The Pearl of Penang by Clare Flynn (best mobile ebook reader txt) 📕

her friends. It was the first time Evie had been in a large gathering with her husband since their awful post-wedding party at the Penang Club. She looked around and saw several faces she remembered from that day. Douglas had timed their arrival so that they wouldn’t have to wait around for long before the matches began and they went straight to the club house where the draw was being made.

An elderly woman, whom Evie remembered was the widow of a former government official, was making the draw. Evidently she was a benefactor of the tennis club and an active committee member. Doug’s and Evie’s names were drawn after a few minutes. As the portly woman reached into the box to pull out the slip of paper which would determine who they were to play first, Evie could have sworn she exchanged a glance with Veronica Leighton, who was standing on the other side of the room. To Evie’s horror, the woman unfolded the paper and read out ‘Mr and Mrs Arthur Leighton’.

Douglas muttered, ‘It’ll be a short match.’

Evie swivelled to face him. ‘Why do you say that?’

‘Veronica plays several times a week and Arthur’s one of the few players here who can beat me. And I haven’t picked up a racquet in months.’

‘Pessimist!’ she said.

It took Evie a while to get into the rhythm of the match and adjust her play to Douglas’s. They lost the first three games to love. It was impossible to mistake the smug triumph on Veronica’s face. Arthur was an excellent player, hitting deep strokes from the baseline, while Veronica was agile and graceful moving around the court.

As Evie gradually settled down, telling herself to relax and enjoy the sensation of playing again, she began to enjoy it.

They held Douglas’s service, then Veronica served for the second time. Evie was ready for her, returning her opponent’s first service with confidence and winning the point. A series of crisp volleys saw Evie and Doug winning the game. Evie was relishing the feel of a racquet in her hands again. Why had she ever stopped playing? It was exhilarating and a great way to release all her tensions and frustrations. Veronica, struggling to get to the net from the baseline, was confounded when Evie delivered a a succession of short lobs. Veronica grunted in exasperation. The more angry and frustrated she became, the more she fluffed her shots.

The match progressed with Veronica growing increasingly irate at her failure to counter Evie’s service. After a number of unforced errors by Veronica, the Leightons lost the first set six–four.

Evie saw the look of surprise – and what she realised was respect – in her husband’s eyes. Good – it was about time he gave her credit for something. She was secretly thrilled that she hadn’t confessed to winning the tennis singles cup at her school, ten years earlier.

A crowd of spectators had gathered to watch the progress of the match and the unexpected trouncing the Leightons were getting. So far, Arthur hadn’t lost a service game and rarely conceded a point, which was making Veronica’s failings more evident. Douglas too held his own service games so the match came down to the tussle between Evie and Veronica.

Changing ends after another held service by Evie, Arthur, said, ‘Well played, Evie. You’re certainly giving us a run for our money.’

‘A damn good thrashing I’d say,’ said Douglas. Evie felt a glow of pride. Her satisfaction was underscored by the fact that Veronica Leighton’s face was transfigured by anger. The slight woman was unable to match the strength and power of Evie’s groundstrokes and her frustration was increasingly apparent. As Evie smashed another return across the net, the ball bouncing too high for her opponent to reach, she said to herself, ‘That one’s for Mary.’

Veronica began to argue with virtually every line call by the umpire, a retired army officer, who was distinctly unamused. This behaviour earned her a quiet reprimand from her husband and loud murmurings from the crowd.

Then it was over. The second set went to the Barringtons, six–two.

Veronica picked up a stray ball, hitting it broadside straight into Evie’s ribcage, causing her to double over in pain. ‘Frightfully sorry. Didn’t notice you were standing there.’

To Evie’s astonishment, Arthur grabbed Veronica by the arm, jerked her towards him and told her to get her things as he was taking her home.

‘I’m not going home. I’m having a drink. Don’t be a bad sport, Arthur. We have to drink the health of the victorious couple. Surely you’re not going to be a sore loser?’ Her words were spoken with venom.

But Arthur was in no mood to argue and the Leightons left the court.

Evie and Douglas won their next two matches but were knocked out in the final by a young army officer and his former gym instructor wife. There was no sign of the Leightons.

Evie basked in the admiration of Jasmine who insisted on holding onto the runners-up shield on the short car ride home. She secured her parents’ permission to display it in her bedroom, alongside the ribboned medal she herself had won the same day in the egg and spoon race.

16

That night, when Douglas came to her bed, Evie told him she had been to see the doctor. ‘I wanted to be sure before I told you, but it looks like we’re going to have a baby. Apparently, it will be in about six months.’

Douglas’s face was transfigured for a moment by amazement and joy, but to Evie’s horror his expression quickly changed to anger.

‘You’re pregnant and thought it was a good idea to fling yourself around a tennis court all day? What the hell do you think you’re doing! You’re putting my child at risk.’

Evie gaped at him, taken aback. ‘But I asked the doctor and he said exercise was a good thing. He says it’s a lot of old-fashioned stuff and nonsense that pregnant women should go into a kind of purdah.’

‘Going for a gentle