounds and down Henman Hill, Rayne looked out across the concrete paths, low leafy buildings with their dark green branded Wimbledon signs, kiosks and neat hedges. It was like a mini village and she’d expected it to be messy, covered in litter and debris from yesterday’s teeming crowds, given the relatively early hour, but it was pristine.

  ‘They clean it up at night,’ Adam said, reading her mind, ‘sometimes it takes them until one in the morning.’

  ‘I’m not surprised, with capacity for over 38,000 spectators,’ Rayne responded, descending the stairs carefully in her high heels. It gave her an excuse to avoid looking at him, which made it easier to ignore how sexy he looked in a pair of tight jeans and a navy polo top. The outfit was the closest she’d seen him to his old self, but the effect was ruined by the tattoo on his bicep and the fact he hadn’t shaved again.

  ‘You’ve been doing your research,’ he grinned, leading her and Lily into the No. 1 Court building.

  Rayne followed, trying hard not to stare at his bum, keeping her eyes on the line of his shoulders instead. She wasn’t sure how much better that made it, given how broad they were ‘You know me,’ she said, ‘I like to be prepared.’ It was the one thing they’d had in common. How seriously they’d taken their studies, although for entirely different reasons. Her out of passion, him out of duty.

  ‘Oh, thank god,’ Lily muttered faintly behind her, letting out a small groan of relief as they stepped into the shade.

  Adam chuckled. ‘Poor Lily. Don’t worry; I’ll make sure they supply you with plenty of iced water.’ He glanced over his shoulder at them both, as he led them up a set of carpeted stairs. ‘The Press Officer suggested you interview the players in the Membership Suite, is that okay?’

  ‘Wherever suits is fine,’ Rayne raced up the stairs behind him, trying to keep up, ‘I’d interview someone in a toilet cubicle if that’s what it took to get the story. Correction, I have interviewed someone in a toilet cubicle to get a story.’

  He chuckled as he took her into a reception area with dark wooden floors and a couple of smart beige sofas up against the wall, walking straight through into the suite. ‘I’d love to hear about that sometime, but I think you’ll prefer this place a bit more.’

  ‘Well, anything would be an improvement on-’ she stepped into the room, and let out a low whistle. ‘Oh. Wow.’

  ‘Do you two have to walk so quickly with those giraffe legs you both have?’ Lily complained as she wobbled up behind them, sunglasses pushed back on her head. ‘What are you doing?’ she squinted at Rayne, before turning to face the room. ‘Hmmm. Right. Nice.’

  ‘Yep, that would be one description.’ Rayne answer
ed, taking in the floor to ceiling windows along one side of the long space, the muted light brown carpet, circular white table clothed tables with posh flower centre-pieces, the white, brown and beige chairs and tasteful red light shades, with a modern bar accented with lime green stools crowning the end of the room.

  ‘The light’s great for the photos,’ Lily turned her face towards the windows, squinting slightly. ‘It’s a lovely setting. I was going to set an area up for the pics but I think I’ll just take them of you with each player at the table. Go for that relaxed look, but in tasteful surroundings. Our lifestyle section might be able to use some too. I might take some extra photos of the bar area and table settings. Maybe I’ll move this table further over there…’ Lily wandered off muttering under her breath.

  ‘She’s still got that distracted fairy thing going on then,’ Adam grasped Rayne’s elbow to move her further into the room as a PR girl arrived, followed by a member of the restaurant staff.

  Rayne sniggered, remembering how he’d christened Lily that one night when she’d gotten distracted by something, lost them for two hours and then called them to come find her. It’d taken half an hour to track her down at a random cafe bar a few roads away. ‘She only goes off into her own world occasionally.’ Watching her friend talking to herself, completely oblivious to the fact she’d just stepped right in the way of the PR girl, who shook her head and skirted around Lily in a circle. ‘I think the dregs of alcohol coursing through her bloodstream are the problem today.’ She glanced down at Adam’s hand still holding her arm, pulling their bodies close together, his heat warming her side. ‘Adam?’ Lifting her head, she found him watching her intensely and forgot to breathe. Was it always going to be like this with him and never the same with anyone else? The question was enough to jolt some common sense into her, providing the motivation to step away.