29 Jun


TENNIS PLAYER GIRL photo: Tennis Girl TennisGirl-1.jpg

Oh the misery of it!

Paula stared through her back room window at the rain as if seemed to be cast down from the heavens by a cruel deity.

Angel’s tears,” smirked her father.

Daft bastard!” she whispered under her breath.

He heard and smirked again before wandering into the front room to watch football on the huge plasma screen he’d bought for the purpose.

Paula was in her tennis gear because she had planned to go to the recreation ground with Simone and play … tennis.

It wasn’t that she was good at the game, though she did enjoy playing, but she and Simone were magnets to passing lads, and she enjoyed that. She revelled in being watched and admired more for her body than her racquet skills. She had a good body, and knew it. She’d spent long enough gazing in her bedroom mirror urging her breasts to grow that little bit bigger, and they’d responded with a vengeance.

Her little dress was white and so short her dad wouldn’t have let her wear it in public had it not been intended for tennis. He was particular about how much flesh she showed: he knew lads because he’d been one himself and could remember with almost painful clarity some of the things he’d thought of doing.

Only thought, mind you. He’d not been as bad as some, and it was that some that made his heart skip a beat when he thought of Paula wandering the streets dressed in nearly nothing.

She scowled.

The rain fell heavier.

Then there was a brilliant flash of lightning with the accompanying rumble of thunder hard on its heels

The rain beat down with such ferocity she feared for the windows that it crashed against.

She sat on the arm of the occasional chair, just out of range should the worst happen, and sighed.

David would be there, watching, and she rather liked David. He wasn’t one of the more popular boys among boys, but he had the kind of rugged look that appealed, and his short hair was always clean and tidy. She liked clean and tidy. Though, at a pinch, she would have accepted scruffy and dishevelled as long as it was on David. Greasy even. She wouldn’t have been too fussy, not if David was watching her, not if he was applauding her rubbishy shots and looking at her in that way he had about him.

Was the rain slowing down?

No! A vivid flash of lightning seared the neighbourhood, and the thunder was instant. It must be above, she thought, directly above…

And the roar from the front room confirmed it.

Bloody hell!” roared father, “the telly!”

He lumbered into the doorway from the front room.

It’s broken!” he raged, waving the remote control as if it was a broken toy.

What is?” she asked.

The bloody telly!”

It can’t be…” She forced her way past him and stared at the black glass face of their huge screen. It was dead. Deader than dead, by the look of what might have been a wisp of smoke still curling from somewhere behind it.

The lightning…” he groaned. “And they were about to score!”

Who were?” she asked almost absent mindedly as she peered behind the television set and, being practical, checked that it was plugged tightly in the wall socket.

I dunno. Whoever was playing. I”d only just switched it on.”

What are we going to do?” she asked.

I’ll watch it on the spare set, in my bedroom,” decided Dad. “It’s a bit smaller, though, and I’m not that keen on smaller.”

He stalked out of the room, and no sooner had she heard him clump into his bedroom than the big television set came on all on its own. She switched it off: she didn’t like football very much. David didn’t play football. At least she didn’t think he did.

Outside the storm raged to a standstill and, miracle of miracle, a finger of sunlight poked straight into their front room and lit up her heart.

It’s working!” she called upstairs, loud enough not to be heard.

The front doorbell rang and she opened it.

Simone was there. In her whites, terribly tiny skirt and revealing top. But that’s not what made Paula go suddenly pale and a monster start eating her brain from inside her skull.

Draped all over her best friend like he’d always been there was David. Her David! The one boy in the Universe for her! And he was holding Simone’s sweaty fingers as if he actually liked her!

Hello,” smiled Paula, as brightly as she could, which was amazingly brightly considering the red rage roaring around her brain.

Tennis,” smirked Simone. She knew, of course. She must. Paula had said times many that one day she’d be offered a glimpse inside David’s underpants and she’d take it! That was the way she and Simone talked, sometimes, when they were being secretive and daring, both at the same time. Not dirty, but definitely risqué.

I’m watching football,” said Paula. “With dad. It’s a special match.”

But you’re dressed for ten…” began Simone.

I was going to come out,” grinned Paula, “but it is a special match, and then Dad wants to take me to the pub to celebrate…”

To celebrate?” asked David in that gawkish, useless, cowardly voice of his, the one she’d always found so … depressing.

My car,” she smiled. “Yes. For my birthday. My car… Look, I’ll see you around, some time … promise I will…”

And she closed the door on them. She actually managed to close that door on David before the tears streamed down her face and she found herself burying her head in her teddy bear.

Crap match,” groaned her dad from the top of the stairs. “Like watching paint dry, watching those two teams. I’m off to the pub…”

Then he saw her face and the tears.

Come on, pretty Paula,” he said, “I’ll tell you what… get something decent on and you can come too… I’ve never taken you to the pub before and you’re just about old enough for the kind of drink that’ll put a light in those pretty eyes… Sport, eh? Who needs it…”

© Peter Rogerson 29.06.14


2 Responses to “THE SPORTS PEOPLE”

  1. pambrittain June 29, 2014 at 7:52 pm #

    Yep, the pub will make it all better.

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