Love Game - Season 2012 (6 page)

“Is it not allowed to deliberately
not
have fun?” Gabriella retorted. “I’m trying to win matches. I’m a competitive
person.”

“I guess it wasn’t your day,” Elise said
sheepishly.

“It never is these days,” Gabriella said
cryptically, running to catch a tournament cab and leaving Elise dumbfounded.
It was the first time they had argued since they had become friends during the
last season.

***

Mint was hurrying up the stairs. She had
less than one hour before she needed to be back in the spa area of the hotel
where her stepmother was enjoying a back rub right now, believing that Mint was
in the room next door. Once she opened the heavy metal door and the cool breeze
tousled her hair all the stress fell off her. She squared her shoulders,
breathed in deeply and walked to the edge of the roof. Surrounded by the fiery
red evening sky and the skyscrapers around Sydney’s Circular Quay Mint sat down
and placed her laptop on the balustrade. Last night she had come here, just to
get away from her stepmother a bit and had discovered that there was great
wi-fi reception on the roof along with a fantastic view and much-needed
privacy. After answering her e-mails, she checked if any of her friends were
available for a video call. She would have loved to show them the Harbour
Bridge and the silhouette of the Opera House in the evening sun. But none of
them were online for a chat, not even Chili who was in Tasmania at the moment
playing a tournament in Hobart. Mint had initially considered signing up for
the tournament too, as it was smaller and she would have been seeded in the
main draw, but her stepmother had decided that it was better to play Sydney.

Mint sighed. She had realized right away
that Evelina Rickenbacher had made the decision solely based on the shopping
and entertainment values of the city, not whether it was best for her
stepdaughter’s chances to rack up some ranking points and perhaps even a title.
Mint had no chance of reaching one of the later rounds here in Sydney, with all
the top players warming up for the Australian Open. First she had to get
through the qualifying process and she had to win one more match tomorrow
morning before she would be in the main draw. Then she needed luck to get
further in the tournament. As a qualifier it was possible to get drawn against
a high seed, so the tournament could be over for you before it really started.

Besides getting away from her obnoxious
stepmother, Mint had another reason for wanting some privacy. She was working
on something she needed to keep away from Evelina at all costs. Mint clicked on
a folder on her computer and a window appeared asking for a password. After a
few seconds a table of thumbnails opened on the screen. In the last few days,
whenever Evelina wasn’t around, Mint had begun to go through the pictures
again. She had lost interest in them after Luxembourg, and the off-season had
provided her with a well-needed break from the tennis bubble, which she had
savored to the fullest during a debaucherous two-week vacation in the Bahamas
before going to Florida for training. But because the tour had started again
her watch dog was back, and there was nothing to do but play mind games over
what to do next with these pictures. There were actually really good ones among
them and Mint had decided to play a little trick on her compatriots, Gabriella
and Lulu. She had long pondered whether to give them prints of the picture that
showed one of the twins with Sasha. The photo was more about Sasha than about
the twin though. Sasha was staring at the Galloway, making it easy to read her
feelings from the expression on her face. The twin in the picture wasn’t doing
anything herself. She was only the object of Sasha’s admiration. Other than the
other pictures showing Amanda and Elise and Martina and Antonia which Mint had
found on the memory stick, there was no interaction here.

But at least it would give the twins
something to rack their brains about. Where did the picture come from? Why was
Sasha staring at the twin? Mint chuckled. They could handle a little
brain-racking. It would be a nice change from shooting glamorous videos for
Supersport. Mint picked a picture. She wanted to make prints of it and hand
them to the Galloways in Melbourne.

Suddenly a loud bang startled her. The door
to the staircase was pushed open and somebody walked through. Mint squinted her
eyes against the setting sun. The person had turned away from the door, so Mint
could only see the back and the short hair. It was Polly Duke, the Canadian
player. What was she doing here, Mint wondered. She was absolutely certain that
Polly couldn’t afford this hotel. She would usually stay with others in a cheap
guesthouse.

Walking towards the edge without slowing
down, she looked like a robot out of control. For a second a horrible image
flashed through Mint’s mind of Polly touching the balustrade with her feet and
tumbling over it without even turning her head. Mint frowned, following Polly
with a her eyes. The Canadian was approaching the edge and to Mint’s relief
stopped before the knee high wall. Peering over the edge into the abyss of the
street she seemed to wait. Then suddenly she stepped onto the balustrade. What
the hell was Polly doing? Mint jumped up, but hesitated to run over to the
Canadian. Should she shout out? But what if it frightened Polly and she fell
over the edge because of Mint’s yelling. From the other end of the roof she saw
that Polly was at last sitting down on the little wall, hanging her feet over
it. No, Mint decided, she shouldn’t shout out. Perhaps it was best not to let
Polly know she was there. Careful not to make a sound she made her way across
the roof and sneaked over to an air condition unit near Polly. She would wait
behind it and observe Polly. Should she slip any further towards the edge she
would need to grab her and pull her back. But until then, it was perhaps for
the best to keep quiet.

Polly was wearing a blue track suit that
looked flattering on her. She had long legs, broad shoulders and one of those
hipster haircuts that was short on one side and in the back while the front was
a little longer. Mint liked the feeling of running her fingers across stubble on
the neck. However, she never really had the opportunity to do so, nor would she
admit to this fancy. Whenever she went out with friends, she picked up feminine
girls. She never hit on the butchy ones. Now that she thought about it, it was
simply more prestigious to score the long-haired beauties. Also, Mint always
succeeded in picking them up. It was easy and it guaranteed her the admiration
of her friends, establishing her reputation as a very successful womanizer.
None of her friends at home knew that she almost lived like a nun while on
tour, even more so now that her stepmother had decided to accompany her all
year round and Chili was hanging out more and more with the other Spanish
girls.

When the orange sun began slipping into the
sea Polly stood up slowly and walked back to the door. After the Canadian
disappeared downstairs, Mint went back to her laptop. It had become cold
outside and she needed to rush back to the spa. She closed all the folders with
a shrug, shut the computer and hurried down the stairs, arriving at the spa
reception just as Evelina Rickenbacher came out of the massage room.

STORMY WEATHER
                            

Melbourne, Australia

“Where is she?” Monica tapped her foot and
looked at the big orange clock that was hanging a little lopsidedly above the
kitchen door. Candice and Agnes sighed, but were still munching on the very
delicious curry Monica had cooked. They were waiting for their Japanese friend,
Natsumi Takashima.

Natsumi had a habit of arriving at an
appointment at the last minute, but she usually wasn’t late – at least not by
one and a half hours.

“You want to call her again?” Candice
asked.

Monica shook her head. “We should finish up
and move on.”

They had another appointment later on – in
a beach bar which was run by one of Amanda’s old school friends. Elise and
Gabriella had talked them into joining them after dinner.

Just when they stood up to leave, the
doorbell rang. Monica ripped open the front door to a grinning Natsumi who
stepped into the kitchen, wearing a short elegant dress and high heels.

“Where the hell have you been?” Agnes
exclaimed.

“Sorry,” Natsumi shrugged. “My plane was
late.”

“Your plane?” Candice raised her eyebrows.
“But you left Auckland five days ago.” Everyone looked at Natsumi, baffled by
the revelation.

“Are you saying you haven’t been in Sydney
all this time?” Agnes asked. “But your first match is tomorrow. Haven’t you
practiced?”

Natsumi shrugged. “No, after that first
round loss, I thought I’d throw in a mini vacation. Just to unwind, you see?”

Monica, Candice and Agnes looked at each
other. No, they didn’t see the reason for that. If you lost a match the only
reasonable thing to do was get to back on the practice court and work on your
shots. Shaking their heads over Natsumi’s new approach to improving her
performance they decided to head out to the bar straight away.

“So, where did you spend your mini
vacation?” Monica asked suspiciously, as they headed outside into the warm
evening air. Perhaps Natsumi had a new girlfriend? Or an affair? How outrageous
that Monica had no idea.

“A secret place,” Natsumi answered.

“Alone?” Monica asked. They followed the
Japanese player down the street towards Coogee Beach. Natsumi seemed to
hesitate which was surprising. Usually, Natsumi wasn’t shy about entertaining
her friends with stories about her raunchy off-season affairs.

“No,” Natsumi finally said, more to herself
than to her three friends. She didn’t seem to be willing to say much more.
Monica turned to Candice and Agnes who collectively shrugged. It was rare to
see Natsumi as peeved as this.

After Natsumi’s loss, she had left Auckland
on the same evening. She had seemed to be brooding over the first round defeat
when Monica saw her in the hallway, but that was normal after suffering an
upset very early in a tournament. They hadn’t talked much in that moment, and
even before that day Monica hadn’t taken the time for an in-depth conversation.

“I asked Gabriella to play doubles with
me,” Monica announced to begin a new topic.

“To actually play tennis?” Candice winked
at her. Monica jabbed her in the ribs.

“Yes, play. At the Olympics. For the United
States of America,” Monica laughed.

“What about Lulu?” Agnes had turned around
to Monica and Candice. “I can’t believe they won’t play.”

Monica shrugged. “It didn’t look like
Gabriella wanted to go back to playing with her sister. So, basically I’m just
helping out.”

“I heard Gabriella is playing for our
team,” Natsumi remarked pensively. “Elise was saying something about her in
Auckland, but didn’t want to elaborate.”

Then the Japanese player began to silently
move her lips while lifting one finger after another.

“What are you counting?” Agnes asked.

Natsumi shook her head. She had stopped at
eight fingers pointed out.

“Never mind,” she said.

***

“Why are we having breakfast at this
unearthly hour?” Agnes asked biting into a strip of bacon.

“Some of the younger players complained
that the dinner would have gone too late,” Candice explained. “They go to bed
early.”

Agnes shook her head in amazement. “Only
five years ago the
Tennis Nurse
trading dinner was actually quite the
party. Now we are having breakfast at 6:30 in the morning.”

“The kids like it,” Natsumi murmured. She
was only having a black coffee, as she couldn’t eat that early in the morning,
she had explained to Agnes and Candice. With squinted eyes she watched a group
of younger players trading books.

“I’ll give you
Court 69
for
Tennis Nurse and The Bad Bounce
,” Chili García López negotiated with
Martina Rodriguez. Stacks of novels were piling up in front of them.

“
¡No jodas!
” Martina exclaimed. “My
grandmother read
Court 69
to me when I still fit into a racquet bag. A
kid’s racquet bag.”

“I also have
The Mystery of The Popular
Pusher
, but I’m still reading it. I can give it to you in a week,” Chili begged,
but Martina waved her hand dismissively.

“I just finished
The Case of The Lotus
Lily
,” Mint mentioned to Martina from across the table. “You can have it
now for the
The Bad Bounce
.”

Martina nodded, considering the deal. Chili
looked at Mint angrily. Of course, Mint would snatch the novel away from her.

“But I want a second book for
The Lotus
Lily
. It’s brand new,” Mint added. “How about
Tennis Nurse and The Bagel
Factory
?”

Martina laughed. “Oh, that was a good one.
But I don’t have it. Morgana might though. How about
Tennis Nurse and The
Australian Formation
?”

Mint hesitated. Where was Morgana? Was it
too early for the Frenchwoman? It was highly unusual for her to miss the
Tennis
Nurse
swap meet. It was also very inconvenient, as Morgana had all the novels,
most of them in duplicate, and she was the best source for new or rare books.

“I have
The Bagel Factory
,” a voice
suddenly piped up. Quietly, Polly Duke had come in and stood behind the
players. She held a single book in her hand.

“Mint wants two books for
The Lotus Lily
,”
Chili remarked spitefully.

Polly let her hand sink down. She shook her
head. “I only have this one.”

“I’ll swap with you,” Mint said quickly.
“I’ve wanted to read
The Bagel Factory
for ages. I heard it’s very funny.”

“Yes, it is,” Polly answered in surprise.
She handed Mint the book. Chili and Martina had fallen silent.

“This one is in very good condition,” Mint
remarked while turning the book, even weighing it. “I also give you
The
Queen of Kopenhagen
for it.”

Chili’s jaw dropped open, but she didn’t
say a word. That was typical of Mint. Humiliating Chili on purpose and using
her
Tennis Nurse
collection to show off. The deal was sealed with a
handshake and Polly now had two books of her own. But the conversation at the
table had died down. Mint had turned back to arranging her novels by
publication date while Chili was staring at Polly.

The Canadian turned around, wanting to
leave again when Candice called her name from the other table.

“Come sit with us for a minute,” the
communications manager said. She patted the chair next to her and Polly obeyed.

“What have you got?” Natsumi asked
curiously, and Polly displayed her new treasures.

“Good ones,” Agnes smiled, popping another
strip of bacon into her mouth.

They chatted for several more minutes
before Polly excused herself. She felt they were trying to cheer her up, as
they knew about her mother’s situation. But Polly didn’t want cheering up.

***

“Hey, how are you?” The unexpected question
startled Sasha. She spun around, ready with a cool reply to get rid of the
intruder. It was Martina Rodriguez. Sasha exhaled in relief. Martina and her
girlfriend, Antonia, were among the few people who knew about the incident when
she had broken her nose in the Istanbul nightclub. They also knew about the
pictures, as they had been given one, too. They didn’t know about the second
fracture, which had been caused by Lulu’s punch in the hospital.

“I’m great,” Sasha lied. “Had a super
off-season.”

“Good,” Martina said hesitantly. “How is
your nose?”

“Fantastic. A welcome side effect is that I
can breathe even better now.” Sasha gave the Argentine a big smile, realizing
that Martina seemed not convinced.

“How about you? Did you have a nice
vacation with Antonia?” she managed to ask in a friendly manner.

“Christmas with the family. Her family,”
Martina chuckled. “Crazy Italians. Lots of food.” She grinned at the thought.
Sasha smiled again. She, too, had spent the holidays with her family at home,
she informed Martina. She didn’t mention it had been far from relaxed due to
them all demanding to know what had happened to her nose. She had given them a
flimsy excuse, as she couldn’t have possibly told them about the flying punch
bowl, or Lulu Galloway, or the picture that had caused all the trouble in
Istanbul.

Sasha sighed while packing her training
shoes into her bag. “Any news from Tom?”

“No,” Martina shook her head. “But Ted told
me on the flight that they were working on a list of suspects.”

“Well, that’s a start. They better be quick
at finding this person. The pictures are pretty provocative, at least in your
case.”

“Yes, they are. But nothing had happened
since Luxembourg,” Martina said pensively, but Sasha could tell she was
worried. “Nobody has contacted us or sent us more prints. It’s really strange.”

“Yes, I wonder what this is about. Let’s
see what the boys come up with. If Ted and Tom make no progress we should take
matters in our own hands. I just don’t like the thought that we depend on two
guys who have completely botched up and who are the main reason why we are in
this misery.”

Martina nodded. Then she looked up.

“Have you contacted the Galloways about the
picture?” she asked.

Sasha snorted. “Why should I?”

“One of them is in the picture with you,”
Martina replied, a little surprised by the vehement reaction. “Wouldn’t it be
fair to warn them? And perhaps they were given a picture, too. If a picture was
given to them in a city other than New York or Luxembourg, it might have clues
pointing to a suspect.”

Martina was right, Sasha had to admit. It
could definitely narrow down the list of suspects.

“Yes,” she said, smiling at the Argentine.
“Good idea. I’ll let them know.”

It was a frightening thought and Sasha had
no intention of getting close to the twins. But Martina’s argument couldn’t be
easily dismissed. After saying goodbye to Martina she shouldered her bag and
left the locker room. Wandering down the hallway she then realized that she
hadn’t thought about her big nose for more than fifteen minutes. Instead she
now thought about the Galloways, which was just as bad.

***

This was definitely a great place for a
wedding, Ted thought, turning his head towards the sea and feeling the breeze
on his face.

Mighty waves were rolling in on the beach
and the majestic rocks that lined the shore along the Great Ocean Road looked
like they would remember a wedding vow until the end of time. They weren’t
called Apostles for no reason. You had to mean it.

“Now without the shirt!” The command and
the subsequent whistles brought Ted back to reality. He nodded at the
photographer and the grinning lighting crew and pulled the shirt over his head.
No time to dream about weddings that would never happen. At least not for him.

They had been working all morning on a
photo shoot for his sponsor and, after a couple more shots, the photographer
called for a quick break.

When Ted sat down on a set chair to enjoy
the scenery a car came down the track and stopped next to the makeup van. Ted
immediately tensed up, when he saw who had arrived.

“Hey, guys,” Carina Gnocchi waved to the
whole team, then walked over to Ted and sat down next to him. Ted had forgotten
that their sponsor had scheduled them together for the photo shoot.

“Hi, Carina,” Ted said without looking up.
He didn’t want to give her any hope for a deep conversation.