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‘And I’m not coaching any tennis, right?’ asked Hannah.
‘Nope,’ said Sam with a grin. ‘The sessions are all booked up, but we can manage with the coaches we’ve got. Unless anyone gets sick or falls under a bus.’
‘Bubble-wrap them all,’ said Hannah with a half-smile. ‘I’m not doing it.’
‘Hello?’ said a snippy female voice. ‘Are you going to leave me standing here much longer?’
Hannah and Sam both turned from the rota on the screen to see a woman tapping her manicure on the edge of the desk, swishing her immaculate curtain of blonde hair like a pony swatting flies. Hannah knew her as Sophia Carmichael, wife of Jack Carmichael – they’d been members of the country club since just after Hannah started working there and had three spoiled, obnoxious sons.
‘Sorry,’ said Hannah. ‘What can I do for you?’
‘I need to book my three boys onto summer holiday tennis,’ said Sophia, wrapping her hair round her fist and securing it into a bun with a hairband. ‘Felix is nine and Archie and Albert are seven. I’m actually in a hurry, so can you just make a note and I’ll fill out any forms later?’ She artfully pulled out a few strands around her face, then checked her reflection in the glass cabinet of golf trophies.
‘Oh,’ said Hannah. ‘We don’t actually have any spaces left for tennis this summer. They were all booked up weeks ago.’ She braced herself for incoming fury, already wishing she and Sam hadn’t agreed to work their Friday off. Janice had asked for the favour because she’d been to a funeral in London this morning; she was due back any minute, but it almost certainly wasn’t going to be soon enough.
Sophia’s mouth fell open, revealing two rows of perfect white teeth. ‘What?’ she said, her eyes widening in panic. ‘That’s not possible. I need to book them all in now. I can’t look after them for the whole holidays.’
You gave birth to them, thought Hannah, who saw Sophia here all the time so she clearly didn’t have a job. ‘We’re completely booked up,’ she said with her best conciliatory smile. ‘We do send an email to all our members telling them to book early. But I can put you on the waiting list for any cancellations?’
The woman’s eyes narrowed. ‘That’s completely unacceptable,’ she spat. ‘This is a private country club, not Woking fucking Leisure Centre.’ She pointed a finger in Hannah’s face. ‘You make as many spaces available as your members need. That’s what we pay for.’
‘I don’t think . . .’ said Sam, putting his hand on the counter.
‘I’m not interested in what you think,’ said the woman, giving Sam a top-to-toe look and clearly deciding she didn’t much like what she saw. ‘I’m not moving until all three names are on your list, and I’m really happy to talk to the manager if that’s what it takes.’
‘I AM the manager,’ said Hannah through gritted teeth.
‘Is everything OK?’ said Janice, taking in the scene as she came down the stairs. ‘Mrs Carmichael? Can I help?’
‘I’m trying to book my three boys in for summer tennis,’ said Sophia. ‘But Hannah here –’ she squinted at Hannah’s name badge, even though Hannah knew full well that Sophia knew her name, ‘– isn’t being very helpful.’
‘Right,’ said Janice. ‘Do we not have any spaces, Hannah?’
‘No,’ said Hannah. ‘We’re at full capacity.’
‘Then make MORE capacity,’ said Sophia icily, then turned to Janice. ‘My nanny has left, it’s an absolute nightmare.’
‘Oh,’ said Janice with a sympathetic head tilt. ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘She’s a lying bitch,’ muttered Sophia. ‘Made some fake accusation about Jack touching her up. Like he’d ever do anything like that.’
I bet he would, thought Hannah, who’d been on the receiving end of plenty of winks and leers from Jack Carmichael, and once a hand brushing her backside as he passed her on the stairs leading down to the spa. She couldn’t prove it wasn’t accidental and decided at the time it wasn’t worth making a fuss about.
‘I’m sure we can sort things out, Mrs Carmichael,’ said Janice. ‘Leave it with me, I’ll drop you an email to confirm.’
‘Thank you,’ said Sophia, giving Hannah a fuck-you glare as she stalked out of reception towards the car park.
‘Hannah, come and see me when you’ve got a minute,’ said Janice, heading into the back office and closing the door behind her. Hannah sighed and rolled her eyes at Sam, who shook his head.
‘You in danger, girl,’ he said, doing his best Whoopi Goldberg impression.
‘I honestly don’t care,’ said Hannah. ‘That rota took for ever; I’m not sure why we bother.’
‘Well,’ said Sam. ‘That’s a very big question. Because you’ve been totally miserable ever since you got back from Spain, and if you ask me it feels a bit like your heart’s no longer in this job.’ She gave him a sharp look, and he held up his hands. ‘I’m just saying.’
Hannah looked at him for a moment, then let out a heavy sigh. ‘No, you’re right. I just . . . I don’t know. This place feels like part of my old life, I guess. And a month off kind of made me want a new one. I feel like I’m going backwards.’
Sam nodded sagely. ‘I get that. But the minute you moonwalk into that office, Janice is going to tell you you’re on the coaching team for this summer.’
