"Can I help you?" asked the shop assistant.

"No thanks. Just looking," replied Jez. "Do shop assistants make you feel uneasy or what?" he asked rhetorically when the assistant went back to stalking them on the other side of the trophy display. "They ask if they can help you, but make you feel like you're intruders!"

It was late afternoon and the shopping mall was full of people, but paradoxically quiet. Everybody seemed to stop rushing about once they entered the mall, so Jez and a few members of the club were in relaxed mood, enjoying their expedition to buy trophies and prizes for the club tournament.

"How's the coaching going, Jez?" asked Neil Radley, as they arrived at the top of an escalator. "Huh? Where is he?"

Looking back, they saw Jez at the foot of the escalator, looking rather disconsolate, staring at the handrail.

"Oh God!" Mike exclaimed.

"What?" said Neil.

"I think he's waiting for his chewing gum to come back round!"

Brian Godfree coughed.

"Actually, he's doing very well at the coaching and he's thinking of going full-time," said Mike, as they waited for Jez.

"He should do that," said Neil. "He's not exactly finding it easy to hold on to a normal job, is he?"

Mike shook his head, "No, not exactly," he agreed.

"Is he still working for that tea company? Brooke Bond, isn't it?"

Mike grinned, "No, he kept taking coffee breaks!"

Brian was still coughing and wheezing as Jez emerged at the top of the escalator.

"Were you having one of your strange interludes?" Neil asked.

"No, I was just feeling a bit queazy," said Jez. "I think it was that match earlier on. The heat was unbearable and I think I just tried too hard."

"Tried too hard?" asked Neil, eyes wide with incredulity. "You know perfectly well why you're feeling queazy!"

"Why?" asked Jez, defensively.

"Because," said Neil, "you ate all the doughnuts!"

"Yeh, well, we don't have doughnuts very often and anyway I was a bit depressed," said Jez. "We lost love and love, for chrissakes!"

"I know," said Neil. "And while we're on the subject, why exactly were you and Stu using Aussie formation?"

"We used it last time we played those dudes."

"Yes, but how did you get on when you played them last time?"

"Er, well . . . ," mumbled Jez.

"Let me jog your memory," said Neil, holding up his thumbs and forefingers in the form of circles.

"Ah!" said Jez.

It was actually unusual for Jez and Stuart to lose so heavily. Following their promotion to the first team in the spring, they had gone from strength to strength, prompting Jez to adopt a new motto. In his early playing days, "Chaos, panic and disorder!" had been the battle cry every time he took to the court, cap back-to-front, racket spinning on his index finger like one of those disappointing catherine wheels at a firework display. The new motto was "We can, we ought, we will!" and these days the racket span like an aeroplane propellor. Casting his mind back to the morning's match, Jez remembered how silent it had been during the changeover at 0-5 in the second set, just a couple of minutes away from tea and doughnuts. He recalled gazing across the meadow to the well-kept pastures where horses grazed peacefully in the July sun and hearing nothing but some desultory birdsong and a whisper of traffic. He recalled Stuart following his gaze and remarking, "What a beautiful day! Wouldn't it be great if this turned out to be the scene for the greatest comeback in the history of the game!". He recalled his own reply, "Wouldn't it be great if doughnuts turned out to be good for you!"

"Anyway," said Jez. "I'd better let you guys get on with it now. I've got to go to the dentist down the high street. That's another reason I'm not feeling too good."

"Not surprised you need the dentist!" remarked Neil grimly.

"Going to the dentist used to terrify me once," said Brian. "Then I developed a strategy for coping with it. I imagined that I'd been captured by the KGB and they were torturing me, trying to get me to reveal British defence secrets."

"Sounds like a good idea," said Jez. "I'll try it!"