A year had passed. Jez's tennis had improved - a little. When it came to dedication and effort, you could not fault him. It was a Thursday evening in mid-August and the sun's batteries were nearly exhausted as Jez continued to practise his serves. The lights went on in the clubhouse where a committee meeting was in progress.

When it came to 'Other Business', everyone went quiet. It was time to go home. Gill opened her mouth to speak and Mike glared at her. A busy moth fluttered against the window pane and vanished, then

bulb. As Brian recapped the action points, the moth collided
again with the light bulb and fell in a
frantic spiral all the way
down to the
floor!


Mike Reynolds was a thickset man in his mid-forties. He sported bushy sideburns and a lugubrious droopy moustache that had the effect of making him seem gloomy even when he was smiling. This was a pity really because he actually had a good sense of humour. Mike's second wife, Gill, was the club's membership secretary. Unkind acquaintances of the pair suspected that Mike had married her because she had inherited a small fortune from a rich uncle, but Mike always refuted this with as much indignation as he could muster, which was not a lot actually. He maintained, of course, that he would have married her no matter who had left her the fortune.

On court, Mike had the demeanour of a cunning predator. He prowled around the court with a mixture of stealth and power, ensnaring his victims with dinks and spins, pouncing at the net to deliver the coup de grace. Off court, he was more like a punning creditor. To my knowledge, he never actually lent anybody anything, but you always kind of felt you were in his debt, that you owed him something. His puns were notorious. They made Brian cough like a barking seal. If anyone mentioned eating breakfast, he would say they were "sad" and when they enquired why, he explained "it's a mourning meal". If you asked him about his father, who had been a baker, he would describe him disparagingly as "a bit of a loafer" who nevertheless earned "plenty of dough". Equally notorious for cheating at cards, he once deflected an accusation of dealing himself extra cards with the remark "What's the big deal?".

Mike sort of "adopted" Jez when he first joined the club, partly because Jez laughed at his puns and partly because he thought there was something about Jez that marked him out as special. Whatever it was that was special about Jez, it was something Mike intended to profit from. Jez initially welcomed Mike's support. Actually he depended on it, as there were several senior members of the club who had taken a dislike to him, objecting to his "pirate-like" appearance, not to mention his two-handed backhand. In a matter of just a few weeks, Jez felt really indebted to Mike, especially as he acted as a buffer between him and Gill, who had absolutely no time for him whatsoever.

"Guys!" exclaimed Jez, seeing the committee members coming out of the clubhouse. "I've got to show you my new serve!"

"Another one?" sneered Gill.

"Give him a chance, Gill," said Mike, adopting his customary role of peacemaker.

"Why should I?" snorted Gill. "Jeremy, I've been meaning to speak to you about wearing non-recognised tennis clothing."

Jez ran his hands over his crumpled sci-fi T-shirt, adopted a melancholy expression and nodded. "I know," he said. "I really must speak to Tracey about her ironing. I barely recognised it myself!"

Brian coughed.

"Let's see this serve, then!" said Mike.

Jez stepped up to the baseline, bounced the ball several times and coiled his body. Unfortunately, the toss was far too high and he temporarily lost sight of the ball in the gloom. Groping for it with his racket, he over-adjusted his feet, tripped over a trailing shoelace and uncoiled dramatically into a heap on the ground. "Help!" he screamed, his hands scrabbling at the court in front of him. "I've gone blind!"

Mike helped him to his feet. "Your bandana's slipped over your eyes, Jez," he said.