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‘It was worth it.’
‘Watch this.’ Anna pulled a face at him, walking back to the other end of the court. She stopped well short of the place where he’d picked her up, in a spot behind the three-point line. Gauging the distance carefully, she reckoned she could make it. Jamie was sitting on one of the park benches now, shaking his head and motioning her closer to the hoop.
Everyone was watching to see what she’d do. Whether she could make the shot. Anna looked round and saw Spark, who gave her a thumbs-up sign. That was it. She had to make the shot now.
There was silence as the ball arced through the air. And then a howl of applause from both teams as it bounced against the backboard and through the hoop. Jen and Spark both careened towards her, hugging her and slapping her on the back.
‘You trashed him...’ Jen gestured towards Jamie, who was on his feet, applauding with all the others, seemingly unaware of his complete humiliation. The ref peeped his whistle, motioning everyone back to their places.
She was on the team now.
* * *
‘So what were Spark and Jen saying to you?’ Jamie had a feeling that the two girls had been doing a little more than just explaining the rules to Anna. The two of them could be difficult at times, but Anna had seemed to take it all in her stride.
‘Oh, just girl talk.’ She climbed into his car, smiling at him.
Heaven help him. Anna was ferocious enough on her own, and Jamie wasn’t quite sure how to view a potential alliance between her and the girls.
‘That was a hell of a shot.’
Anna grinned at him. ‘Wasn’t it exactly what you wanted me to do?’
Maybe not quite. The Hastings Hustlers were a tight-knit group, and while they welcomed other teens in their number they could be wary of adults, who they saw as authority figures. He’d reckoned a little outrageous cheating might break the ice and get them on Anna’s side, and it had. But she’d outdone him.
‘It didn’t occur to me you were a basketball aficionado.’
‘I played a lot of netball at school and it’s not so different.’ Anna grinned at him. ‘And the ref did a pretty good job of putting you in your place.’
Jamie chuckled. ‘Yeah, Andrew’s a good kid. He’s our chess player and he doesn’t much like running around with a ball, but he’s a great referee. Very impartial and he knows all the rules by heart.’
He leaned forward, twisting the key in the ignition. ‘What do you fancy for lunch? There’s a great fish and chip restaurant down by the promenade.’
‘Sounds good. I’m hungry.’
* * *
The fish and chip restaurant had a fifties vibe, with shining chrome, tiled walls and red leather seats. They found a table by the window, and a waitress with a check apron came to take their order, putting a carousel with red sauce, brown sauce, salt, vinegar and cutlery down onto the table.
Anna was staring out at the iron-grey sky, which merged into an iron-grey sea. It was starting to rain, and people were hurrying past, anxious to get out of the biting wind.
‘So you got on pretty well with Jen and Spark.’ What Jamie really wanted to know was what the girls had been saying to Anna, but that had already been asked and answered.
‘You just can’t let it alone, can you?’ She grinned at him.
‘I’m just...’ Jamie shrugged. He was actually just being protective, but Anna wouldn’t like that. ‘Just curious. They have their own agenda sometimes.’
‘Oh, they definitely had an agenda. They’d decided that I was your girlfriend and that they’d give me a once-over to make sure I was good enough for you.’
Jamie winced. ‘Ouch. Sorry...’
‘That’s okay. I thought it was rather sweet of them.’ She paused, drawing circles with her finger on the tablecloth. ‘Did you realise that they knew about what happened when you broke up with your fiancée?’
‘What! No.’ Jamie felt the hairs on the back of his neck suddenly spring to attention. ‘I never mentioned it. I didn’t want any
one to know.’
‘Well, they’re teenagers. They know how to use the internet. What Jon does and who he’s with tends to get photographed and reported.’ Anna’s expression softened suddenly. ‘And they said that you’d seemed upset about something.’
