Towards Zero*

“If he wins, Andy and Kim will have to call the baby Davis,” I say to Seb. We’re in the nest in front of the television, and Andy is leading David Goffin 6 – 3, 7 – 5, 5 – 3.  Kim Murray is due to give birth in February.

“Or David,” Seb says, as Andy wins the first point on Goffin’s serve: 0 – 15.

“Or maybe just Davis Cup,” I say, as Goffin sends a forehand into the net: 0 – 30.  “If anyone had told me when I started the blog seventeen months ago, that I would get back together with my great love, and we’d watch our country in the Davis Cup final together, I wouldn’t have believed them.  It’s amazing.”

“My lovely,” Seb says, kissing my forehead, putting his arms round me.

Goffin wins his first point of the game: 15 – 30.  Then he hits the ball wide: 15 – 40.  Andy has two championship points.

“I can’t watch,” I say, pulling the furry blanket up over my eyes.  

“Come on,” Seb says.  “You have to.”

Pushing the blanket down my face, I see Andy hit a backhand return into the net.  We both groan.  The Belgians cheer: 30 – 40.

Goffin serves and the point seems to go on for ever and somehow Andy lobs him and the ball lands just inside the baseline and Seb punches the air and we’re cheering and hugging each other and that’s it.  We’ve won the Davis Cup!

Andy collapses on the clay in disbelief and the rest of the team jump on top of him.

“Let’s celebrate by having a small sleep,” I say to Seb.  It’s been an exhausting match to watch.

The attached photo is the baby fluffy monster doing a bit of writing.

Happy Sunday everyone!

*1944.  By Agatha Christie.  Detective novel containing a tennis player.

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