Read Online Break Point by Kate Rigby - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Kate Rigby
Tags: tennis, Manipulation, Wimbledon, Relationships, affair, Derbyshire, obsession, nineties, young woman, nostalgia, competitive, seeds, claustrophobia, carers, gay women, elderly woman, centre court, henman, agassi, rusedski, hengist, graf, venus williams, navratilova, june
Ads: Link
you ask Gwendoline if she minds me
bringing Finbar, my little boy?
"Of course
not," Gwen said when I passed on the message. "It'll be very jolly
having a small child around the place."
I'm just
clearing up the lunch dishes when Karen tumbles in with more cherry
lipstick on her teeth and the four year old Finbar under a
fireman's helmet - both of them overflowing with toys.
Gwen's deep
blue eyes are moving in on Finbar's wide brown ones. "Hello, young
man. And you must be ... ?"
Finbar carries
on with his wide-eyed stare, a slight crease in his
forehead.
"Say hello to
Mrs McMahon, Finbar. Now you're going to be a very good boy while
you're here, aren't you? And this lady is Miss - ? Mrs ...
?"
"Just call me
Bobbie."
Karen licks
her teeth. "Bobbie also cares for Mrs McMahon like mummy
does."
"Is she a
nurse?"
"Yes, that's
right. A sort of nurse."
Finbar sighs
and squats down to his heap of toys. He opens up a plastic
box.
"I can make
you better with this," he says, pulling out a stethoscope, and
going over to Gwen. He prods her a bit roughly in the stomach with
it, which has Karen gasping and clutching her
corkscrews.
"Stop it,
Finbar, at once, otherwise I'll have to confiscate it. I'm so sorry
about that, Gwendoline. It won't happen again."
"Oh, no harm
done. Boys will be boys, and it's so nice to have a child around
the place. Rosemary let me down so badly ... "
Karen pats
Gwen on the arm. "Now don't you go fretting yourself,
Gwendoline."
"How can I
not? She's deprived me of being a grandmother ... "
Gwen stares
with disapproval at the growing disarray on her carpet. "I think
you're going to have to move those toys over a bit, Kathy. They're
causing a bit of an obstruction."
"Oh sure."
Karen shifts the pile wholesale to the side of the room. "She never
contacts you then?"
"Mummy?"
"Who?"
"Your
daughter."
"Mummy? Can I
play in the garden?"
"Nothing for
years."
"So
you could be a
grandmother for all you know."
"Mum my can
I play in the gar-den?"
"I'd know if
I'd got grandchildren."
"MUMMY CAN I -
?
"Don't shout,
Finbar. No you can't. We haven't got time. I have to run Mrs
McMahon to the hospital."
"Why?"
"Because she's
got an appointment to see the physi ... to see someone who helps
make her aches and pains better."
Gwen gives one
of her rare smiles. "The garden's nice and clear now, if a bit
damp. Robina's boyfriend came and did it on Sunday."
"I don't want
to go to the hospital. I want to play in the garden."
"Well, you
can't. You've got to come with mummy and if you're very good I'll
get you a bar of chocolate on the way back."
*
Everything's
all out of sequence this year because of the rain, but the covers
are off and Henman and Courier are out on court warming up, hoping
to carry on their match from yesterday, but it starts to rain
again. Alan Mills is calling them off. When you see him you know
that skies are grey, and starting to drip. You see him and think,
Uh-oh, because you know that any minute you're going to hear those
heart-sinking words, Ladies and gentlemen play is
suspended.
But it's great
that Karen's come, Finbar or not. It's good that she's got a car
and can take Gwen to her physio appointments and things. I can just
see Gwen now. Stripped down to her petticoat and being humped onto
one of them leather beds. They'll be kneading and pummelling her
while Karen waits beyond the curtained-off cubicle with Finbar
who's on his best behaviour because of the promised bar of
chocolate.
The rain
continues at Wimbledon and they decide to show us some tennis from
thirty years ago. Recorded tennis doesn't usually hit the same spot
as live tennis, but this match is something else. Pasarell is
playing Gonzales in a right epic with no tie breaks, no chairs to
sit on between games, and only barley water to drink. The match is
dead quiet and tame. The men are wearing their T-shirts tucked into
their mid-length shorts and they're playing all sort of dainty, and
though one of them is a lot
bringing Finbar, my little boy?
"Of course
not," Gwen said when I passed on the message. "It'll be very jolly
having a small child around the place."
I'm just
clearing up the lunch dishes when Karen tumbles in with more cherry
lipstick on her teeth and the four year old Finbar under a
fireman's helmet - both of them overflowing with toys.
Gwen's deep
blue eyes are moving in on Finbar's wide brown ones. "Hello, young
man. And you must be ... ?"
Finbar carries
on with his wide-eyed stare, a slight crease in his
forehead.
"Say hello to
Mrs McMahon, Finbar. Now you're going to be a very good boy while
you're here, aren't you? And this lady is Miss - ? Mrs ...
?"
"Just call me
Bobbie."
Karen licks
her teeth. "Bobbie also cares for Mrs McMahon like mummy
does."
"Is she a
nurse?"
"Yes, that's
right. A sort of nurse."
Finbar sighs
and squats down to his heap of toys. He opens up a plastic
box.
"I can make
you better with this," he says, pulling out a stethoscope, and
going over to Gwen. He prods her a bit roughly in the stomach with
it, which has Karen gasping and clutching her
corkscrews.
"Stop it,
Finbar, at once, otherwise I'll have to confiscate it. I'm so sorry
about that, Gwendoline. It won't happen again."
"Oh, no harm
done. Boys will be boys, and it's so nice to have a child around
the place. Rosemary let me down so badly ... "
Karen pats
Gwen on the arm. "Now don't you go fretting yourself,
Gwendoline."
"How can I
not? She's deprived me of being a grandmother ... "
Gwen stares
with disapproval at the growing disarray on her carpet. "I think
you're going to have to move those toys over a bit, Kathy. They're
causing a bit of an obstruction."
"Oh sure."
Karen shifts the pile wholesale to the side of the room. "She never
contacts you then?"
"Mummy?"
"Who?"
"Your
daughter."
"Mummy? Can I
play in the garden?"
"Nothing for
years."
"So
you could be a
grandmother for all you know."
"Mum my can
I play in the gar-den?"
"I'd know if
I'd got grandchildren."
"MUMMY CAN I -
?
"Don't shout,
Finbar. No you can't. We haven't got time. I have to run Mrs
McMahon to the hospital."
"Why?"
"Because she's
got an appointment to see the physi ... to see someone who helps
make her aches and pains better."
Gwen gives one
of her rare smiles. "The garden's nice and clear now, if a bit
damp. Robina's boyfriend came and did it on Sunday."
"I don't want
to go to the hospital. I want to play in the garden."
"Well, you
can't. You've got to come with mummy and if you're very good I'll
get you a bar of chocolate on the way back."
*
Everything's
all out of sequence this year because of the rain, but the covers
are off and Henman and Courier are out on court warming up, hoping
to carry on their match from yesterday, but it starts to rain
again. Alan Mills is calling them off. When you see him you know
that skies are grey, and starting to drip. You see him and think,
Uh-oh, because you know that any minute you're going to hear those
heart-sinking words, Ladies and gentlemen play is
suspended.
But it's great
that Karen's come, Finbar or not. It's good that she's got a car
and can take Gwen to her physio appointments and things. I can just
see Gwen now. Stripped down to her petticoat and being humped onto
one of them leather beds. They'll be kneading and pummelling her
while Karen waits beyond the curtained-off cubicle with Finbar
who's on his best behaviour because of the promised bar of
chocolate.
The rain
continues at Wimbledon and they decide to show us some tennis from
thirty years ago. Recorded tennis doesn't usually hit the same spot
as live tennis, but this match is something else. Pasarell is
playing Gonzales in a right epic with no tie breaks, no chairs to
sit on between games, and only barley water to drink. The match is
dead quiet and tame. The men are wearing their T-shirts tucked into
their mid-length shorts and they're playing all sort of dainty, and
though one of them is a lot
Similar Books
