The Tennis Party (28 page)

‘You’re the lucky one,’ he said, without rancour. ‘You’ve got friends who can afford to help you out.’ He looked around. ‘Has anyone got a spare million they can let us have?’ he said, in a mocking voice. ‘We’ll be terribly grateful. And we’ll try to pay it back. Honest.’ He gave a short, painful laugh, tossed a tennis ball, and slammed it hard across the court. Then he threw his racquet after it, slumped to the ground and buried his head in his hands.

Nicola was sobbing uncontrollably when Annie found her, curled up on the ground, half hidden by a bush. She looked up, startled, at Annie’s touch and tried to scramble to her feet. But Annie clasped her firmly in her arms and pulled her back. There was a brief, tacit struggle before eventually Nicola surrendered and buried her hot, wet eyes in Annie’s shirt, shuddering and gasping for breath. Annie hugged her tight, not saying anything but rocking gently, stroking her hair, soothing away the sobs.

‘Now,’ said Annie, after a while, when Nicola seemed to have calmed down. ‘What’s all this about?’

‘I d-don’t want to go away!’ Nicola’s wail turned into a sob, and a fresh stream of tears landed on Annie’s shirt. ‘I don’t want to g-go to a s-special school.’

‘A special school?’

‘You know, for people like me. For weirdos.’

‘My darling!’ Annie held Nicola away from her in
shock and peered intently at her face. ‘Is that what you thought? That we were going to send you to a special school?’

‘Th-that’s what the g-girls at school s-say,’ shuddered Nicola. ‘They say I’ll b-be sent away to a special school for p-people like me. They say it all the t-time.’

Annie stared at Nicola in shock. Control your anger, she thought. It won’t make it any easier for Nicola if you lose your temper.

‘Listen to me,’ she said, slowly and clearly. ‘You aren’t going to any special school. You’re going to stay just where you are. Those girls are crackers.’ Nicola gave a half giggle, but her eyes were distrustful.

‘Valerie said . . .’ she said.

‘Valerie was talking about something else,’ said Annie. She felt Nicola stiffen. ‘Now listen,’ she said. ‘I’ll tell you what Valerie was talking about. What we were all talking about. Then you can think about it. All right?’ Nicola nodded, her body still tense. ‘When you’re a bit older,’ said Annie, ‘you’ll go to senior school.’

‘Marymount,’ agreed Nicola.

‘Maybe Marymount,’ said Annie. ‘Maybe somewhere else. Has Georgina told you about the school she goes to?’

‘Yes,’ said Nicola cautiously.

‘Do you think it sounds nice?’

‘Yes.’

‘Well, just maybe, if you wanted to, you could think about going there.’

‘St Catherine’s,’ said Nicola thoughtfully. Annie felt her relax slightly.

‘That’s right,’ said Annie. ‘But you’d have to think very hard about whether you want to go. It’s a boarding-school.’ Nicola nodded.

‘I know,’ she said. ‘You sleep in dorms. And you have exeats.’ Annie tried to read her expression, but the afternoon sun was glinting on her glasses.

‘Well,’ she said, ‘we won’t talk about it any more if you don’t want to. There’s heaps of time to decide.’

‘Can I really go if I want to?’

‘I’m not sure yet,’ said Annie honestly. ‘It depends on a few things. Would you be disappointed if you couldn’t?’ Nicola gazed at her for a while. She shook her head, then nodded, then giggled.

‘I don’t know,’ she said.

‘You silly cuckoo!’ said Annie, starting to tickle Nicola’s tummy. ‘You silly cuckoo! Are you still ticklish here? I think you might be!’ Nicola shrieked with laughter.

‘Stop, Mummy!’ she gasped.

‘Sorry, I can’t hear you,’ said Annie. ‘Did you say something?’ Nicola roared with laughter.

‘Stop! Stop!’

Eventually Annie relented. She put her hands above her head.

‘Look! I’ve stopped.’ Nicola remained keyed up for a few seconds, ready for another attack, then flopped down, still giggling. Annie looked down at Nicola.

‘Shall we go back to the others? Or shall we stay here for a while?’

‘Stay here,’ said Nicola. She buried her head into Annie’s lap and closed her eyes. After a while, she said, ‘Why did Valerie say I was going to a special school?’

‘She meant a lovely, pretty, friendly school,’ said Annie. ‘Special doesn’t mean bad, you know. Lots of things are special because they’re so wonderful.’ She paused. ‘Like you in that play this afternoon. You were special because you were so funny.’ Nicola looked up, her cheeks rather pink.

‘It was Georgina’s idea,’ she said.

‘But Georgina couldn’t have done it nearly as well as you.’ Nicola went pinker and looked pleased. ‘I think my favourite bit’, continued Annie, ‘was when you told the poor pig that the sticks were wolf-proof.’ Nicola suddenly gurgled with laughter.

‘That was so funny,’ she said. ‘And then the wolf just came and blew them all away.’

‘Poor little pig,’ said Annie.

‘Silly pig, more like,’ said Nicola robustly. ‘He shouldn’t have believed me. He should have thought,
Will sticks keep the wolf out? No, they jolly well won’t.’

‘I know,’ said Annie. ‘That’s what he should have thought. But, you know, not everyone’s as sensible as you.’ She smiled down at her daughter and gave her a sudden, fierce bear-hug. ‘Not everyone’s as sensible as you,’ she repeated quietly. ‘Not by a long way.’

After a while, Nicola got to her feet. She pushed her hair back and sniffed.

‘I was supposed to find out who was winning the tennis match,’ she said. ‘To tell Georgina.’

‘I’m not sure anyone did,’ said Annie. ‘I think they decided to stop.’ And thank God you didn’t come along any earlier, she thought, feeling suddenly ashamed of the ugly bickering that had gone on; the screams and fighting by people who were supposed to be civilized friends.

‘Well, I’ll go and tell them that,’ said Nicola. She looked suddenly anxious to be away, suddenly embarrassed, perhaps, Annie thought. Well, she was almost getting to that awkward age of embarrassment. And maybe it started younger these days.

‘You go off then,’ she said. ‘You can tell Georgina the score was quite close.’

‘All right.’ Without looking back, Nicola ran off, leaving Annie with a damp patch on her shirt and a feeling of emptiness where Nicola’s head had rested in
her lap. She sat for a few minutes more, with her head thrown back, feeling the sunshine against her face, letting her mind wander, until a cloud moved slowly over the sun, turning the air cool, and a gust of wind blew at her skirt.

Slowly, feeling old and creaky, she got to her feet, and brushed down her clothes. She walked slowly and unwillingly back to the tennis court, wondering what dreadful scene of confrontation would await her. But the only person there was Stephen, sitting in a deck-chair, sipping at a can of beer.

She went and sat down beside him. For a while neither of them spoke. Then Stephen said, ‘Is Nicola all right?’

‘She’s all right now. She thought we were going to send her away to some special school.’ Annie sighed. ‘Those girls at her school have been saying she’s going to be sent away. To a school for weirdos. Can you believe it?’

‘I can believe anything of that lot.’

‘I told her she might be able to go to St Catherine’s.’

‘And what did she think of that?’

‘I couldn’t really tell.’

There was a short silence.

‘Christ, I’m a fool,’ said Stephen suddenly. ‘I don’t know what happened to me this weekend.
I wanted . . .’ He broke off. ‘I don’t know, I wanted to be rich, and successful, and, you know . . . like the others. I thought Patrick might make me a bomb of money, and we could buy a bigger house or something . . .’

‘But I don’t want a bigger house,’ said Annie.

‘No,’ said Stephen. ‘Neither do I. But it’s easy to forget things like that.’ He smiled foolishly at Annie. ‘I’m not level-headed like you.’

‘Oh, I’m not level-headed,’ said Annie surprisingly. ‘I have my own fantasies.’

‘Do you?’ Annie flushed.

‘You know. Silly things. Clothes. Jewels.’

‘I’ll buy you clothes and jewels,’ said Stephen robustly. ‘I’ll buy you all the jewels you can eat.’

‘Will you?’ Annie’s eyes softened.

‘You wait’, said Stephen, ‘till my thesis is published to widespread acclaim. We’ll celebrate with a double order of clothes and jewels.’ Annie giggled.

‘How lovely. I can’t wait.’ Stephen took a slug of beer.

‘I thought I might do some work on it tonight. I’ve had a few ideas.’

‘Good idea,’ said Annie enthusiastically. She looked around and surveyed the empty scene. ‘Is the party over, then?’

‘I suppose it is,’ said Stephen, ‘if all the guests have gone home.’

‘Have they?’

‘Don and Valerie have. They asked me to say goodbye to you. Actually, Don got in a bit of a huff. He thought we weren’t taking the match seriously enough.’

Annie giggled. ‘Poor Don. I don’t think we came up to scratch.’ She giggled happily for a minute or two, savouring the silly, childish humour; the warm afternoon sun; the peace of the moment. Then she gave a huge yawn, stretching and wriggling in her deck-chair. She looked at Stephen.

‘Is it time to go home?’

‘I think so.’ Stephen stood up, held out his hands and hauled Annie to her feet. ‘Let’s get our stuff together. I don’t want to hang around here any more.’

When they got up to the house, they found Caroline standing in the hall.

‘Oh, Caroline,’ said Annie nervously, ‘we thought we might go quite soon.’

‘Yes, I thought you might,’ said Caroline pathetically. ‘I suppose you hate me now.’

‘Oh no!’ exclaimed Annie. ‘Of course not! We’ve had a lovely time. Haven’t we, Stephen?’

‘Lovely,’ said Stephen.

‘Even after what Patrick did?’

‘Patrick didn’t do anything,’ said Stephen firmly. ‘It
was my own fault for getting myself into something I didn’t really want to be in. No harm done.’

‘Oh good.’ Caroline smiled widely at both of them. ‘So we’re still friends.’

‘Still friends.’

‘And you’ll still let us pay for Nicola to go to St Catherine’s?’ Annie glanced at Stephen.

‘Maybe,’ she said cautiously.

‘Oh don’t say you won’t,’ wailed Caroline. ‘Because then I’ll know that you think I only offered because of what Patrick did. And it’s not true. I love Nicola and I want her to have the best. Please? Say you’ll let her go?’ Annie smiled. Caroline was irresistible.

‘Well, all right,’ she said. ‘If she wants to go, that is. It’s her decision.’

‘Of course she’ll want to go.’ Caroline was sweepingly buoyant.

‘She may not,’ warned Annie. ‘We didn’t exactly break the news to her very sensitively.’

‘Oh.’ Caroline looked crestfallen. ‘Did she say she didn’t want to go?’

‘Well, not exactly,’ conceded Annie.

‘There you are then! She’ll do so well there. I can’t wait.’ Annie rolled her eyes at Stephen.

‘The woman’s mad,’ she said.

‘I’m not!’ Caroline looked at them both. ‘I just don’t want to lose my friends.’

‘You won’t lose us,’ said Annie.

‘But we do really have to go now,’ put in Stephen. ‘I’m sorry the party came to such an unseemly end.’ Caroline shrugged.

‘A party isn’t any good unless it comes to an unseemly end. I hope you realize it was all carefully planned.’ She broke into cackling laughter.

‘Oh yes,’ said Stephen. ‘Just checking.’

As they went up the stairs, Patrick came into the hall.

‘Are they off?’ he said to Caroline.

‘Yes,’ she said. ‘You’ll be glad to hear they don’t hold you any grudges. And you’ll also be glad to hear they’ll still let us pay Nicola’s school fees.’

‘Oh good,’ said Patrick sarcastically. He caught Caroline’s eye. ‘Actually,’ he said, in a different voice, ‘that is good. She deserves a bit of a chance, that kid.’

‘That’s what I thought,’ said Caroline. Patrick carried on looking at her.

‘You really laid into Charles out there,’ he said. ‘I couldn’t believe it.’

‘He’s a shit,’ said Caroline briskly. ‘I know,’ said Patrick. ‘But you didn’t have to get involved.’

‘He was slagging you off,’ said Caroline. ‘Of course I had to get involved.’ She looked at Patrick; her eyes
were surprisingly bright. A second later, Patrick had enveloped her in his arms.

‘I really love you,’ he said. ‘You know that?’

‘I had heard a rumour,’ said Caroline. ‘But I never believe rumours.’ Then she was silenced as he fastened his lips to hers.

‘Very touching,’ came a voice from the doorway. It was Ella. The sunlight was behind her, turning her hair into a halo and her face into a silhouette. ‘Sorry to interrupt. I’ve come to get my bag.’

‘Oh, are you going?’ said Caroline, with an unconvincing display of regret.

‘I think so,’ said Ella. ‘Don’t you?’ The two women looked at each other for a few moments before Patrick disentangled himself from Caroline’s arms. He nodded brusquely to Ella and walked out of the hall.

‘I’m sorry I called you a tart,’ said Caroline in a rush. Ella shrugged.

‘I don’t mind. Words like that don’t mean anything to me.’

‘How can you be so calm?’ Caroline stared at her in bemusement. ‘After all that’s happened!’

‘What’s happened? I fucked Charles. Nothing more.’

‘That’s enough to be going on with.’

‘You’ve changed your attitude,’ said Ella. ‘Interesting.’

‘Yes, well,’ said Caroline in an uncompromising voice. ‘We all change.’

Ella’s eyes surveyed Caroline’s face quickly and she gave a little nod.

‘I see. I really am unwelcome here, aren’t I?’ Caroline was silent.

‘All right. I won’t take long to get my things together.’

‘Then what will you do?’ Caroline’s curiosity overcame her.

‘Do? I should think I’ll go straight to Italy. I’ve had enough of this country.’

‘Oh well . . .’ Caroline’s curiosity vanished as quickly as it had arisen. Ella’s life in Italy, as she had described it, was so far removed from Caroline’s idea of what life should be like as to be uninteresting.

As Ella went towards the stairs, Caroline wondered whether this was really the same plump, friendly girl who had lived with Charles in Seymour Road and looked up to him like a god. They had all changed since leaving Seymour Road, she thought. Except perhaps Stephen and Annie. And, of course, they still lived there. Caroline stood and thought about this for a while, and almost felt as though she was on the brink of some startling revelation. But the effort of thinking it out was a bit too much. She shook her head irritably and looked around.