John's first serve is strong, but I get to it. My return is in but weak and Hannah has to take one reflex shot and another, but she manages to play a good ball into their corner. John sends what should be a middle-distance sitter into the unoccupied space on our side. Both Hannah and I barrel towards it then each realizes the other is also running. We both pause and the ball bounces in and away from us.
"Fifteen love," John announces.
John serves to Hannah, noticeably slower than he served to me. She has no problem returning it, but Tamara lobs it over Hannah's head and my racket whiffs it.
"Thirty love."
John's next service is an ace all day long. I barely twitch before it's past me.
"Match point."
John sends another gentle ball to Hannah. When he gets it back, he hits it a lot harder at me. I'm able to return it, and Hannah gets to Tamara's next drop shot handily. The ball is in the air for a long time, enough for John to plan his next shot. He sends it middle-distance and to the opposite side of the court again. Aware of what happened last time, neither of us have any hesitation in running straight for it. We end up with our bodies tangled together on the floor.
"Game, set, and match," John says.
I pick myself up, offer a hand to pull Hannah to her feet, and join our opponents at the net.
"Good game," John says, giving me a firm handshake. He's bigger than me, not quite taller, but wider around the shoulders and more muscled. That gives him an advantage on the court but not as much as two decades extra experience does. His wife is a good half a foot taller than Hannah too. We, supposedly, have youth on our side. That hasn't been much help today.
"You're being polite," says Hannah. "I'm sorry. It must have been a real waste of time for you. What was it? Six two, six one?"
"Honestly?" John says. "Your fundamentals are solid enough. The problem is Ben has no idea what you are going to do next and you never rely on Ben to be where he needs to be. You're just not on the same wavelength."
"We are...generally," says Hannah. "I mean, okay, maybe not so much for tennis, but we're learning."
John checks his watch. "I have a suggestion. In truth, yes, we did rather storm through that game, but we've still got time. Why don't we play either another full set or until five o'clock, whichever is sooner? Only we swap partners. Tamara, you'd play with Ben, right?"
Tamara nods, but Hannah is skeptical. "What? Spreading the suck around?"
"Language, Hannah," I say. It was her after all who insisted we enroll at a proper members club instead of just knocking a ball around on the local courts.
"I think you'll be surprised," says John.
He's right. Tamara doesn't make every shot but her movements match where I instinctively feel she needs to be. I'm able to stay at the back and make the big shots. Hannah has improved as well. She knows John is a better player than me and doesn't try to steal the balls that are his as they whizz past her. The first set alternates between deuce and advantage three times in a row before John and Hannah take it. The second set Tamara and I win with them on thirty. We're still on the third set when time is up.
While Hannah and I are getting some water, John goes and has a quiet word with Tamara. As we're walking back to the changing rooms, he strikes up the conversation again.
"You're both serious about tennis?" he asks.
"We're serious about losing weight," I say. "Tennis seems like as good a way as any."
"There's the annual club tournament starting in five weeks," he says. "You fancy taking part?"
I shrug. "Well, after today's performance..."
"We were thinking with the switched sides," says Tamara. "You register with me and Hannah plays with John."
"That might be less embarrassing for us, but what's in it for you?" Hannah asks.
We stop outside the doors to the changing rooms.
"We've been playing at this club now for decades," John explains. "We've even won the cup two or three times over the years, but not for a while now. We enter together again and it'll end up feeling exactly the same as last year except we're both another year slower. So, new partners, new challenges. Giving something back to the club by training up the next generation."
"You don't need to say yes now," says Tamara. "Why don't we play a full match same time next week with our new partners, see how we feel and then you can decide from there."
"Okay, we'll certainly think about it," says Hannah.
We split by gender.
"Remind me," John says while we're both showering, "Hannah is, what, your wife? Girlfriend?"
"Fiancee," I say.
"You set a day?" he asks.
"Not quite," I reply. "Sometime in November most likely. Oh, and if we do become regular partners, you'll be invited once in due course."
"Lovely," says John. "You've picked yourself a real firecracker there."
We're coming out of the showers now. I was aware of his physicality on the court. Naked next to me, I'm suddenly not sure if I want him playing with Hannah. Then I decide I'm being stupid and paranoid. It's just tennis.
"I know," I reply.
"Yeah, a real firecracker," John repeats.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
It's the same time next week and we've been at it hard.
We come off the court soaked in sweat. John and Hannah are the winners but only after three fiercely contested sets.
"Fancy the pub?" John asks once all the four of us are out of the changing rooms.
"That's kind of counterproductive," I say. "Hannah got a dress fitting next week and she's been on the scales every day this week."
"Right, the wedding," Tamara says. "How's that going?"
"You know," says Hannah. "We're at the agony of indecision stage with everything."
Hannah has never been a girly girl. Delivering a practical and cost-effective wedding is basically a point of honour for her. But she's also a fantasy artist as a hobby and I've noticed the dresses on her princesses getting more ornate and her castles getting more baroque this past few months. She's definitely got wedding fever, however much she wants to deny it. I'd be concerned about the cost ballooning if I wasn't absolutely certain about her ability to nail it.
"Tell us about it over a drink," Tamara says.
"It doesn't need to be a heavy session," says John. "A Pimms and lemonade on the grass. There's a lovely gastro place that backs onto the river and has peacocks in the garden. Have a salad and a slice of quiche."
"Well, let's face it, we probably were going to weaken and order a takeaway when we got home and discovered our muscles are too stiff to move," says Hannah. "The pub probably still puts me ahead, calorie-wise."
It turns out that the Rutherfords are really nice people. It doesn't take much for two women to bond over wedding talk. John chats with me about sport but with enough humour and insight that it doesn't bore me as much as it usually does. He makes a series of well-reasoned points that I file away the next time I have a conversation with my dad. The peacocks are nice as well.
Just as we're leaving, John checks his phone. "Ah," he says. "I hope you don't think I'm talking liberties, but I put some feelers out for next week. I was thinking me and Hannah could play with Robert and Susan and you and Tamara can play the Vishwakamas."
"Wait," says Hannah. "We're not playing as a four again?"
"If you always play the same people, you'll get thrashed at competition," explains John.
"Right," Hannah replies. "I didn't really think of it like that. We started out just playing for exercise and fun."
"Oh, it's more than just exercise," says Tamara. "There's a real social network here. Mostly nice people. You'll get to meet all kind of people if you become regulars."
"Yeah," says Hannah. "It's just that we're not really social, Ben and I. We tend to keep ourselves to ourselves."
"Sport is a great way to get to know people without having to actually make much conversation with them," says John. "Besides, you don't strike me as the shy type. Ben maybe, a little, if you don't mind me saying."
Hannah smiles. "No, it's not shyness as such, just as a couple we're into the same things, both like our evenings in and don't feel a whole need to have other people around. No offense"
"That's okay for now," laughs Tamara. "Trust me though - find and keep good friends. Don't just get trapped spending all your time together because you feel you have to. After a decade of marriage, you'll be driving each other mad if you don't both have other outlets."
Hannah smiles. "When I said we should get fit, Ben suggested an exercise bike. I think this will be much better."
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
We are in the middle of thrashing the Vishwakamas. After the first game, they spend the break having what can only be only described as a polite society lovers tiff, all exaggerated manners and passive aggression towards each other.
It feels pretty good to be winning for a change.
Victory comes with its own risks though. My blood is flowing with testosterone. The good testosterone of the alpha wolf rather than the bad testosterone of the cornered weasel.
I've been finding myself staring at Tamara's arse between points.
It's a good arse. For someone forty-plus, it's a great arse.
There's a point in the match where she slips and as I help her up, I see right down her top. I don't mean to but my gaze lingers. She gives me a smile when she's back on her feet.
Then in the final set, we collide together. Whereas with Hannah this happened nearly every set, it's the first time that this has happened with Tamara in several games. Her racket bounces right off my wrist and as I go down I scrape my inner thigh.
We take a break as I sort myself out. I'm checking out the movement in my wrist when she comes over and takes my hand. I instinctively pull back.
"Don't be such a big baby," she says, mistaking my reasons. She inspects it and does some rotations with it. I'm going to be fine.
She gets a wipe and some antiseptic and then kneels to attend to my leg, which is not quite bleeding. At first, I try to tell myself that her touch is purely medicinal. When that doesn't work, I try to convince myself that it's merely motherly.
