been for the previous two weeks.
As she was travelling down on the train from Victoria, Jude had decided that her approach would be very simple. It wasn’t in her nature to play games. She would tell Carole straight away about her new relationship, and resign herself to whatever fence-mending and bridge-building efforts then became necessary.
But actually being with Carole didn’t make it easy to carry out that plan. Jude felt an uncharacteristic upsurge of guilt. Now she was away from Piers Targett, it seemed inconceivable that during the last two weeks she hadn’t found a moment to pick up her mobile and call her neighbour. Where had the time gone?
‘And you’ve been all right, have you, Carole?’ she asked. ‘You know, since I last saw you?’
‘Oh yes, never anything wrong with me,’ came the brisk, lying reply. ‘You know how it is. I’ve been busy, busy, busy.’
Someone else might have asked what she’d been busy doing, but Jude was too sensitive to do that. She knew about the deep-frozen loneliness that lay at the centre of her neighbour’s heart. ‘Have you seen Stephen and family?’
‘No, I told you,’ Carole replied sharply. ‘They’re in California.’
‘Oh yes, sorry, I forgot.’
‘Taking Lily to various Disney theme parks.’ She couldn’t keep the disapproval out of her voice. Nor could she prevent herself from adding, ‘For which I’m sure she’ll be far too young. But then, of course, children aren’t allowed to have a proper childhood any more, are they?’
There were some pronouncements from Carole with which, Jude had learned over the years of their friendship, it was just not worth taking issue. So she just said, ‘No.’
A silence was suspended between them. Which was unusual. Though Carole could be spiky at times, they rarely had a problem finding things to talk about.
Eventually Jude said, ‘I was introduced to real tennis on Sunday.’
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘Real tennis. The game. Precursor of lawn tennis. Been around for centuries. You know, Hampton Court. . saggy net. . King Henry VIII. .’
‘Oh yes, I’ve heard of it. How on earth did you get involved?’ Carole looked beadily at her neighbour. ‘Was it because of some man?’
There was never going to be a better cue than that and Jude was about to explain everything when she was interrupted by the arrival of the Crown and Anchor’s landlord, Ted Crisp, bearing the piled-up plates of their lunch. Both had ordered the dish of the day, smoked haddock with bubble and squeak and a poached egg on top.
Unkempt as ever, bearded, haystack-haired, Ted put the plates down in front of them. ‘You’ll like this,’ he said. ‘Chef’s best. Haven’t seen you two for a while.’
‘Jude’s been away,’ Carole responded tartly. ‘Somewhere.’
‘Oh yes?’
‘Well, I. .’ Jude found herself blushing. And she never blushed.
‘Never mind, your secret’s safe with me. Anyway, just heard this new joke. .’
‘Oh dear,’ said Carole.
‘What’s E.T. short for?’
‘I don’t know,’ Jude came back at him in music hall style. ‘What is E.T. short for?’
‘Because he’s got little legs!’ Ted Crisp replied with a loud guffaw, and then went off to serve at the bar.
Jude laughed and then explained the joke to Carole, who didn’t find it funny even when she understood it.
Then they got involved in eating their lunch, which was excellent. Ed Pollack, the Crown and Anchor’s chef, really was going from strength to strength.
The two women ate in silence, which was not unusual but was uncomfortable for Jude. She normally felt so serene, so secure in her own skin, that she wasn’t used to the sensations of a simpering schoolgirl. She found herself wishing that when their conversation did finally resume, Carole would have forgotten the point where it had broken off.
It was, however, evident as her neighbour finished the last scrapings of her lunch, laid knife and fork strictly parallel on her plate, dabbed at her mouth with her paper napkin and asked pointedly, ‘So who was it who introduced you to real tennis?’
‘Well, it was-’
At that moment Jude’s mobile rang. She snatched it out of her pocket and saw that the call came from Piers Targett. ‘I must just get this,’ she said, abruptly standing up and moving towards the pub door.
‘There’s a perfectly good signal in here,’ Carole called after her, and as Jude moved outside she could feel her neighbour’s reproachful eyes boring into her back.
FIVE
‘Hello, Jude love. I’ve missed you,’ said Piers’ voice. ‘We’ve been apart now for. . what? Getting on for four hours, got to be. Don’t you ever leave me for so long again.’
‘You are such a smoothie, Piers. And your chat-up lines are cheesier than a month-old Gorgonzola.’
‘I know. Amazing that they still work, isn’t it?’
‘Amazing.’ Jude giggled. ‘I’ve missed you too.’
‘Well, don’t worry. I have arranged our next encounter.’
‘Oh, really?’
‘Yes. We will meet next on Wednesday morning.’
‘Will we?’ Jude was quite relieved. She would have liked to see him sooner, but she really needed the next day to get some kind of normality back into her life. Though the cleaning regime she imposed on Woodside Cottage was minimal — certainly compared to the scouring to which Carole subjected High Tor on a daily basis — it still had to be done. And there were messages on her answering machine that needed responses. Clients who depended on her, needed her services.
‘So where are we going to meet?’ she asked.
‘Lockleigh House tennis court.’
‘Oh?’
‘I am continuing your education, Jude. Yesterday you saw real tennis for the first time. On Wednesday you’re going to play real tennis for the first time.’
‘But I can’t do that.’
‘Why ever not?’
‘Because I’m fat and in my fifties.’
‘Absolutely no bar to playing the game. There were people you saw in the Sec’s Cup yesterday who were carrying a lot more weight than you are.’
That was certainly true, but Jude still felt she had to protest, ‘I haven’t lifted even a proper tennis racket for over twenty years.’
‘Jude,’ said Piers Targett sharply, ‘that is the most offensive thing I have ever heard you say.’
‘Sorry?’
‘A real tennis racket is a
Jude hadn’t heard her lover speak like this before and wasn’t sure whether he was serious or not, so was quite relieved when she heard him giggle from the other end of the phone as he announced, ‘Sorry, Jude, but you must get these things right. If you’re going to be spending a lot of time round Lockleigh House tennis court then there are certain basic points of protocol you must understand.’
‘And who says I’m going to be spending a lot of time round Lockleigh House tennis court?’
‘I do. Anyway, the court’s at seven forty-five, first booking of the day. Under normal circumstances I’d say I’d pick you up, but I’m not quite sure what my movements will be that morning, so could you meet me at the court?’
