Page 112 of Ace My Heart

“You know, Joel,” I began as we both stretched and got ready to go to bed, “you’re a great coach. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

He grinned and tweaked me on the cheek.

“Thanks, Stinky. I was thinking earlier that I can’t remember enjoying myself as much as when I’m helping you win games.”

I smirked. “Oh my God, I’m better than sex!” I teased, relieved that we were back in that comfortable place where wecouldtease each other.

“You’re better than sex …” he murmured in agreement as he walked towards his room. Everything south of my navel contracted violently.

He looked back over his shoulder from the doorway of his room. “Sleep well, Stink. You’ve got an American to beat tomorrow.”

The morning air was hot and heavy as I walked onto the court. Joanne Mercer smiled at me from the other side of the net. I’d always liked her – she was friendly to everyone and she was a good winner. I wondered if today was my chance to find out if she was a good loser as well.

She smashed me in the first set, six games to two. I took a break, towelled the sweat off and went back out for another try.

The second set went my way, six four. Joanne maintained her cheery facade even as we went into the deciding set. I wondered if that was a tactic to try and throw me off guard. I breathed deep and positioned myself to receive the ball.

I went into a whole other dimension when I won that final set. I looked up at Joel, who was beaming hugely at me.

“Only one more match between me and that trophy, Sensei,” I teased as we prepared to head back to the hotel. Joel put his hand on the small of my back and ushered me out. We wouldn’t know who I was up against until the other semi-final was played that evening. But since it was narrowed down to two players, Joel decided we’d start discussing both of them.

“Di Gunn is older, she’s trying to make a comeback after having a year off to have a baby,” Joel explained. I nodded impatiently – this was information I already knew.

“That she’s gotten to the semi-final means that she’s very focussed on proving herself. But sheisolder and she’s only been back a couple of tournaments. It’s her home crowd, though, so there’ll be a lot of support for her.”

“What about Heather Roach?” I asked. I didn’t know much about the young Canadian. I hadn’t played her before. I hadn’t seen her play before.

It seemed that Joel didn’t know much about Heather Roach either.

So of course, she was the one that I was facing in the final.

Okay, Mel, you’ve got her number now. She’s got a niggle in her ankle. She seems to be favouring her left leg. Whatever it is she’s definitely not enjoying it when you send her across court. Work her as hard as you can, keep her running back and forth.

I’d noticed Heather limping very slightly when she had to run for the ball. I self-consciously moved my own right ankle around incircles. It was feeling fine, but there was nothing to say that Heather Roach wasn’t over there right now reminding herself about my weak ankle too.

I took a swig of water and searched the stand for Joel. He met my gaze with an intensity that sent tingles thrumming through me. I was running on nothing more than nervous energy anyway – that’s what happens when you’re in a tie breaker inside a tie breaker. What I mean is, we’d each won a set and now on the third we were locked at six games each.

So, there was very little fuel left in the tank. The only thing keeping me going was the knowledge that if I won, I’d won at Wimbledon. I’d never even imagined I’d get to the final, let alone have a shot atwinningit.

I thought about Steve and Natalie, and I prayed silently that the Atheists were wrong, and that they were both watching me from Heaven. I looked up at the watery British sun, sending a silent promise to both of them.This one’s for you.

The bell went off and I walked back onto the court silently. Heather Roach nodded at me across the court.

I served and all thoughts of everything else disappeared – Joel, Steve, Natalie – everything except winning.

Serve, return, forehand, backhand, volley, run, run, run, backhand. That was the extent of what was going on inside my brain. I didn’t even have room to keep score.

I scored a point and the crowd erupted. I looked at the umpire, who was calling the game – I’d won.

I’d won.

I’dWON!

I dropped my racquet right then and there, hands pressed over my heart. Heather Roach was standing at the net waiting for me to come and shake her hand. I practically floated towards her.

“Congratulations, Mel!” Heather greeted me in her mellow Canadian accent. “You deserve this. I’m a big fan of yours.”

“Thanks, Heather!” I said with feeling. It wasn’t often that a competitor was so nice after you beat them.

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