As we approach the clubhouse, Lisa stands up with a resigned smile that, for a brief moment, gives me the most intense feeling of déjà vu. A feeling that I’m ruining things for the rest of the team. That I’m the weakest link.
‘Did you win?’ Rose asks her.
‘No,’ Lisa shakes her head. ‘We all lost – every one of us.’
‘Oh, shit,’ Rose says.
But when Barbara appears from the double doors, she has an enormous smile on her face. ‘Jules. Rose.Hugecongratulations, both of you!’ she declares.
Rose shakes her head anxiously. ‘No, Barbara. We didn’t win,’ she tells her, apologetically.
‘Oh, I know that. But you playedbrilliantly. We were watching from the terrace.’
‘You really did,’ Samira agrees. ‘Your opponents were very good so to get them to that scoreline was a real achievement.’
Rose and I exchange glances.
‘You did make some fantastic shots,’ I shrug. ‘That volley in the last game was unbeatable.’
A smile filters onto her face. ‘I’d forgotten about that. And what about your ace?’
‘Hmm. I don’t think it technically qualifies as that when the ball accidentally hits the side of your racquet and plops over . . .’
‘Theyall count,’ Barbara insists.
But it’s only now the match is finished that I start to recognise something. We lost because we were outclassed, not because we played badly. Quite the opposite. The atmosphere in the car on the way home is not that of a losing team. Because, frankly, I don’t feel defeated. I feel like a young girl laughing with her friends on the bus home. And although we didn’t win, I can say something categorically and without question. I’m so glad I came.
I’m still energised by the time I get home and jump in the shower. When I emerge and sit on the edge of the bed, a notification has appeared saying that I’ve been added to a WhatsApp group. The very one I’d refused to join until tonight, when the issue was raised yet again. This time, only one decision seemed to make sense to me. I click on the notification and find a new message on there from Barbara.
‘Bravo on your performance this evening @JulesLawrence. And welcome to the team!’
Chapter 25
Feeling guilty for dropping Gavin at the last minute to play in Thursday night’s tennis match, I rearrange our gym date for the weekend and repeat my apologies. But as we meet outside the fitness centre, he gives me a little kiss on the lips and is clearly not too upset. In fact, as we swipe in, he has a spring in his step and an expression on his face like a kid trying to hold in a secret.
‘I got my gut health results back,’ he eventually tells me.
Gavin has recently signed up for a nutritional programme which he keeps urging me to join, despite it costing £300 a pop even before the subscription starts. For that, you get a series of tests, one of which apparently involved him having to stand in a queue at the Post Office with a poo sample he’d collected no more than twelve hours earlier.
‘So how were they?’
There’s a short pause, like the one before an Oscar winner is announced.
‘I have a microbiome score of . . . eighty-six,’ he says, his mouth twitching as he fights a smile.
‘Gosh that’s . . . good?’ I say brightly.
‘I know!’ he bursts out, with a laugh. ‘Even I was surprised! It included thirty-nine different types of good bacteria, including a recently discovered Oscillibacter species.Thirty-nine!’
‘You must be proud.’
‘Well, I don’t like to brag,’ he replies, knocking back a mouthful of vitamin water. But there’s no doubt he’s workedhard for this and is buffer than ever all round. As I follow him up the stairs, his glutes currently look like two boiled eggs.
As he opens the door for me and places his hand on the small of my back, it strikes me that he seems quite touchy-feely today. He’s still a complete gentleman, though, and I wonder with a bolt of alarm if this is his way of trying to gently move our relationship forward onto a more physical level.
‘I hope you realise all the progress you’re making, Jules,’ he says encouragingly, touching my elbow now, as he directs me to a bench. ‘You lookshredded.’
‘Oh. Thanks,’ I smile.
