Tennis Shoes (16 page)

‘Barty had bait,' he said. They walked back up the beach.

That was the first of lots of days when Dr. Heath took out a boat. He was never happier. He would sit all day with his line running through his fingers and his pipe hanging out of the side of his mouth.

Jim tried to like fishing, but after a bit there always came a moment when putting worms on to his line made him yawn. Then he would decide to rest. Then he would shut his eyes. When he opened them again, the fish, the worms, and the family were all a bit out of focus. Then he would yawn again. After a time Dr. Heath would notice him yawning and suggest pulling in.

Susan loved being out fishing, but she never wanted to go if Jim did not, so they generally both stayed behind, because, although Jim was never actually seasick, he looked as if he easily might be.

Nicky and David loved fishing. But they were maddening in a boat. They would jump up suddenly. They both were apt to stick their hooks into themselves or other people. They never were clever at putting on their bait. The result was that only one of them was allowed to go at a time. They took turns.

Mrs. Heath always went. She very seldom bothered to fish, but would sit at the end of the boat and look at the sea and the sky, and think how lovely it was to have nothing to do.

On other afternoons they went for picnics. Across the marshes to Herstmonceux or to Pevensey Castle, or to the woods round Hellingly. They tried to go to as many woods as they could, because Agag liked them so much. He liked the beach too, but it did not agree with him very well, because he would eat starfish and then he was sick.

On the afternoons when there was a picnic they all went, including Annie and Pinny. Annie was a grand person to have at a picnic. Living as she had done all her life in caravans, she was wonderful at making a fire. From the moment they came to a place to picnic, it was Annie who took command.

‘Now then, doctor, some nice little dry sticks. A couple of bricks from you, Jim. Don't you bother to go messin' about, mum, let the men do it, I say. What are a lot of men for, if they can't do the fetchin' an' carryin'? Now, one of you men, I want three strong sticks all of a height.' Dr. Heath, Jim, and David would fly around getting her what she wanted. It was grand to see the way she bound three sticks together for a tripod. She was clever about the wind too. By merely licking her finger she knew which way to let the draught run under her fire. Being with Annie on a picnic you felt almost as though you were a gipsy.

Dr. Heath decided to enter the twins and Nicky for the South of England Junior Lawn Tennis Tournament. It was to be held at the Devonshire Park, Eastbourne, in September.

They needed to work. Three or four bathes a day had thrown their eyes out. For three weeks none of them had looked at a racket. They had that sleepy sandy feeling you get from days spent on a beach. The Pevensey holiday (even with grandfather helping) had cost money, so there could not be much hiring of courts. The first thing was to find a wall they could use. They found that about a mile inland. A farmer had a barn. Dr. Heath asked if he might coach the children against it. The farmer laughed.

‘Doan't see why not, surely. Reckon that barn has stood come all weathers for three hundred year. Reckon children playin' ball woan't lay it now.'

Tennis practice was not the only trouble about the tournament. The tennis house, in spite of three ten shillings from Pinny, odd coins from the children, and some extra fees Dr. Heath had received and put in, was in a poor way. So was Susan's racket. It is impossible to give any racket the hard work hers had stood up to all the term and expect it to be anything else. It had, of course, been restrung, and she had used an old one for wall practice. All the same, it was pretty nearly finished. Nicky's racket was not a great deal better. She had, of course, not played at school. In fact, her family found it rather surprising how worn it was. They did not know her and Annie's secret about the practice she put in. As new rackets were out of the question it was decided Susan must share Jim's, and Nicky's should be sent to be restrung. If the worst happened and Jim and Susan had to play their matches at the same moment Susan was to borrow Nicky's. Of course, if they all played at the same time, Susan must just do what she could with her own.

Once they had entered for the tournament they gave up bathing. Instead they started off directly after breakfast for the farm where the wall was and were coached hard by Dr. Heath. Two afternoons a week they drove to some inexpensive hard courts and hired one for an hour. Dr. Heath played with Nicky against the twins. It was hot work for Nicky. As her father could not get about she never stopped running.

Annie, though approving of any amount of hard work for the tournament, would not let them spend all their time practising.

‘Now then, doctor, don't let all this tennis make you forget the fish. You go out for a couple of hours and bring back two good dinners for us all.' Then one day she said: ‘None of you need fix anything for this afternoon, nor for any afternoons till your tournament starts. Goin' blackberryin', we are. God didn't put all that lovely fruit to drop to waste on the ground. What we can't eat now I'll set for jam.'

‘Yes, indeed,' Pinny agreed. ‘Waste not, want not.'

After two days' picking, all the family began to flag. They were so badly scratched it was agony to wash. The sight of Annie with the baskets produced groans all round.

‘Oh, no, Annie! Not to-day!'

But Annie was standing for no nonsense of that sort.

‘Right. Starve if you want to. But there's some as cares.' She looked meaningly at Pinny. ‘Some as would work their fingers to the bone.'

‘You mean pick their fingers to the bone,' Jim objected.

Annie held out a basket to him.

‘Pick or work, it's the same thing. Come on.'

Except on a fishing day Dr. and Mrs. Heath were made to come and pick too. They gave in gracefully. Dr. Heath would grin at the children and get up with a sigh.

‘As Annie says, she and Pinny'll pick for us even if we don't. Can't let them do that.'

There was even worse in store for them all. One morning they were woken by bangs on their doors at five o'clock.

‘What is it, Annie?' Mrs. Heath asked anxiously, supposing it was fire at least.

‘Mushrooms,' Annie said. ‘Lashin's of 'em. Come on, everybody. Can't let good food rot in the fields. There's a cup of tea for you all downstairs.'

‘But, Annie——' Dr. Heath started.

‘Don't “But Annie” me, sir,' she retorted. ‘Food's food. Can't let a lot of gippos get it.'

Luckily for everybody Annie's gippos, or somebody else, found her field. Quite suddenly there were no more mushrooms. To say they were glad is to give a very low idea of how they felt. They were sick enough of picking mushrooms, but they had got to loathe eating them. The day the mushrooms gave out there was stew for lunch. David turned his helping over with his fork. He looked up in triumph.

‘An' never an ed'ble fungi,' he said thankfully.

The Eastbourne tournament was the first the children had played in where grown-up people were playing at the same time. This was one reason why Dr. Heath was so keen they should play in it. As competitors they would be allowed to watch other matches. He said they had got to watch every match they could, as there was no end to what could be learnt in watching good people play.

The children felt very grand walking in and out of the Devonshire Park with their badges on. Their father came with them each day, but he could not watch the matches on the centre courts as they could. He had a season entrance, but it did not provide a seat.

Each morning while the tournament lasted they got to the Devonshire Park at ten o'clock sharp. First they went to the referee's office to sign the attendance-sheet. Then they took up good places to watch the matches. They brought a picnic lunch with them each day and Dr. Heath either drove them on to the downs or to the beach to eat it. After lunch they came back as quickly as possible. They ran to the referee's office. They signed the attendance-sheet. Then they watched matches until tea-time. Sometimes they missed tea and went on watching until it was time to go home.

While they were watching they criticized the play to each other. Even Nicky was sufficiently awed by the grandeur of the players not to speak above a whisper. Jim was tremendously impressed by the service of one of the men.

‘See that, Sukey? You look at his feet. I don't believe it's hitting hard that makes the ball go like that. It's because, as he hits it, all his weight is behind it.'

Susan studied the service. She nodded.

‘It's very good, isn't it. I don't see why you shouldn't practise that. It's something the same as yours means to be in a sort of way, only he doesn't just follow through with his racket, but with all of him. If we get home in time we'll get daddy to take us to the farm and you can practise.'

Nicky sat hunched up glaring at the ball. She played a game with herself. She pretended to be one of the players. She always chose the best. She would put herself into their place. When the ball came over the net she would decide to what place on the court she would have returned it. With the better players she was humiliated to find that they hardly ever agreed with her.

Nicky played her tournament first and no one saw her play it. Her father had gone out to fish. The twins were watching a most impressive singles. They heard Nicky's name called through the megaphone.

‘Oh, I say, Nicky,' Susan exclaimed. ‘Do you mind awfully if we don't come and watch? We do want to see the end of this.'

Nicky got up.

‘Miss Nicky Heath is quite able to play without assistance,' she said proudly, and strutted off.

Nicky's opponent was a girl of fourteen. Perhaps Nicky had not practised enough, or perhaps she missed having an audience, for no one was watching at all, but the girl beat her with the loss of only two games. Nicky came back and joined the others feeling very hang-dog.

‘Well, how did you do?' Jim asked.

Nicky looked proud.

‘We were not at our best. In any case, I didn't care if I won or not.'

Susan looked at her severely.

‘Something awful will happen to you one day when you tell lies like that.' Her voice changed to interest. ‘What was she like?'

‘Fat.' Nicky made a face. ‘With great big legs that looked awful in socks. She got wet when she got hot.'

Jim was the next to play. They all watched his match. He put up a very good show except once more the trouble with his service. This time he was not trying to send a killing first ball, but he was trying the service he had admired on the centre court. Naturally, as he had only practised it for an odd half-hour or so, he was nowhere near mastering it. It was rather a pathetic effort. All the same, by the end of the match he had got some feel of what he wanted. He was only just beaten. His father gave him a lemonade.

‘That service ought to suit you when you've got the hang of it. Stupid to try it out in a tournament, though. But it's shaping. When we get back you must go up to the club and get some practice. Might work at it during the term, when you get a chance. You could do some good if you go on as you are doing.'

On the day when Susan was to play her first match an awful thing happened. Agag was lost.

As dogs go Agag had unusually set habits. Every morning when Annie came down she opened the front door for him and let him out. This early morning walk was no smell, sniff, and saunter. Briskly, like a city gentleman catching the 8.40, he would set off up the road. No one knew where he went, but in about an hour he came home. Obviously, in his mind, this morning walk was what a day in the office is to a man. He felt when it was over he deserved his comforts. He would lie down in his basket with a sigh of exhaustion. He would roll over on to his back. He would wriggle his rug so that it completely covered him. Then he would sleep. Later in the morning he was willing to put in an appearance. He would go for a walk, if a walk were going. In the winter he would leave his basket for a seat by the fire. In the summer he would lie in the sun in the garden. At Pevensey, if nothing better offered, he would find a starfish and eat it. But no matter where he was or what he was doing, at the first note of Annie's ‘Whoop, whoop! Coming over!' he was in the house and sitting by the place where his lunch would be put. He was not allowed his lunch before the family, and if they were late he would look up at them in the most injured way, as if to say:

‘Really, can't a poor tired city man have his meals on time?'

When his dinner came he swallowed it at top speed. Then he would sit down. He would study his empty plate and think over what he had just eaten. If he considered that he had been treated meanly, he had invented his own way of complaining. He would pick his plate up in his mouth and run round the table. He would pause now and again to tap it on the floor to show, not only that it was empty, but there had not been enough in it to begin with. Usually he was lucky. None of the children could resist him when he had his plate in his mouth. Mrs. Heath was tired of saying:

‘Darlings, you'll ruin his figure!'

Dr. Heath always said:

‘The dog has had more than enough. Don't want to make a lapdog of him.'

In the evenings he was either supposed to sit on the floor, or he could go into his basket, which lived in what was called the flower room, though really rubbish room would have been a better name. But Agag was not a dog to bow to the opinions of others. Night after night he would come into the drawing-room and sit down just where he wanted his basket put. First he kept up a series of little whines. Then when these were not attended to, and they never were, he began to bark. Every night the same sort of conversation followed. Mrs. Heath said:

‘Be quiet, Agag. Don't let's give in to him, Pinny. He must learn. If he wants to go to bed he must do it in the proper place.'