An elderly woman, whom Evie remembered was the widow of a former government official, was making the draw. Evidently she was a benefactor of the tennis club and an active committee member. Doug’s and Evie’s names were drawn after a few minutes. As the portly woman reached into the box to pull out the slip of paper which would determine who they were to play first, Evie could have sworn she exchanged a glance with Veronica Leighton, who was standing on the other side of the room. To Evie’s horror, the woman unfolded the paper and read out ‘Mr and Mrs Arthur Leighton’.

Douglas muttered, ‘It’ll be a short match.’

Evie swivelled to face him. ‘Why do you say that?’

‘Veronica plays several times a week and Arthur’s one of the few players here who can beat me. And I haven’t picked up a racquet in months.’

‘Pessimist!’ she said.

It took Evie a while to get into the rhythm of the match and adjust her play to Douglas’s. They lost the first three games to love. It was impossible to mistake the smug triumph on Veronica’s face. Arthur was an excellent player, hitting deep strokes from the baseline, while Veronica was agile and graceful moving around the court.

As Evie gradually settled down, telling herself to relax and enjoy the sensation of playing again, she began to enjoy it.

They held Douglas’s service, then Veronica served for the second time. Evie was ready for her, returning her opponent’s first service with confidence and winning the point. A series of crisp volleys saw Evie and Doug winning the game. Evie was relishing the feel of a racquet in her hands again. Why had she ever stopped playing? It was exhilarating and a great way to release all her tensions and frustrations. Veronica, struggling to get to the net from the baseline, was confounded when Evie delivered a succession of short lobs. Veronica grunted in exasperation. The more angry and frustrated she became, the more she fluffed her shots.

The match progressed with Veronica growing increasingly irate at her failure to counter Evie’s service. After a number of unforced errors by Veronica, the Leightons lost the first set six–four.

Evie saw the look of surprise – and what she realised was respect – in her husband’s eyes. Good – it was about time he gave her credit for something. She was secretly thrilled that she hadn’t confessed to winning the tennis singles cup at her school, ten years earlier.

A crowd of spectators had gathered to watch the progress of the match and the unexpected trouncing the Leightons were getting. So far, Arthur hadn’t lost a service game and rarely conceded a point, which was making Veronica’s failings more evident. Douglas too held his own service games so the match came down to the tussle between Evie and Veronica.

Changing ends after another held service by Evie, Arthur, said, ‘Well played, Evie. You’re certainly giving us a run for our money.’