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Hannah ignored him and bounced the ball on the baseline for a few moments, then dollied a serve over the net. There was none of her usual power, but it went in. Javier returned it, and they engaged in a long rally, Javier getting increasingly frustrated that Hannah kept returning the ball despite him giving it everything he had. Mario held back for as long as his patience could bear, then dived forward to intercept, purposely avoiding Rob and volleying a ball three metres in front of Hannah. She darted in, scooped it up and dropped it just over the net, taking the first point.
Rob smiled to himself, crossing over with Hannah and returning to the baseline for her next serve, watching the fevered whispering and head-scratching going on between Javier and Mario. He’d coached tennis for the best part of ten years, but these two arrogant little shits were about to receive the most important lesson of their lives.
‘You said she could not play!’ yelled Mario, slamming his racquet on the net as Hannah spanked another ball past his left ear and into the dust.
‘No, I didn’t,’ said Rob calmly, getting close enough that he could feel Mario’s panting breaths and the heat from the angry flush on his neck. ‘YOU assumed she couldn’t play because she is “just a woman” ’ – he made air quotes with his fingers – ‘and now maybe you’ll be more respectful in future.’
Mario stomped off to confer with Javier, the two of them bickering in rapid Spanish, presumably about whose fault it was that they were now five games to one down, with Rob to serve.
‘What do you want to do?’ Hannah asked mildly, handing Rob some balls so he could fill his pockets.
‘What do you mean?’ he asked.
‘I mean, do we wrap this up, or do we toy with their bruised egos for a bit longer?’
Rob laughed and glanced at Pendejo under the tree. ‘Much as I’m enjoying every minute of this, that dog isn’t getting any less hungry.’
‘No,’ said Hannah, as Pendejo panted at them both. ‘Let’s finish them off, shall we?’
Fifteen minutes later Rob and Hannah were driving north towards Granada, windows down and mouth-breathing through the stench of a dog who smelled like fishy bin juice. They’d tried putting Pendejo on the back seat but he was having none of it, instead insisting on sitting on Rob’s lap with his head out of the window, his tongue hanging out in a giant doggy smile and his ears flapping in the warm breeze.
‘I still can’t believe how brutal your final shot was,’ Rob said gleefully. ‘Poor guys didn’t stand a chance.’
‘Teenage boys are all the same,’ said Hannah, wrinkling her nose as Pendejo panted in her face. ‘All power, no finesse.’
‘Six–one, though. You annihilated them. I’m not sure their pride will ever recover.’
‘It was very much a team effort. And you gave them one hundred euros anyway, which wasn’t even part of the deal.’
‘I know, but I wanted to keep things civil,’ said Rob.
‘Why didn’t you just offer them money for the dog in the first place?’
‘It was my Plan B if they actually turned out to be Rafa’s distant cousins and we lost the set. But it was way more fun this way.’
‘What are we going to do now?’ asked Hannah. ‘We went looking for some tennis, and now we’ve got a dog.’
‘Yeah, not sure how that happened.’ Rob patted the dog’s head and recoiled from the smell of his hot breath. ‘Let’s get us all some food, then check into our Airbnb so we can give him a bath and let him rest for the night. We can find a vet in the morning and get him checked out, then decide what to do next.’
Hannah nodded and gave an exaggerated sigh. ‘Best you get back on that phone and find us a pet store.’
The Airbnb that Rob had booked earlier was a ground-floor apartment, located in the centre of Granada down a tiny side street that was approximately six inches wider than their car. Thankfully the key had been left in a lock box so they didn’t have to explain the stinky hound to an unsuspecting owner – dog ownership hadn’t been mentioned when they’d booked it, and even though Brits were notoriously goofy about their animals, Rob wasn’t sure ‘we won him in a tennis match’ was going to cut it.
While Hannah unloaded their luggage, Rob carried Pendejo through to the shower with a bottle of medicated dog shampoo they’d bought in the pet store, along with a lead and a collar and poo bags and a couple of plastic dog bowls. They’d also picked up a bag of kibble, which Rob had been feeding Pendejo by the handful since they left the store.
‘The grey bits are actually white,’ said Rob gleefully as he led the dog back into the kitchen. ‘Honestly, he was disgusting.’ Pendejo shook vigorously, then started doing manic, high-speed laps around the kitchen table, his paws skidding on the tiled floor like Bambi on ice.
‘Where’s he going to sleep?’ asked Hannah, wondering if this was normal dog behaviour, or whether Mario wasn’t far off when he’d described the dog as crazy.
‘We’ll leave him in here tonight,’ replied Rob, ‘he’ll be nice and cool on the tiles. We’ll find a vet in the morning.’ The dog ran a few more laps, then gave another shake before settling down in the corner with a huge yawn. ‘Won’t eat, my arse. That dog would eat the whole bag if you gave him half a chance. Javier’s lucky we only gave him a kicking on the tennis court.’
Hannah laughed. ‘I think Javier is battered enough for one day.’
‘Are you sure you’re OK with this?’ Rob said, touching her briefly on the arm. She flinched and goosebumps appeared, and he kicked himself for forgetting that she was still sensitive about being touched. ‘I’ve gatecrashed your road trip, and now we’ve got a dog.’
‘It’s all part of the adventure,’ said Hannah. ‘And to be honest, a man who will take on Rafa Nadal’s cousin’s son at tennis in order to save a dog’s life is my kind of travel companion.’
‘Thank God,’ Rob said breathlessly, folding his arms tightly to quell the urge to sweep her up and take her to bed. ‘What shall we do now?’
