by Fox Brison
“Quite the fan club.”
The smug, arrogant tone was not lost on me and I shivered. I hugged myself and turned to speak to… “Laura Hargreaves?” I said with the hint of a question.
“You’ve heard of me? Good. I’ll be finished in about, oh,” she looked at her watch, “half an hour. How about I take you to dinner and then you show me the…” her eyes sauntered from the top of my head down to my toes and back again, lingering uncomfortably when she reached my chest, “sights?” Her whole body leered, which convinced me she didn’t see me as another human being, just another notch on her bedpost. She had the air of someone who usually got what they wanted, and I was positive the only sight Laura Hargreaves wanted to see was the inside of my bedroom and my naked body.
I wanted to go home and shower immediately.
There was something about her and the way she raked her eyes over every inch of my body that made me feel dirty and cheap all at once. There was also an ice cold detachment, the calling card of Helen Maskel.
“I’m waiting for your opponent.” I turned away, not wishing to encourage her any further.
“Georgy Porgy? Seriously? She’s barely competent to teach here. If it wasn’t for David and her Mum I wouldn’t even be stepping on court with the loser.”
“Georgia Maskel is smart, funny, beautiful and an amazing tennis player. She’s worth ten of you. I wouldn’t touch you with a barge pole the size of your ego. George, however…” I let my eyes go dreamy, “mmm. Oh yes, she can touch me however, wherever and whenever she pleases.” Laura stropped off and I gave a triumphant “ha”
“Are you trying to piss my opponent off? Is this a cunning revenge tactic?” Georgia was standing with hands on her hips, a small smile playing on her lips. “Is it a psychologist’s trick that you haven’t shared?”
“Oh God, no, not at all!” I protested embarrassedly.
“Relax, Em, I’m kidding.”
“How are you?” I lowered my voice and tentatively laid a hand on her forearm.
“I’m good. Actually I feel great. However, in about an hour,” she wobbled her hand, “eh, maybe not so good.”
“George, can we talk?”
“I thought that’s what we were doing?” She ran the zip up and down her tracksuit jacket, a nervous action we’d noted during one of our sessions. I put my hand on top of hers and brought it to a stop.
“I mean after. About everything.”
“I can’t. Julia’s taking me and Dana out for dinner.”
“Oh. Oh right. Yes. Dana mentioned it this morning.”
“You’re welcome to join us. I’m sure the reservation can be changed to five instead of three.”
“Five?”
“I’m assuming Lanky will join us.”
“You know I hate it when you call him that.”
“Yep.”
“And he loves it because you chose it.”
“Also true.”
“You sound so much more confident. Forceful.” I looked at my toes. “I like it. Go give Laura the skank a hiding.”
“Oh if only,” Georgia laughed. “But I’ll try, just for you.”
***
“Dr Myers?” The gravelly voice interrupted my musing. I turned to see a smartly dressed, slightly portly man with a gentle smile and kind eyes.
“Yes Mr…?”
“Call me Pete, I’m Pete Maskel. Georgia’s father. How is she doing? She seems better? The pressure… it isn’t…”
There was a distinct note of anxiety, but an even bigger one of love. I wondered if Georgia had ever heard it, or if she was so consumed by fear it passed her by. “I’m sorry, Mr Maskel, I’m sure you can understand I can’t discuss your daughter with you, unless, of course, she gives me her express permission. Besides, I’m no longer her clinician.”
“Peter, we need to be in our places. Laura’s won the toss and is serving first.” The tall woman in a pale blue tracksuit could be no one else but Helen Maskel. I was stunned at just how much George resembled the older woman.
“Helen, this is Dr Myers.” Peter introduced me.
“Yes, I know who she is. Come on, Peter, we need to find our seats to support Laura.”
What about George? The thought was on the tip of my tongue, but I knew saying it aloud would do nothing for Georgia. And that saddened me. It saddened me to see these two people ignoring the wonderful woman that was their daughter for a one off stupid mistake.
I wondered if Peter Maskel would ever know the truth that it hadn’t been George’s mistake that ruined their lives.
It had been his wife’s.
Chapter 43
Georgia
Three sets later Laura Hargreaves was exhausted, but not as exhausted as I was. My fitness levels were off the charts, normally, but playing against a world top twenty player who had me running around like a madman for two and a half hours was a different story altogether.
My mother had approached me before the match started. To an outsider it would have looked like a mum giving her daughter a good luck pep talk.
Except it wasn’t anything like that.
“I can’t believe you agreed to this farce,” she said, the smile not reaching her eyes. “I always thought you’d end up in a circus, I just didn’t think I’d be a part of it.”
“I had no choice.”
“Yes, you did. Look at yourself, scrabbling around in county qualifiers. Haven’t you brought enough shame on this family with your antics? Don’t answer that, I can’t be bothered to listen to the same old excuses again.”
“And you’re the same old mother, aren’t you? Still giving me hell. Would it kill you to show me just a tiny molecule of support?”
“I want your word, Georgia. Once Laura has thrashed you, you can go back to hiding in your little dyke bar and playing house with your ‘friend.’”
“And if I win?”
Helen Maskel sneered. “I see the new shrink hasn’t cured you of your delusions. Do you think you have a genuine chance of beating Laura? Admit it, Georgia, you can’t make it without me, you’re desperate to find that missing link. Haven’t you figured it out by now? It’s me. I made you great, not the other way round.” My mother left me standing in shock. The animosity between us was palpable, I had just never acknowledged it before now.
My mother hated me.
For what? She accused me of ruining her life, of taking away her chance at greatness and I was only now realising that I wasn’t the only one seeking excuses to validate my failure. “Fuck you, Mother.” She no longer had any control over my life.
And it felt great.
***
“Don’t look at her, don’t look at her,” I chanted under my breath. Match point.
Against my nemesis from junior days.
Against the woman who had my Dad and Mum by her side.
Against the woman who wanted into Emma’s pants.
“Oh, hell no, I’m so not going to lose today.” Tossing the ball into the air. “Not to her.”
Thwack.
“Fault.” Laura stood up and stared at me over the net, daring me to challenge her lie, daring me to look petty in the eyes of the crowd and the press.
“It wasn’t,” I muttered, aware that was the only thing I could say. “Fuckin’ lying bitch.” Okay, I could also say that. Surprisingly it made me feel better. Huh. Losing control of my emotions, even slightly, wasn’t going to kill my game. That was new. That was improved. Georgia Maskel 2.0, updated and emotionally stable. “Focus, Maskel.” I bounced the ball twice, then glanced over my shoulder before tossing the ball into the air once more.
Thwack.
The ball flew over the net and edged the service line. Laura got a racket to it, returning it with added venom. I raced into the backhand corner and thumped the ball back with interest. The rally had begun and no matter how tired I was, I planned on chasing each and every shot down as if it was a scumbag sex offender and I was Olivia Benson. The sweat dripped down my nose and my hair
was stuck to my head and my lungs were on fire…
But I wouldn’t give in.
There was nothing on my mind, nothing but the next stroke, nothing but the perfect placement, nothing but the sound of the tennis ball hitting the racket strings and the rasping of my breath as I struggled to stay in the point.
Thwack
Thwack.
“Out!”
I bent over, taking in great gasps of air whilst gripping my knees with my hands, my legs shaking and beginning to cramp. It felt like slow motion; I couldn’t hear the crowd, only the sound of my gasps as I desperately sucked in lungful after lungful of oxygen. Lifting my head ever so slightly, my eyes searched for the umpire. “Fuck me,” I pleaded. “No more, please, no more.”
“Game, set and match, Ms Maskel.” With those words it was like the mute button had been switched off and the roar nearly knocked me to the floor. I’d only gone and done it.
I’d won.
I gradually straightened and slowly turned towards the stand. I saw Lawrie with his arms in the air cheering and Dana and Julia were dancing with joy. I searched for, and found, Emma’s eyes.
“Lucky break.” Laura gripped my hand and pulled me in, to all intents in purpose giving the customary air kiss to each cheek. “Next time we meet, I’m going to crush you. You’ll never pick up a racket again.” She waved to the crowds still cheering, before spinning back to me, her smile still present, but only on her mouth. Her eyes were telling a different story. “Pity your parents weren’t here to see you.” With another jaunty wave, she headed back to her chair.
I saw red.
She’d begun to sing autographs by the side of the court and I marched towards her. I’ll kill her, I’ll fucking kill the bitch. I ignored the stares and the people hurriedly stepping back to get out of my way. I rushed past the well-wishers waiting to congratulate me, and David as he called out my name. I focussed on Laura and choosing which way I was going to end her life. Strangulation. Blunt object. No, I’ll make her eat her racket. Actually, I’ll shove her racket so far up her arse she’ll be able to serve with her teeth.
I screeched to a halt when Emma and Lawrie stood slap bang in front of me with smiles as wide as a crescent moon on their faces. “Mum says we’re all going to dinner, George. I vote for pizza.” Three became five when we were joined by Dana and Julia.
“Georgy?” Jules reached out and touched my arm, concern evident in her eyes.
“You go on ahead, I’ll catch you up. There’s something I need to say to Laura.”
“No, you don’t.” Julia took my hands in hers. I could hear Laura laughing and there was a nasty edge to it.
“Hey, are your family taking you out to celebrate?” she called. “Oh wait, no, we’re all going to a sponsor’s meeting.”
“What did she say? Whore,” Julia spun, but Dana grabbed her arm.
“If you take her bait, the LTA will have no choice but to ban you and probably George as well.” Emma spoke calmly and rubbed her hand over the small of my back, small soothing circles which broke my murderous haze.
“Besides she’s half right, George.” Dana said softly. “Your family is here to take you out. We’re not conventional, by any stretch of the imagination, but we’re here for each other.”
“Awesome,” Caroline, Sean and Patrick joined us. “My favourite sister-in-law rocked that court today!”
“Hey, I’m standing right here.” Julia protested.
“Oops, sorry, Jules.” But Caroline didn’t appear sorry and gave Dana a quick wink. She’d been watching events unfold and decided to serve as another distraction from Laura’s provocation.
“So, I believe it’s now dinner for eight. Burgers and tex-mex?” Sean was on the phone to the restaurant.
“Not pizza?” Lawrie huffed disappointedly.
“Not pizza, but it’s an awesome restaurant, they even have those God awful tofu things Georgy likes.” Patrick, Sean and Caroline’s son, was eager to go. He was starving and, like me on the court, was taking no prisoners in his hunt for his next burger fix.
Warmth bloomed in my chest.
My family.
***
“Hey, George, come on, we’re going to the Birdcage to do some real celebrating.” Julia said after dinner which had been a real success. It wasn’t just a celebration because I’d beaten Laura, it was a celebration of family, and a thoroughly modern one at that. I’d been so focussed on the past and the future I wasn’t able to see the now. I realised I had people in my life that cared and loved me and that I was happy. For the most part at least.
But I was also knackered so I politely declined - well kind of politely declined. I couldn’t resist teasing Julia. “Like I want to watch you two smooching all night.”
Julia blushed.
She was doing that a lot lately.
“Do you want to come back to mine for a coffee?” Emma asked as we stood by our cars in the parking lot. Lawrence was already inside staking claim to the iPod.
“I don’t think so, Emma. Today was a trial. A serious trial. I can’t believe I almost lost it tonight. All my hard work gone up in a puff of angry smoke.”
“Then come and talk to me. We’ll have a coffee, or a herbal tea-”
“Emma, I appreciate the offer but I just want to go home, soak, and be asleep before Julia drags Dana back to ours.” I saw Emma’s disappointment. “However, I have an appointment booked in with my psychiatrist tomorrow. I’m due to meet her at two thirty. Want to grab a coffee beforehand?”
“Sure, I’ll make sure I’m free. How’s it going with Dr Sweeney?”
“I’m not going to lie, Emma, it’s hard. But I’ve made such progress that, well, I don’t just want to stop. I think there’s still work to be done. And I’m willing to give it a go now.”
“And… and us?”
“You called it. Everyone called it. There is no us. There can never be an us. I accept that and I’ll never compromise your integrity again. See you tomorrow.”
In the darkness, I didn’t see the tears in Emma’s eyes glinting in the moonlight.
Chapter 44
Georgia
I phoned Emma and hoped that she answered. I’d been pretty harsh the night before. The saying goes the truth hurts, but I’d lied like a Persian rug on a rich man’s floor and it had almost killed me.
I really wanted there to be an us.
When she finally answered I was in the middle of mentally preparing to leave a message, so everything came out in a rush. “Hi, Em, look I can’t make coffee before my session with Dr Sweeney so I was wondering would you mind if I popped round after. I have something for you and Lawrie.”
“Sure, George, that’s worked out perfectly. I was having trouble rearranging one of my clients and I would’ve been pushing it for time. I’ll see you what, around four? Four-thirty?”
“Yeah, depending on school traffic. Thanks, Em, see you later.” I didn’t realise until after I got off the phone that I had been holding my breath. I was feeling raw and vulnerable, but I was finding it slightly easier to open up each time I saw my new psychologist. Would it help my game? Frankly I didn’t care, it was doing wanders for my mental well-being, and that, I’d learned, was the most important thing.
I arrived at Emma’s just after five - damned traffic. It had only been a couple of weeks, but it felt like I hadn’t been there in years, so much had happened. “These are for you.” I presented Emma with a huge bouquet of flowers. “And this is for you,” I handed a large box to Lawrie.
“For me? Are you… why…?” Lawrie asked, blatantly surprised. He put his hands behind his back so he didn’t have to take the gift.
“I simply wanted to thank you, Lanky. For being a good sport at the tennis centre and for sticking up for me when Adam was being a well, being Adam. Go on,” I pushed the box into his stomach so he had no option. “Take it.” He placed it on the kitchen table and stared at it like it was Pandora’s Box. He began to slowly tear off the paper, not that
it made much difference. It looked like a five year old wearing mittens had wrapped it. “I won’t be around for a while, so this will keep you occupied.”
“Where are you going?” He stopped what he was doing and looked up. Emma was putting her flowers into a vase but she was all ears. I knew this because she momentarily stopped placing the delicate lilies into her Waterford Crystal bloom bowl.
“I’ve been given a wild card entry to a tournament in Marrakesh.”
“Wow, George, that’s awesome. I think I’ve heard of that place. Isn’t it a song or something? Where is it exactly? Sounds like Turkey?”
“It’s in Morocco. North Africa. I’m not sure about the song.”
“It’s by Crosby Stills and Nash,” Emma said. “I have their greatest hits and make Lawrie suffer it when we go away.”
“I get my own back and make her listen to Ed Sheerin on the journey home. What do you listen to?”
“Me? I’m into country… the Dixie Chicks, Sara Evans. A little 80s rock too.”
“I’ll have to download some of their songs. Mum reckons it’s important to listen to a range of singers and songs.”
“And I agree.”
“So is Marrakesh a big tournament?” Lawrie asked. He still hadn’t opened his present.
“Pretty big, yeah. It’s on clay, but it will be good experience. Another British player pulled out, which is why I was given this spot.”
“I betcha not taking Kermie!” he said with a chuckle.
I laughed in agreement. “You’d bet right. Julia and Caroline are coming as moral support, but only the finals weekend if I make it.”
“Surely they should be there from the start?” Lawrie was confused. “I mean, I heard Aunty Dana say to Jules that you needed someone behind you. That way you don’t freeze.”
“Wow, talk about big ears, kid!” I ruffled his hair and he nudged my shoulder. “I can’t rely on someone being there for me all the time, Lawrie. My friends all have jobs, lives, and I can’t ask them to drop everything and come running every time I have a tournament.”