When Love Knocks Twice (A Contemporary Love Story) by G I Tulloch

So,”
pronounced Gail. “I could beat you forty years ago. Let's see
if I can beat you now.”
    “ Wait
a minute,” protested Tom. “When did you last play?”
    “ Let
me see,” pondered Gail thoughtfully. “It would have been
ten...twelve... oh, at least fifteen days ago.”
    “ Days
ago! You still play at the club then?”
    “ Well,
yes, we play in the seniors' league.”
    “ Hold
on,” interrupted Tom. “You mean you're still playing
competitively?”
    “ Well
I wouldn't call it competitive really, more a good excuse for a cream
tea and a natter.”
    “ I'll
bet,” reposted Tom sarcastically.
    “ First
to the set then,” suggested Gail. “By the way, you don't
have a heart condition or anything like that do you?”
    “ No,
but I think it might be wise to find the location of the nearest
defibrillator, just in case,” offered Tom.
    “ Wimp,”
accused Gail. “I'll let you serve. You can still serve can you,
at your age?”
    “ Cheeky,”
retorted Tom.
    So
they played, and Tom served first, and promptly lost the first game.
    Come
the second game he discovered he was better at returning the ball
than he was at serving it, that was, until Gail started serving
into the corners and making him run. After several deuces Gail won
that game as well.
    By
the third game, Tom was pleased to note that Gail was as out of
breath as he was, but despite that Gail won it as well. He called for
a time out and they had a drink. Tom suggested a brandy but they made
do with some fizzy energy drinks that were bound to be bad for them.
    Following
the break Tom made a comeback. He won a game amid celebrations that
would have done the Wimbledon finals proud, however the celebrations
obviously wore him out because he only won one more game, Gail
finishing the set six games to two. They agreed that a second set may
be tempting fate too far, so they settled for a coffee and a scone,
and then took a walk down by the shoreline.
    Strolling
along the shore, saying very little, Tom let his hand bump into
Gail's. At the second bump he slipped his hand into her's and was
pleased to note an answering, accepting pressure from her hand. They
walked in silence for a short while, listening to the gulls, grateful
that the cloud bubbling up was giving some relief from the incessant
sun.
    After
a while they sat on a bench and looked out over the Sound to the
mainland, mountains towering in the distance.
    “ What
are we doing here Tom?” started Gail.
    Tom
gave her a puzzled look. “What do you mean, what are we doing
here?”
    “ I
mean, what are we doing here, the two of us, together?”
    “ Well
I know why I'm here. What are you doing here?”
    “ I
don't know,” confessed Gail. “I'm just very
confused.”
“Then let me help you,” suggested
Tom. “You are fed up with routine, you're fed up with being
alone, you wonder if this is it for the remainder of your life, and
the possibility terrifies you. So you've taken the plunge, a chance,
a risk, to get out of the vicious circle, break out of the monotony,
as if in doing so you can arrest the inevitable plunge into old age
by taking another unexpected route, like you can give the slip to Old
Father Time creeping around behind you.”
    “ You're
right,” conceded Gail. “It's a lot of that.”
    “ So,”
continued Tom. “You took a chance with someone in whose company
you're not uncomfortable, and who, for some reason you trust.”
    “ Yes.”
    “ But,”
concluded Tom. “ you have paid no attention to what happens at
the end of the week, when normality beckons. Like having to go back
to work at the end of a holiday, you are putting it out of your mind.
But somewhere in the back of your consciousness there is a niggle
that something is going to hurt.”
    Gail
looked wide-eyed at Tom. “How do you know all these things?”
    “ Because,”
explained Tom. “That's exactly how I feel.”
    “ Well,
thank goodness you're not a mind reader. I was beginning to get
worried. So what