The Tennis Party by Sophie Kinsella, Madeleine Wickham Read Free Book Online

to him . . .’
    ‘I suppose so,’ said Annie. ‘But it doesn’t seem fair, somehow. You shouldn’t just get things because they’re important to you.’
    ‘Shouldn’t you?’ said Stephen. ‘I don’t see why not.’
    Annie thought for a moment, and opened her mouth to reply, but was stopped by the approach of Don and Patrick, striding up the grass bank.
    ‘Well done,’ she said in a hearty voice. ‘What a close match.’
    ‘Wasn’t it just,’ said Don. ‘There were some good rallies there.’
    ‘Especially the last one,’ came Caroline’s voice from behind. ‘That was a corker.’
    Annie looked down, and tried not to giggle.
    ‘Who’s on next?’ she said hurriedly. ‘Is it us?’
    ‘You against Charles and Cressida,’ said Patrick. ‘When they arrive.’
    ‘Tell you what,’ said Annie to Stephen, ‘let’s go and get some practice in.’
    She led Stephen down to the court and they began to knock up. The others watched for a few shots.Annie clearly played competent schoolgirl tennis – but Stephen could barely get the ball over the net.
    ‘Sorry,’ he kept saying. ‘Damn. Sorry, could you get that?’
    Caroline watched as Don’s face relaxed at the sight. Nothing to worry about there, he was clearly thinking; he and Valerie would soon have that two off the court. Suddenly, Caroline detested him intensely.
    ‘Darling, I’m going to go up to the house,’ said Patrick softly, coming over to her. ‘I’ve got a bit of business to look at – and I’ll be there if the Mobyns arrive. All right?’
    ‘I suppose so,’ said Caroline, morosely lighting a cigarette. She couldn’t think why she had looked forward to this fucking party.
    ‘You played really well,’ said Patrick, even more quietly.
    ‘Tell that to your friend Don,’ said Caroline, blowing smoke into Patrick’s face. Patrick shrugged resignedly.
    ‘I know,’ he said. ‘You don’t have to tell me.’
    Caroline watched his stumpy form disappear up the path with a mixture of dislike and resignation. She then turned her gaze to the tennis court. Stephen was preparing to serve. He threw the ball far too high, took back his old wooden racquet in an inexpert swing, and whacked it over the hedge.
    ‘Blast,’ he said. ‘I’d better go and get that.’
    Caroline closed her eyes. What a crew of men. Bloody Patrick, odious Don, and Stephen, who, with his old shorts and stringy legs, was clearly a complete incompetent. She’d always thought he was a bit odd – and now, look at him, couldn’t even play a decent game of tennis, let alone earn enough to buy his wife some proper clothes. She couldn’t think how Annie managed to stay so happy, with that wimp around her the whole time. Then a picture of Patrick came into her mind – and she couldn’t think how she stayed so fucking cheerful herself.

Chapter Three
    Patrick was in his study when the Mobyns’ Bentley pulled into the drive. He glanced out of the window when he heard the low, discreet hum of the engine, and gazed at the distinguished curves of the car with a mixture of envy, resentment and a thudding excitement. He saw the car pause, and glimpsed a blond head looking about as if uncertain of where to park. The natural reaction would have been for him to bang on the study window, shout a greeting and then hurry outside to welcome the family. But Patrick sat where he was. He wasn’t ready yet to see Charles.
    Caroline appeared around the corner of the house, carrying a tray of drinks. She shouted something to Charles, who promptly stopped the engine. The car door opened, and he got out, stretching his legs and looking about him appraisingly. Then the nanny, a dumpy girl of about nineteen, got out of the back. She heaved a large, squashy hold-all out onto theground, and delved back inside the car for the twins – identical blond toddlers, who began walking off in different directions as soon as she put them down. Last to appear was Cressida. Long legs, immaculately