Джон Макдональд - A Flash of Green

“Mrs. Sinnat sure hated to go. It was like he had to drag her. I guess it was it all being so sudden. When that man makes up his mind, he moves fast.”

“I hope the children won’t be too much trouble now that she’s gone.”

“They’re no trouble at all! There’s always somebody with them. You can be sure of that.”

Well... you send them home about five-thirty, will you?”

“I certainly will.”

When she walked back she saw some young people on the beach near the pavilion. She thought others were playing tennis, but when she neared the courts she saw that it was Sammy and Wilma Deegan playing doubles against Angela McCall, Sammy’s sister and Carol Killian. Sally Ann Lesser sat in the shade of a beach umbrella, a thermos jug and a stack of paper cups on the bench beside her. She called Kat over.

“Sit and learn some new words,” she said in a stage whisper. “This is for blood.” She filled a paper cup and gave it to Kat. It was rum and fruit juice, icy cold, alarmingly strong.

Sammy and his sister were excellent players. Wilma tried to kill the ball whenever she could reach it. Carol had a model’s superb grace whenever she was standing still, which was most of the time. When she had to go after the ball, she moved in a curious, floundering, knock-kneed trot and swung at it stiff-armed, turning her face away from the ball as she patted it.

Wilma Deegan was a spare, brown, savage little woman with a withered face and a cap of tight gray curls. She was some ten years older than Sammy. She and Sammy and Sammy’s widowed sister, Angela, and Angela’s strange, shy, frail ten-year-old son all lived well on the royalties from the books and plays Wilma’s first husband had written.

“No tricks today,” Sally Ann said softly. “No parlor routines. But Sammy and Angela will make it come out just right. Victory by a narrow margin for Wilma.”

The players were sweaty. Tennis, Kat thought, like ballet, needs a little distance. Their tennis shoes slapped the asphalt. Their gasps of effort were audible. Carol Killian’s long smooth golden thighs, exposed by her very short shorts, looked splendid when she stood still. When she lurched into her strange half-gallop, the thighs rippled into an unpleasant looseness, her breasts and buttocks bounced, and she made a squeaking sound as she bit her lip and swung the racket.

“Goddammit, stop poaching!” Wilma snarled at Sammy.

“Add here,” Angela said, and crossed to the service court.

“What the hell did you do to Burt last night?” Sally Ann demanded. “He was very upset.”

“Jackie Halley gave him a bad time.”

“Burt said she was disgustingly drunk.”

“He’s wrong, Sally Ann. She was a little high. Mostly she was just angry about Dial Sinnat.”

“Why should she think Burt had anything to do with that?”

“I guess because he has a lot to do with Palmland Development.”

“So do a lot of people. Do you know how many miles of roads there’ll be in the Isles?”

“I have no idea.”

“It’ll be a very substantial contract for somebody. Burt told me last night that he can’t help it if people get so anxious to see it go through they... do unpleasant things to anybody opposing it. He wishes you’d get out of it, dear. He told me so.”

“I couldn’t let Tom down now, even if I wanted to.”

“But he’s such a dreary, solemn type. All those retired Army, they just can’t stop organizing things. And fighting against the fill is really terribly unrealistic this time. Everybody is in favor of it. You know, dear, I sold some very happy little securities so I could put money into this, and I wouldn’t have done that if there was the slightest chance of it falling through. I’m not a gambler. I’m much too stingy. Burt acts worried, but then he always does. Leroy and Martin are supremely confident. Burt was as fidgety as a bride this morning, getting ready to go down and talk to those dreary little commissioners. If you really want the truth of the matter, dear, Dial Sinnat probably spread some tale of persecution so he could ease out and save his face. He’s a shrewd man, you know, and why should he make himself look silly by thrashing around for a lost cause?”

“But I happen to know that somebody...”

“Oh, I wouldn’t deny that some idiot probably called him up and woofed at him. And that’s precisely the sort of thing Di would ignore, unless he was looking for an out. You’re too naive about these things, Kat, darling. It’s a precious quality and I adore it, but it really isn’t very realistic. Di will come back after it’s all died down, and by then you’ll forgive him, because by then it will be perfectly obvious that if he had stayed around, he couldn’t have changed the outcome in the slightest degree.”

“Sally Ann, sometimes you make me so darn mad I want to hit you!”

“People trying to live in a dream world always resent hard facts,” Sally Ann Lesser said patronizingly.

“Set point!” Wilma Deegan yelled. She served to Carol. Carol patted the ball back to her. Wilma drove it into the far corner, past Angela. It hit a good eight inches past the base line.

“Beautiful!” Angela called. Carol Killian looked dubiously at her partner.

“We whupped ’em, pal!” Wilma said to Sammy. She gave him a sweaty hug and they all came off the court, breathing hard, picking up towels, wiping their shining faces.

Angela, the permanent house guest, smiled at her sister-in-law and said, “Willy, you’re putting a lot of top spin on that ball. It comes over real heavy.” Angela was a graceful blonde with sturdy legs and ingratiating manners.

“But she wants to powder everything on our side of the net,” Sammy said, and laughed.

Wilma stopped smiling. “I want to what?”

Sammy stopped laughing. “I meant you got an aggressive spirit, Willy.”

“You’re the one wants to cover the whole damn court.”

“Just half of it, pet. Just half of it.”

“So let me see you cover all of it for a while, darling. You and your sweet sister get on out there and show us some fast singles.”

“Honey,” Sammy said patiently, “it’s almost too brutal a day for doubles. I’m dragging, and I’m sure Angie...”

“But I’d learn so much just watching you and your sister,” Wilma said in a grave tone.

Angela finished her drink, stood up and picked up her racket. “Come on, Sam,” she said and walked out onto the court.

Sammy Deegan hesitated, then followed her. Kat glanced at Sally Ann, and looked away quickly when she saw Sally Ann smirk and wink.

Carol Killian, with her customary lack of contact with the world around her, said, “Golly, I don’t see how they can want to play again so soon. I’m so positively pooped I feel faint almost. They must be in wonderful condition.”

“They’re natural athletes, dear,” Wilma said.

“I’ve never been good at games,” Carol said sadly.

“You’ve never had to be,” Sally Ann said.

Carol looked at her blankly. “Have Sammy and Angie had to be good at games?”

“It’s been a big help to them,” Sally Ann said.

“Get off my back,” Wilma said gently to Sally Ann. She turned and smiled at Kat. “I don’t see you for weeks on end. I hear there’s a big broohah about Grassy Bay. Just don’t propagandize me, dearie. I’ve had to shut Sally Ann up about it. It’s too hot in the summer to get agitated about anything.”

Kat stood up. “I wasn’t going to mention it, Willy. I just dropped off for a drink on my way home.”

Carol stood up quickly and collected her gear. “I’ll walk with you, Kat. I’m so hot and tired I could die. All I want is a bath and a nice nap.” She called goodbye to Sammy and Angela. They waved rackets at her. Kat and Carol walked down the road.