{"id":826,"date":"2017-04-12T14:12:28","date_gmt":"2017-04-12T14:12:28","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/sophiehannah.wpengine.com\/?p=826"},"modified":"2024-04-19T10:34:05","modified_gmt":"2024-04-19T10:34:05","slug":"the-tennis-church-an-original-short-story-for-christmas","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/sophiehannah.com\/the-tennis-church-an-original-short-story-for-christmas\/","title":{"rendered":"The Tennis Church \u2013 an original short story for Christmas"},"content":{"rendered":"\n[et_pb_section fb_built=&#8221;1&#8243; admin_label=&#8221;section&#8221; _builder_version=&#8221;4.16&#8243; custom_padding=&#8221;0px|||&#8221; custom_css_main_element=&#8221;background: #85ddd4; \/* For browsers that do not support gradients *\/|| background: -webkit-linear-gradient(#85ddd4, #ffe6bf); \/* For Safari 5.1 to 6.0 *\/|| background: -o-linear-gradient(#85ddd4, #ffe6bf); \/* For Opera 11.1 to 12.0 *\/|| background: -moz-linear-gradient(#85ddd4, #ffe6bf); \/* For Firefox 3.6 to 15 *\/|| background: linear-gradient(#85ddd4, #ffe6bf); \/* Standard syntax *\/|| &#8221; transparent_background=&#8221;off&#8221; make_fullwidth=&#8221;off&#8221; use_custom_width=&#8221;off&#8221; width_unit=&#8221;on&#8221; global_colors_info=&#8221;{}&#8221;][et_pb_row use_custom_gutter=&#8221;on&#8221; gutter_width=&#8221;2&#8243; admin_label=&#8221;Row&#8221; _builder_version=&#8221;4.16&#8243; background_size=&#8221;initial&#8221; background_position=&#8221;top_left&#8221; background_repeat=&#8221;repeat&#8221; custom_margin=&#8221;||0px|&#8221; custom_padding=&#8221;||0px|&#8221; make_fullwidth=&#8221;off&#8221; use_custom_width=&#8221;on&#8221; width_unit=&#8221;on&#8221; global_colors_info=&#8221;{}&#8221; column_structure=&#8221;3_4,1_4&#8243;][et_pb_column type=&#8221;3_4&#8243; _builder_version=&#8221;4.16&#8243; custom_padding=&#8221;|||&#8221; global_colors_info=&#8221;{}&#8221; custom_padding__hover=&#8221;|||&#8221;][et_pb_post_title meta=&#8221;off&#8221; admin_label=&#8221;Post Title&#8221; _builder_version=&#8221;4.16&#8243; 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show_border=&#8221;off&#8221; disabled_on=&#8221;on|on|&#8221; admin_label=&#8221;Sidebar&#8221; _builder_version=&#8221;4.16&#8243; header_font=&#8221;|on||on|&#8221; header_font_size=&#8221;32&#8243; header_line_height=&#8221;2.5em&#8221; body_font=&#8221;|on|||&#8221; body_text_color=&#8221;#000000&#8243; body_font_size=&#8221;24&#8243; body_line_height=&#8221;1em&#8221; remove_border=&#8221;on&#8221; global_colors_info=&#8221;{}&#8221;][\/et_pb_sidebar][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][et_pb_row use_custom_gutter=&#8221;on&#8221; gutter_width=&#8221;2&#8243; admin_label=&#8221;row&#8221; _builder_version=&#8221;4.16&#8243; background_size=&#8221;initial&#8221; background_position=&#8221;top_left&#8221; background_repeat=&#8221;repeat&#8221; custom_margin=&#8221;0px|||&#8221; custom_padding=&#8221;0px|||&#8221; make_fullwidth=&#8221;off&#8221; use_custom_width=&#8221;off&#8221; width_unit=&#8221;on&#8221; global_colors_info=&#8221;{}&#8221; column_structure=&#8221;3_4,1_4&#8243;][et_pb_column type=&#8221;3_4&#8243; _builder_version=&#8221;4.16&#8243; background_color=&#8221;rgba(255,255,255,0.5)&#8221; custom_padding=&#8221;40px|7%|7%|7%&#8221; custom_padding_tablet=&#8221;5%|7%|7%|7%&#8221; custom_padding_last_edited=&#8221;on|tablet&#8221; global_colors_info=&#8221;{}&#8221; custom_padding__hover=&#8221;|||&#8221; custom_padding_phone=&#8221;5%|7%|7%|7%&#8221;][et_pb_text admin_label=&#8221;Text&#8221; _builder_version=&#8221;4.24.3&#8243; background_size=&#8221;initial&#8221; background_position=&#8221;top_left&#8221; background_repeat=&#8221;repeat&#8221; hover_enabled=&#8221;0&#8243; use_border_color=&#8221;off&#8221; border_color=&#8221;#ffffff&#8221; border_style=&#8221;solid&#8221; global_colors_info=&#8221;{}&#8221; sticky_enabled=&#8221;0&#8243;]<p><em>This story orignally appeared in the Guardian.<\/em><\/p>\n<p><strong>For Charlie, Christmas with the parents-in-law was something to grin and bear. But an encounter with a long\u2011lost friend would show her selflessness in a different light\u201cI haven\u2019t disappeared,\u201d said the voice on the other end of the line. No hello, no introduction, nothing.<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>\u201cPardon?\u201d said Charlie Zailer. She never normally answered the home phone. Surely nobody below the age of 70 bothered with their landline these days? Charlie had given up doing so as soon as she\u2019d realised that it was always one of those vacuous recorded voices saying something about insurance. Also, the cord had become progressively more tangled, which meant \u2013 after about two years, during which it had come to resemble a knotted plastic cyst \u2013 that you had to lay your cheek against the gungey white plastic on the side of the phone if you wanted to be able to put the receiver to your ear.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI haven\u2019t disappeared,\u201d the woman said again. The strange thing was, Charlie recognised her voice, though she could not have said from where. Maybe she was imagining it.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThis is Charlie Zailer. Did you mean to ring me, or someone else?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThen you\u2019d better tell me who you are and what you\u2019re on about. I was hoping to be told I could get some free, no-obligation legal advice if I\u2019ve slipped a disc on a wet pavement \u2013 no win, no fee.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHave you hurt your back?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo. That was a joke. Actually, I was hoping it would be my mother-in-law ringing to pull out of midnight mass tonight and Christmas dinner tomorrow. But enough about me!\u201d Charlie said pointedly. If the woman didn\u2019t identify herself now, there was something very wrong with her.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI don\u2019t suppose you remember me: Tasha Sisley.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cTasha? No way! Is that really you?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI don\u2019t know,\u201d the woman said doubtfully. \u201cI don\u2019t think so.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYes it is! I\u2019d know that voice anywhere.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI\u2019ve been Natasha Knowles for the past 15 years \u2013 a whole different person.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>From this Charlie deduced that Natasha Knowles did not die her hair black and wear too much black eyeliner, long tasselled skirts, ripped fishnet tights and M\u00f6tley Cr\u00fce T-shirts; that she did not violently rotate her head to a soundtrack of AC\/DC and Faster Pussycat and Hanoi Rocks in a way that somehow made every girl at school wish they could do it as stylishly as Tasha; that she would not lie on a dirty floor beneath the chip hatch of a nightclub, snogging a boy she\u2019d met half an hour before and would never see again, and then go home and cry all night and write ridiculous song lyrics about him that referred to \u201call that we\u2019ve been through\u201d but did not include his name, because she didn\u2019t know it.<\/p>\n<aside class=\"element element-pullquote element--supporting\">\n<blockquote>\n<p class=\"pullquote-paragraph\">Charlie didn\u2019t want to think about it: the lies, the sheer pointlessness and absurdity of the entire performance<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/aside>\n<p>Charlie wished she hadn\u2019t picked up the phone. Tasha Sisley was a pain but she was never boring. Natasha Knowles sounded as if she could manage both quite easily.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cLook, I can\u2019t really talk now \u2013 as I said, parents-in-law on the way, God help me \u2013 but was there something you wanted?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI just rang to tell you that I haven\u2019t disappeared. That\u2019s all.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>The line went dead.<\/p>\n<p>Charlie hung up the phone. She sat and stared at it for a while, half expecting it to ring again straight away. \u201cWhat the hell was that about?\u201d she said out loud. Nobody answered.<\/p>\n<div id=\"apn_display_container_nvj7uuyyp3_apn_expandable_14920060219681976\"><\/div>\n<div id=\"dfp-ad--inline1\" class=\"js-ad-slot ad-slot ad-slot--inline ad-slot--inline1 u-h ad-slot--rendered\" data-link-name=\"ad slot inline1\" data-name=\"inline1\" data-mobile=\"1,1|2,2|300,250|fluid\" data-desktop=\"1,1|2,2|300,250|620,1|620,350|fluid\" data-google-query-id=\"CLyBzMaLn9MCFaehUQod2CkArw\"><\/div>\n<p>******<\/p>\n<p>She told Simon about it as they walked to church in the dark later. Not that he was listening properly; he was too nervous about the imminent encounter with his parents, knowing his mother would be nearly in tears throughout, and his father catatonic with terror. Fun times.<\/p>\n<p>This whole midnight mass charade was hideous\u2026 just appalling. How could she have let herself get into this mess? Charlie didn\u2019t want to think about it: the lies she\u2019d told, the sheer pointlessness and absurdity of the entire performance\u2026<\/p>\n<p>Tash Sisley was a convenient distraction.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cGuilt trip,\u201d Simon summed up, when Charlie had finished her story.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYes, that\u2019s what I thought: she must still be in touch with Annabel, and Annabel must have mentioned I sent her a Christmas card \u2013 only because she insists on sending me one every year! \u2013 and Tash must have thought, \u2018Damn cheek, Charlie sending Annabel a card and not me when they weren\u2019t even that close and we were.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIt\u2019s pointless, everyone sending bits of paper to one another,\u201d said Simon.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI don\u2019t think that was it, though. A guilt trip is the only thing that makes sense, and I can\u2019t think what else it could have been \u2013 but I don\u2019t think that\u2019s what it was. It sounded\u2026 I don\u2019t know. It was just very weird.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDo me a favour \u2013 don\u2019t tell my parents about it. Tonight\u2019s going to be bad enough without adding anything else into the mix.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Charlie made a weary noise of assent. Who was she to call anyone else\u2019s behaviour weird, given her own life? It annoyed her that, without having to ask, she understood why Simon didn\u2019t want her to mention the Tash mystery to Kathleen and Michael; it was proof that she had been fully inducted into the Waterhouse family, dysfunctional prison that it was. It would have disturbed Simon\u2019s parents greatly to learn that their son was married to the sort of woman who received mysterious phone calls and allowed them to end without extracting the certainty that must be present in all things. They regarded Charlie as a loose cannon as it was. Kathleen had used those very words about her once, lowering her voice in order to call her daughter-in-law such a shocking name. It had struck Charlie as an odd description of someone who was happily married and had been in the same job for many years, but she\u2019d been quite flattered, and had annoyed Simon for months afterwards by jumping out at him from corners and shouting, \u201cI\u2019m a loose cannon!\u201d in his face.<\/p>\n<div id=\"dfp-ad--inline2\" class=\"js-ad-slot ad-slot ad-slot--inline ad-slot--inline2 ad-slot--rendered\" data-link-name=\"ad slot inline2\" data-name=\"inline2\" data-mobile=\"1,1|2,2|300,250|fluid\" data-desktop=\"1,1|2,2|300,250|620,1|620,350|fluid\" data-google-query-id=\"COfchMeLn9MCFcqgUQodUvEIqw\"><\/div>\n<p>Once while at his parents\u2019 house, Charlie had noticed that her credit card was missing from her wallet, and said breezily, \u201cOh, I think it\u2019s in my other bag,\u201d and carried on eating her lunch, instead of running to the car and driving home to check straight away that it was safe. What if a burglar was breaking in and stealing it right now? What if it wasn\u2019t at home, but in the hands of an international network of sex-chat-line ringer-uppers? Kathleen Waterhouse never quite put these worst case scenarios into words, but Charlie could read them in her wide, scared eyes.<\/p>\n<p>The credit card had been in the other bag, safe and well, and Charlie had even rung Kathleen as soon as she\u2019d arrived home to let her know, but it was way too late by then; her mother-in-law had already marked her down as someone who was cavalier about losing things, and, even worse, someone who owned a credit card and talked about it as if it weren\u2019t shameful to buy more than one could afford.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cTasha said she didn\u2019t think she was really herself,\u201d Charlie told Simon. \u201cDo you think she might be having some kind of crisis?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI don\u2019t know. Let\u2019s just get through ours, shall we?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>******<\/p>\n<p>Charlie was not religious at all, having been brought up by ex-hippy atheists, and she had held no strong opinions about churches until Kathleen and Michael Waterhouse had started the whole midnight mass battle, but now she had a strong opinion: she liked their church, the big Catholic church in Rawndesley, and she hated the church they were going to tonight, the one that was supposed to be hers: St Anselm\u2019s in Spilling.<\/p>\n<div id=\"dfp-ad--inline3\" class=\"js-ad-slot ad-slot ad-slot--inline ad-slot--inline3 ad-slot--rendered\" data-link-name=\"ad slot inline3\" data-name=\"inline3\" data-mobile=\"1,1|2,2|300,250|fluid\" data-desktop=\"1,1|2,2|300,250|620,1|620,350|fluid\" data-google-query-id=\"CP7kn8iLn9MCFQeiUQodk7QMjw\"><\/div>\n<p>She\u2019d picked it because it was closest to where she and Simon lived. If she was going to have to pretend to have a church, it might as well be near home, she\u2019d thought, but St Anselm\u2019s was dingy and uninspiring, and the congregation brought to mind an old people\u2019s home and a hospital outpatients department in equal measures.<\/p>\n<p>Simon hated it too. \u201cLook at this place,\u201d he muttered as he opened the gate and walked into the churchyard, 45 minutes early. His parents would be half an hour early \u2013 they always were \u2013 and would worry, if Simon and Charlie were not already there, that some awful fate had befallen them. (It would never occur to Kathleen and Michael Waterhouse that they themselves were the awful fate, and so they continued to befall all comers \u2013 their son, his poor sap of a wife; it was tragic.)<\/p>\n<p>\u201cLook at this!\u201d Simon had walked back out through the churchyard gate and was standing on the pavement, shaking his head at a large display board that was just inside the wall of the church. \u201cJesus!\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHe\u2019s not born till tomorrow, so you might as well show me,\u201d said Charlie.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cRead that.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>On the board was a sign in capital letters: \u201cLOVE PEOPLE AND USE THINGS, NOT LOVE THINGS AND USE PEOPLE.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cCan you see what\u2019s wrong with that?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThe caps-lock nutter look?\u201d Charlie guessed. Evidently it was the wrong answer. \u201cWhat, you mean the message? It\u2019s unrealistic, yes, but what do you expect? It\u2019s a church. Churches have to pretend people are capable of being something other than venal and stupid, don\u2019t they, or else what\u2019s the point of them?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo, not that either. I can\u2019t believe you can\u2019t see it. It should say \u2018don\u2019t\u2019. \u2018Love people and use things, don\u2019t love things and use people.\u2019 It\u2019s illiterate!\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Charlie sighed. \u201cOK, I\u2019m going inside to sit on a\u2026 pew, pulpit, whatever it\u2019s called. You coming or not?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo one would say, \u2018Brush your teeth before you leave the house, not go to work with rank breath.\u2019\u201d Simon continued to stare at the sign.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cCome inside and find somewhere to sit, not stay outside pursuing pointless conversation,\u201d said Charlie. \u201cSimon, honestly, who cares? You\u2019re taking it too literally. It\u2019s just a shorthand way of saying \u2018To love people and use things is the right approach, not to love things and use people.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIf that\u2019s what it wants to say, why aren\u2019t those the words on the poster? We can\u2019t keep coming here, Char. It\u2019s an appalling place.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cSimon, don\u2019t overreact. I mean, I hate it too \u2013 I\u2019d be more than happy not to go to midnight mass at all! \u2013 but you\u2019re getting steamed up about a poster.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI wish I had a black marker pen on me. I\u2019d put a line through that \u2018not\u2019 and \u2013\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cSimon, if you don\u2019t put a whole drawer-full of socks in it right now, I\u2019m going to burrow under one of those gravestones and\u2026 Oh, my God!\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Charlie stood in silence for a few seconds.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThat\u2019s so weird. Tasha Sisley, the school friend I was just telling you about\u2026 I can\u2019t believe I didn\u2019t remember this before! It was, like, the main thing about our friendship. The tennis church!\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhat\u2019s that?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThere was a church opposite our local library. Neither of us ever went to it for religious reasons, obviously, but we used to meet boys from St Mark\u2019s, a nearby boys\u2019 school, round the back of it. Don\u2019t worry, I\u2019ll spare you the details,\u201d Charlie said quickly, seeing Simon wince. \u201cThe graveyard was our favourite summer party venue \u2013 there were more empty cider bottles than dead bodies there by the time we\u2019d finished. Me and Tash were the only ones from our school who went.\u201d The loose cannons. Was Tasha still a loose cannon now that she was Natasha Knowles? Had she sort of hinted that she was anything but, or was Charlie misremembering the conversation?<\/p>\n<div id=\"dfp-ad--inline4\" class=\"js-ad-slot ad-slot ad-slot--inline ad-slot--inline4 ad-slot--rendered\" data-link-name=\"ad slot inline4\" data-name=\"inline4\" data-mobile=\"1,1|2,2|300,250|fluid\" data-desktop=\"1,1|2,2|300,250|620,1|620,350|fluid\" data-google-query-id=\"CKz3zdiLn9MCFcmGUQodiSYNrg\"><\/div>\n<p>\u201cWe\u2019d tell our parents we were meeting at the library to do our homework, but really we were meeting at the Tennis Church for dubious recreational activities. We called it the Tennis Church because it had this funny framed tapestry on one wall. We could see it through the window \u2013 we never went in. It was two upright tennis rackets, and in between them it said, \u2018It is not enough to receive. You also have to serve.\u2019 We thought it was stupid and corny, but the name stuck: the Tennis Church.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHere they are,\u201d said Simon.<\/p>\n<p>Again, Charlie didn\u2019t need to ask what he meant. His parents were parking just behind where he stood. He had lingered too long on the pavement, and it was likely they had noticed him looking at the poster on the board. In the car, Kathleen would have said to Michael at least three times, \u201cWhy is Charlotte in the churchyard and Simon there on the pavement? What\u2019s the matter, do you think?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Simon would be determined not to tell them what the matter was in case the poor grammar sent them into paroxysms of Wrong Church Panic.<\/p>\n<p>*******<\/p>\n<p>Charlie was woken on Christmas morning by the sound of her phone ringing next to her ear. It took a few unsuccessful attempts before she was able to grab it and press the right button. She had an enormous groan inside her that needed to come out \u2013 a severe in-laws hangover that needed to express itself \u2013 and now it would have to wait.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIs that Sergeant Charlie Zailer?\u201d a male voice asked.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYeah. Is that Santa? If it is, you\u2019ve fucked up. I put \u2018massive lie-in\u2019 on my list, and I\u2019ve been pretty good, too, despite secretly wishing I could pour liquid concrete down the drains of nearly everyone I know.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He laughed. \u201cSorry if I woke you, today of all days. It\u2019s DC Ryan Giles from Nottingham police. I\u2019m ringing about someone I believe you know. Her husband\u2019s reported her missing, and he mentioned that you and she used to be friends some years ago. Apparently she still talks about you quite a bit \u2013 when you\u2019ve been on the news and the like \u2013 so I just thought it was worth a call in case \u2013\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cTasha. Is it Tasha Sisley?\u201d Charlie hauled herself into an upright position and poked Simon in the side. \u201cNatasha Knowles, sorry. I think that\u2019s her married name.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cTell me later,\u201d Simon mumbled into his pillow. \u201cNot wake me up now.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Charlie giggled. To Ryan Giles, she said, \u201cWe haven\u2019t been in touch since\u2026it must be 1988, and then, out of the blue, she rang me yesterday.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYesterday? Well, that\u2019s good news at least. She disappeared three days ago. What did she say to you, then \u2013 on the phone?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cSomething bloody odd that I\u2019ve been puzzling over ever since. She said, \u2018I haven\u2019t disappeared.\u2019 Those were her first words. I asked who she was, and she told me, and then she said it again: that she hadn\u2019t disappeared. And that was it: she put the phone down, end of conversation.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNothing else at all?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhen I asked her if it was really her, she said, \u2018I don\u2019t know. I don\u2019t think so.\u2019 Do you think she might be in trouble?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWe don\u2019t know,\u201d Ryan Giles said. \u201cAll we know is she\u2019s got three kids, all miserable and desperate to have their mum back \u2013 especially with it being Christmas.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Automatically, Charlie wondered if these strangers would take Simon\u2019s mum in lieu of their own. No, no of course they wouldn\u2019t. Kathleen Waterhouse would arrive in only a few hours for Christmas dinner, and if the brussels sprouts weren\u2019t cooked \u201cproperly\u201d (which meant boiled until they were indistinguishable from nasal mucus) then she would cry and pretend already to have whatever presents Charlie and Simon had bought her; it had happened before.<\/p>\n<aside class=\"element element-pullquote element--supporting\">\n<blockquote>\n<p class=\"pullquote-paragraph\">Charlie heard Simon answering his mum and tried not to think about grey liquid concrete solidifying in her drains<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/aside>\n<p>\u201cHusband\u2019s going to pieces too,\u201d Ryan Giles said. \u201cThey run a business together, which will fold if she doesn\u2019t turn up soon. I can\u2019t see Paul being able to function unless he knows what\u2019s happened to Natasha.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhat kind of business?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Giles chuckled. \u201cRaw food restaurant. Fools and their money, eh?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI wonder why she rang me,\u201d Charlie mused aloud. What did \u201cI haven\u2019t disappeared\u201d mean? Did it mean \u201cDon\u2019t worry about me\u201d or \u201cI still exist \u2013 somewhere\u201d? Had Tasha chosen to leave her family? \u201cI mean\u2026 do you think she might have known that her husband would mention me, and that you might contact me? Maybe she wants them to know she\u2019s OK.\u201d<\/p>\n<div id=\"dfp-ad--inline5\" class=\"js-ad-slot ad-slot ad-slot--inline ad-slot--inline5 ad-slot--rendered\" data-link-name=\"ad slot inline5\" data-name=\"inline5\" data-mobile=\"1,1|2,2|300,250|fluid\" data-desktop=\"1,1|2,2|300,250|620,1|620,350|fluid\" data-google-query-id=\"CMaV3dqLn9MCFcKkUQodUBAEtg\"><\/div>\n<p>\u201cThen why use you? Why not send hubby a text?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Simon\u2019s phone rang. Charlie heard him answering his mum \u2013 yes, 1.30 was perfect, no, no need to bring anything \u2013 and tried not to think about lovely smooth grey liquid concrete solidifying in Kathleen Waterhouse\u2019s drains. The conversation that was taking place over the phone now had already been had four times at least, including twice last night \u2013 once in the church and once on the pavement. Simon\u2019s mother regarded no arrangement as made unless one constantly checked and reminded and rehashed.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cBecause sometimes you need to be at one remove or else you\u2019ll go mad,\u201d said Charlie, \u201cMy husband\u2019s currently having a conversation with his mother which I can just about stand because he\u2019s doing it, but if I had to do it?\u201d She shook her head vigorously, knowing perfectly well that Ryan Giles couldn\u2019t see her.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhat?\u201d said Simon. \u201cMum, we\u2019ve been through this. No, Charlie is. I can\u2019t, and I don\u2019t want to. She\u2019s a better cook than me. What? That was two years ago, Mum!\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Charlie mimed turning off a gas ring. Simon nodded.<\/p>\n<p>Unbelievable. Once Charlie had been making some pasta while talking to Kathleen, and she\u2019d forgotten to turn off the gas after she\u2019d finished cooking. For the next month and a half, every night, Kathleen had rung Simon at between eleven and midnight, unable to sleep without checking his kitchen appliances were not aflame.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhy don\u2019t I come to Nottingham now?\u201d Charlie heard herself suggest to Ryan Giles.<\/p>\n<p>******<\/p>\n<p>Charlie didn\u2019t warm to Paul Knowles. Red-eyed, tearful and sleep-deprived, he seemed nonetheless unwilling to admit anything was wrong. \u201cI\u2019ve got a beautiful house, three fantastic girls, a lovely wife, a successful business,\u201d he told Charlie and Ryan Giles. \u201cSeventy people we employ now. I\u2019ve got two stunning cars, one a Porsche Boxter Roadster.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Charlie wondered if she was supposed to be indignant, as Knowles was, that a not-ideal event had happened in the life of a man as blessed as him, as if it were somehow against the natural order of things. You haven\u2019t quite got your wife at the moment, though, have you? she felt like saying. And 70 employees? Do they all crowd round to hit you every day? I would if I worked for you.<\/p>\n<p>His and Natasha\u2019s three daughters \u2013 Tabitha, 13; Lily, 11; Elodie, 6 \u2013 sat around him and stared at Charlie and Giles hopefully, as if at any moment one of them might pull Tasha out of a hidden pocket.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou should have rung the police straight away when Natasha contacted you,\u201d Knowles snapped at Charlie. \u201cShe clearly said what she said to you under duress. She might be dead now, thanks to your lack of initiative!\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Elodie started to cry. Tabitha squeezed her arm and said, \u201cDon\u2019t worry, Ellie. Mummy\u2019s not dead, I promise.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>The Christmas tree in the corner of the room was surrounded by immaculately wrapped presents, all untouched. The lights had not been switched on \u2013 for how long, Charlie wondered.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI am the police,\u201d she reminded Knowles. \u201cIf I raised an alarm every time something odd was said to me&#8230;\u201d She stopped. This was odd; she was being distracted from real-time strangeness by pointless recriminations about past strangeness. Everything about Paul Knowles jarred. That he would say what he\u2019d just said in front of his daughters, not thinking how it might make them feel\u2026<\/p>\n<p>\u201cMr Knowles, can we talk for a minute in private?\u201d Charlie asked.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhy?\u201d Tabitha, the 13-year-old, pounced on the question as if it had been a threat. \u201cAre you going to wait till we\u2019re gone and ask Dad if he and Mum had an unhappy marriage?\u201d<\/p>\n<div id=\"dfp-ad--inline6\" class=\"js-ad-slot ad-slot ad-slot--inline ad-slot--inline6 ad-slot--rendered\" data-link-name=\"ad slot inline6\" data-name=\"inline6\" data-mobile=\"1,1|2,2|300,250|fluid\" data-desktop=\"1,1|2,2|300,250|620,1|620,350|fluid\" data-google-query-id=\"CL2zyN2Ln9MCFQKlUQodVIANTA\"><\/div>\n<p>Pretty much, yes.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWe\u2019re a happy family,\u201d said Lily, the middle child. Elodie and Paul Knowles nodded their agreement.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThere was the row before Mum disappeared, though,\u201d Tabitha muttered, staring down at her hands.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhat row?\u201d Ryan Giles asked.<\/p>\n<p>Paul Knowles laughed. It sounded false: as if he were auditioning for the part of Santa Claus: Ho-ho-ho. \u201cQuite a bit before Mum disappeared, though, wasn\u2019t it, love?\u201d To Charlie and Giles he said, \u201cTabby makes it sound as if it was immediately before and probably the catalyst, but it was weeks earlier, and I\u2019d forgiven her, and everything was fine. Really, her disappearance can\u2019t have had anything to do with that.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She hasn\u2019t disappeared. She told me specifically that she hadn\u2019t. She\u2019s gone somewhere, that\u2019s all.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI\u2019d still like to know what Mum did,\u201d Tabitha said quietly. \u201cDid she cheat on you?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhat?\u201d Knowles looked disgusted. \u201cNo. It was nothing like that, nothing serious.\u201d He sighed. \u201cA few weeks ago, back in November, I asked her what she wanted for Christmas. I wanted to get her something really special, I told her \u2013 money no object. It\u2019s been a stressful year for both of us. The business has gone international and we\u2019ve both been working all hours, and you know how it gets \u2013 you compete for who\u2019s the most ground down and knackered. You shouldn\u2019t, but you do. Anyway, I asked her, and she tensed up and went all weird, like there was something important she wanted to say. She said, yes, there was something special she\u2019d wanted for ages. Great, I thought. Sorted. Then she went to the kitchen, and I followed her, and I watched her pull an A4-sized plastic folder out of a packet of Cheerios. Here, do you want to see it? I\u2019ll get it. I\u2019m sure it\u2019s still there \u2013 she stuffed it back in after things turned nasty.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou should have told me this before, Mr Knowles,\u201d said Ryan Giles as Knowles left the room.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAnd us,\u201d said Tabitha angrily.<\/p>\n<p>After a few minutes, Knowles returned with the plastic wallet in his hand. He passed it to Ryan Giles. Charlie shuffled closer to him on the sofa so that she could see the contents. It was a bundle of what looked like cuttings: pages ripped out of papers, or printed from the internet\u2026<\/p>\n<p>Hotels. They were all adverts for or information pages about hotels \u2013 all in England, by the look of it \u2013 most with pictures of the hotel swimming pool prominently featured.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cShe told me she\u2019d been collecting them for years,\u201d said Knowles. \u201cThe best present she could ever imagine getting, she said, was one night away in a nice hotel with a swimming pool on her own. That\u2019s right \u2013 without me and the kids.\u201d He laughed in disbelief. \u201cI offered to take us all to a five-star hotel for a fortnight, anywhere she wanted! Dubai, Mexico, Florida \u2013 take your pick, I said. But, no, lovely though that sounded, it wasn\u2019t what Natasha had been fantasising about and ripping pages out of colour supplements about. It wasn\u2019t her special present.\u201d He spat the two words out as if he could hardly bear to say them. \u201cThat had to be just one night \u2013 \u2018Only one night, Paul,\u2019 she kept saying, as if the shortness of it made it better! \u2018With maybe the afternoon before and the morning after \u2013 lunchtime to lunchtime \u2013 so I\u2019d be away for two days and one night.\u2019 Oh, she\u2019d really put some thought into it!\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Knowles exhaled slowly. \u201cAs I say\u2026we got past it, she apologised, it\u2019s water under the bridge now. It was just a bit hurtful to find out that her top favourite fantasy involved, basically, escaping from me and the girls. What?\u201d Seeing the look on Charlie and Giles\u2019s faces, he said quickly, \u201cIf you\u2019re going to say that\u2019s what this is \u2013 that she\u2019s escaped permanently \u2013 you\u2019re very wrong. Natasha would never do that.\u201d<\/p>\n<div id=\"dfp-ad--inline7\" class=\"js-ad-slot ad-slot ad-slot--inline ad-slot--inline7 ad-slot--rendered\" data-link-name=\"ad slot inline7\" data-name=\"inline7\" data-mobile=\"1,1|2,2|300,250|fluid\" data-desktop=\"1,1|2,2|300,250|620,1|620,350|fluid\" data-google-query-id=\"COKKl9-Ln9MCFcunUQodshUN9A\"><\/div>\n<p>*****<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHi.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHow\u2019s it going there?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cGood so far. Well, relatively speaking. Hang on a sec, I\u2019ll close the door.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Charlie waited.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYeah,\u201d said Simon a few seconds later. \u201cIt\u2019s easier when I\u2019m the only person they\u2019re driving mad.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDid you green-mush the sprouts? I bet you did, didn\u2019t you? Appeaser.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWho cares? Tastes the same. Did you find your friend?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNot yet, but I think I know where she might be. Though in one way it\u2019s unlikely, because\u2026 Look, can I ask you something? Don\u2019t laugh. Do churches ever have bedrooms where people can sleep if they need to get away from home?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Simon laughed. \u201cI don\u2019t think so.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI keep thinking: Tash rang me for a reason. She must have known her husband would tell the police that she had a police officer friend, and that they might contact me \u2013 so she\u2019d have known I\u2019d find out that she wasn\u2019t where she was supposed to be: with her family on Christmas Day. She\u2019ll have guessed, probably, that I\u2019d remember that whenever she and I weren\u2019t where we ought to be, we were meeting at the Tennis Church. I think that\u2019s where she might be.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHave you told her husband that, and the police that are trying to find her?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Charlie laughed. \u201cOf course not,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n<p>******<\/p>\n<p>The Tennis Church was still there. It was in darkness by the time she arrived, so she couldn\u2019t see if the tennis racket tapestry was still up on the wall. She muttered to herself, \u201cNot enough to receive, also have to serve. And vice versa, right?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>There was no sign of Tasha anywhere near the church. Catching sight of the library opposite on her way back to her car, Charlie thought to herself, \u201cMaybe she\u2019s in there, finally doing all that homework we lied about doing in the mid-1980s \u2013 writing that essay for Miss Goodacre about glaciated valleys.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Charlie stopped walking. The library was no longer a library, it seemed. It had become the Library Hotel. There was a large sign outside it, with a picture of a swimming pool.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThey should have put one in 30 years ago,\u201d she thought to herself as she crossed the road. \u201cWe might have actually gone there.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>******<\/p>\n<p>There was no Natasha Knowles staying at the hotel, but Charlie had no trouble finding a Tasha Sisley.<\/p>\n<p>The two of them sat at the bar on long-legged stools, drinking Cokes \u2013 not even diet, as it was Christmas Day. Some sugar for special treat day! Aren\u2019t we lucky?<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI can\u2019t go back, Charlie. I can\u2019t go back to the girls without going back to him.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cSorry, I just don\u2019t see it, Tash. Go back, tell him it\u2019s over, share custody of the girls. Plenty of couples do it, don\u2019t they?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYes, but if I go back, I won\u2019t be able to say that. Once I walk back in through that door\u2026 The funny thing is, I wasn\u2019t even unhappy. I didn\u2019t want to get away from them in general \u2013 I just wanted one night and a couple of days with no duties. No work, no family\u2026 And all right, Paul got upset, and maybe it was selfish of me to ask. I told myself it was no big deal, but that was when I knew. If I couldn\u2019t have my one night, I couldn\u2019t stay with him. But\u2026 if he\u2019d been OK about it, I could have stayed with him happily. Does that make sense to you?\u201d<\/p>\n<div id=\"dfp-ad--inline8\" class=\"js-ad-slot ad-slot ad-slot--inline ad-slot--inline8 ad-slot--rendered\" data-link-name=\"ad slot inline8\" data-name=\"inline8\" data-mobile=\"1,1|2,2|300,250|fluid\" data-desktop=\"1,1|2,2|300,250|620,1|620,350|fluid\" data-google-query-id=\"COL05OCLn9MCFWeoUQodPzwABQ\"><\/div>\n<p>\u201cYes. It does. But Tash, what about the girls?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThey\u2019ll be fine. I can\u2019t go back, Char.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Charlie sighed. \u201cLook, I get it, OK? In one way it\u2019s easier to pretend you don\u2019t have a family \u2013 that there aren\u2019t four people waiting for you to turn up and provide some answers.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cExactly.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThat\u2019s not an option, though. I\u2019m the same, if it makes any difference. Not my husband \u2013 his parents. I\u2019d rather pretend they\u2019re a comedy sketch than stand up to them about midnight sodding mass!\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Tasha looked confused.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIf Simon and I told them we didn\u2019t want to go again, they\u2019d be devastated. They\u2019d like us to go to their church every year, and we\u2019re too scared to say, \u2018Tough!\u2019 I hate being anyone\u2019s doormat, so I put my foot down: I said I\u2019d go to midnight mass at their church every other year, on the condition that they would come to mine the years in between. I picked the church nearest to my house and pretended it was My Church. It wasn\u2019t, it isn\u2019t! I don\u2019t have a church! I\u2019m a heathen, and proud of it. So\u2026 why didn\u2019t I just say that?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhy don\u2019t you?\u201d Tasha adjusted the tense of Charlie\u2019s question.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI kidded myself that it wasn\u2019t safe to stand up to them fully. I was scared of their reaction, and Simon\u2019s reaction to their reaction\u2026 But, look, if you\u2019ll go back home and have the necessary conversations, I\u2019ll do it. I swear. No more midnight masses for me.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Tasha smiled. \u201cListen to us,\u201d she said. \u201cAll right. I\u2019ll ring Tabby \u2013 not Paul. I don\u2019t think I could bring myself to speak to him.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI don\u2019t care how they feel, to be honest,\u201d Charlie told her. \u201cEveryone must do what\u2019s right for them, and everyone else can feel however the hell they want.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>And so can I, she thought to herself. I can do what I want and feel what I want. That will be nearly as much of a treat as having some special Christmas sugar. Let Kathleen worry about my feelings for a change. Let her lose sleep trying to think up ways to get back into my good books.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI am a loose cannon,\u201d she said out loud.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYeah, you always were,\u201d Tasha agreed.<\/p>[\/et_pb_text][\/et_pb_column][et_pb_column type=&#8221;1_4&#8243; _builder_version=&#8221;4.16&#8243; background_color=&#8221;rgba(255,255,255,0.5)&#8221; custom_padding=&#8221;|||&#8221; custom_padding_tablet=&#8221;0px|7%|3%|7%&#8221; custom_padding_last_edited=&#8221;on|tablet&#8221; global_colors_info=&#8221;{}&#8221; custom_padding__hover=&#8221;|||&#8221; custom_padding_phone=&#8221;0px|7%|3%|7%&#8221;][et_pb_sidebar area=&#8221;sidebar-1&#8243; show_border=&#8221;off&#8221; disabled_on=&#8221;||on&#8221; admin_label=&#8221;Sidebar&#8221; _builder_version=&#8221;4.16&#8243; header_font=&#8221;|on||on|&#8221; header_font_size=&#8221;32&#8243; header_line_height=&#8221;2.5em&#8221; body_font=&#8221;|on|||&#8221; body_text_color=&#8221;#000000&#8243; body_font_size=&#8221;24&#8243; body_line_height=&#8221;1em&#8221; remove_border=&#8221;on&#8221; global_colors_info=&#8221;{}&#8221;][\/et_pb_sidebar][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][\/et_pb_section]\n<span class=\"et_bloom_bottom_trigger\"><\/span>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>This story orignally appeared in the Guardian. For Charlie, Christmas with the parents-in-law was something to grin and bear. But an encounter with a long\u2011lost friend would show her selflessness in a different light\u201cI haven\u2019t disappeared,\u201d said the voice on the other end of the line. No hello, no introduction, nothing. \u201cPardon?\u201d said Charlie Zailer. [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":2742,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"on","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[29],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-826","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-short-stories-by-sophie"],"yoast_head":"<!-- This site is optimized with the Yoast SEO plugin v26.4 - https:\/\/yoast.com\/wordpress\/plugins\/seo\/ -->\n<title>The Tennis Church \u2013 an original short story for Christmas - Sophie Hannah<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/sophiehannah.com\/the-tennis-church-an-original-short-story-for-christmas\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"The Tennis Church \u2013 an original short story for Christmas - Sophie Hannah\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"This story orignally appeared in the Guardian. For Charlie, Christmas with the parents-in-law was something to grin and bear. But an encounter with a long\u2011lost friend would show her selflessness in a different light\u201cI haven\u2019t disappeared,\u201d said the voice on the other end of the line. No hello, no introduction, nothing. \u201cPardon?\u201d said Charlie Zailer. 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