With three quarters of an hour to go before the match started, final preparations for the game were underway. Half-dressed players were padding about in socks (no wonder the place smelt the way it did) and Ted was giving the square one last roll.
Dumping the bags and leaving Mum to it, I slipped out onto the white-fenced veranda which ran the across the front of the clubhouse. Today it offered cool shade from the sun, which was getting hotter. Studded boots clattered past me on the wooden boards as the two teams trooped in and out of the pavilion. Bill and my brother were over in the nets practising with a couple of other players. At every turn I was greeted by familiar faces.
‘Olivia! Haven’t seen you here for a while? How’s life treating you?’
‘Home for the weekend, are you?’
‘Wotcha. Seen Ben?’
‘Where’s your dad, love? The umpire wants a word.’
‘Go on, make us a cuppa.’
Some were contemporaries of Dad’s, others, mates of Ben’s and all were accompanied by wives, girlfriends or children armed with blankets and rugs, deckchairs and cool boxes. The ground was filling rapidly.
‘Olivia! Wait up.’
It was Daniel calling from the car park. I waited on the veranda as he strode over.
There was an odd expression on his face.
* * *
He could see her standing on the pavilion steps as he got out of his car. She looked relaxed and happy, not like the last time he’d seen her. Talk about guilty face, wrapped in a bathrobe peering round the door of the hotel suite. He smiled grimly to himself. Bet she’d had a near heart attack with an unexpected knock at the door. Although she was probably used to it. Was that what it was like when you had an affair, in constant fear of being found out or spotted where you shouldn’t be? Some people, he supposed, got off on that kind of thrill... although he didn’t see Olivia as the type.
And now he was about to give her the really bad news. He couldn’t believe it. No one had heard from Mike for bloody years and then out of the blue, one of the other players dropped out and asked Mike to step in for him. The worst thing was going to be breaking it to her.
There was no easy way to do it.
He caught up with her just outside the kitchen.
‘Olivia...’ He paused loathe to tell her. ‘Porn Star Mike—’
‘What about him?’ Olivia looked blank.
‘He’s . . . coming . . . today. Sorry.’
‘Mike?’ Her voice pitched up in disbelief.
He nodded.
For a moment her face crumpled in dismay. At least it was better than the tears she’d shed the first time she confided in him what had really happened between them on one of their shared journeys home. Catching your boyfriend in bed with someone else really sucked. He’d done his best to try and cheer her up, coming up with the stupid name Porn Star Mike — it wasn’t really that funny but at the time it had made her smile and then it had stuck.
‘Sorry,’ he said, reaching toward her. ‘We were short. James said he knew someone and I never gave it another thought until he sent through his team list last night.’
‘Bugger.’ She pulled a face. ‘Really?’
‘Yeah, I’m sorry.’
‘Can’t be helped,’ she said briskly. ‘Not your fault. Ancient history.’
Although she pulled a face and shrugged, he could see she’d put a brave face on. ‘No doubt everyone will find him charming and I’m far too “nice” to tell.’
With the misery in her expression, he couldn’t help but put an arm round her to give her quick hug. He breathed in the scent of her newly washed hair, which still felt slightly damp as it tumbled across his forearm. To his surprise she leaned in to him and he could feel her heart pounding against his chest. It brought back the memory of them lying full-length on her sofa lost in kisses and his own pulse kicked.
With a squeeze, he reassured her with the words, ‘Don’t worry about old Porn Star. You’ll be OK.’
The nickname finally elicited a giggle and she looked up at him, the sadness dissolving in her eyes. Encouraged, he smiled down at her and she responded, squaring her shoulders and lifting her chin with a determined nod.
