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Surprise
Given his recent form, it was only to be expected that Ivan should have a smooth run through to the semifinals of Wimbledon. But he met a glitch in his comfortable winning streak when playing against a young, up-and-coming Australian who took everyone by surprise. This opponent proved a worthy competitor, pushing Ivan into extensive rallies and forcing him to hit winners even he was a little shocked to have executed. The Australian’s tenacity and self-confidence certainly captured the eye of sports commentators, and there were lengthy discussions about whether he had the skill and drive to become the next big drawcard of the tennis world.
The crowd was thrilled with the five-set marathon, which, after many hours, saw the top seed proceed to the final – just as the bookmakers, including Caesar, had predicted he would. Although Ivan was pleased with his performance and eventual win, there was no doubting his thirty-one-year-old body felt the additional strain of such a challenging match. It ensured his personal physiotherapist was more than occupied for the next thirty-six hours leading up the final.
In keeping with the noble traditions of Wimbledon, the atmosphere at the gentlemen’s championship final was cordially electric. Ivan’s opponent was the twenty-six-year-old Swede Stephan Nordstrom.
Nordstrom had never been in a final at the All England Club, even though he had convincingly won the Australian Open earlier in the year, his first ever grand-slam victory. His form could be erratic and nobody was sure whether he was a one-slam wonder or set to settle in for the long haul, given that his win had occurred when the world’s Number One was absent from Melbourne Park. One thing was certain, however: the truth would be discovered by the end of the day.
There was not much time for Eloise to dance for Ivan before the final, as his coach took complete responsibility for orchestrating his every movement before he walked onto centre court. Eloise did her best in the twelve minutes she had been allocated, but she could tell he was distracted by nerves as he prepared to defend his Wimbledon title for the third time. His coach seemed as nervous as Ivan, so she assumed this tournament meant more to them than any of those he played leading up to it. After all, the Championships at Wimbledon were the most prestigious of all the grand slams – the slam all players dreamt of winning the moment the game of tennis took their lives hostage.
Right in the middle of Eloise’s performance, the coach opened the door, declaring that her time with Ivan was over.
Ivan looked a little flustered as he walked over to her. ‘Thank you, Eloise. Unfortunately my time is running out. I have a ticket for you, should you be interested in watching the final.’
It was unusual enough for him to speak to her after she danced for him, let alone offer her a ticket to one of his matches.
‘Thank you, Ivan, that is very thoughtful. Bonne chance.’
And with that she was immediately guided away so his coach could have final words with him before the match.
It was a warm, sunny day so Eloise wore a tailored emerald dress with mid-length sleeves that came to just above her knees, pairing it with court shoes and a matching handbag. She had changed her outfit when she found a guide to sartorial standards included with her ticket. It amounted to ‘No riffraff, please, we’re Wimbledon’. Apparently short skirts, bare midriffs, jeans, trainers, bomber jackets and sleeveless tops were all deemed inappropriate attire. She also opted to wear her hair in a sensible low braid, just in case her unruly flowing curls were deemed unacceptable and she was refused entry. She would hate to cause a scene and any embarrassment to Ivan.
Even after reading the sartorial guide, Eloise was surprised at the formal attire of some of the people bustling around the Wimbledon members’ enclosure. As she attempted to blend in, she felt like she was walking around inside a Burberry catalogue.
Staring at her ticket to ensure she was in the right place, she suddenly heard a vaguely familiar voice calling from behind her.
‘Elle, over here! Eloise?’
Elle? Only one person had ever called her that. She turned around and came face to face with Liam’s warm eyes and friendly smile.
‘My goodness, hi! I didn’t think I’d ever see you again!’
‘The universe works in mysterious ways! How are you?’
‘I’m really well, thanks. How about you?’
‘Same, although I’d prefer to be playing in the final.’
‘You play?’
‘I do.’ He laughed.
‘I’m sorry, I had no idea.’
‘No need for apologies, you didn’t ask and I didn’t say. Besides, most people hadn’t heard of me before yesterday. If Borisov hadn’t had the stamina and experience to last five sets in the semis, I’d be playing Nordstrom on centre court today. But that’s how the cookie crumbles.’
‘You played Ivan?’ She was astonished.
‘Yeah, you know, world Number One, presumably the person you are here to watch,’ he said with a cheeky grin.
She wasn’t sure how to answer, and thought it best to keep their conversation focused on him. ‘You certainly take losing well.’
‘I gave it my all on the day, that’s as much as I can expect from myself. It was a strong effort but he’s a great player – obviously. It’s just a game – admittedly a game I would have loved to win – but I had a good run, and made it much further than I’ve done here before, so I can’t complain.’
She remembered his positive attitude from when she met him in the pub, but still found herself shaking her head in surprise. ‘I wish I could be more like that.’
‘I know my day will come; I didn’t reach the Wimbledon final this year, but maybe next year, who knows?’ His high-voltage smile was on full display. ‘Hey, are you going to be around later? I’d love to catch up with you, but right now my coach is waiting for me in the stands. We need to be able to analyse my opposition in detail.’
‘Oh, sure, of course, I’d love to catch up. Sounds great!’ Spending some time with someone other than herself sounded like too good an opportunity to miss – especially someone like Liam.
‘Excellent!’ He pulled a card out of his back pocket and handed it to her. ‘Call me after the match and I’ll see if we can find something more potent to drink than an untouched pint – I have the next week off so I can let loose.’ His grin exploded into a heartfelt smile.
‘Sure!’ Eloise looked down at the card. ‘Noah?’
‘Yeah, that’s me. Liam Noah Levique. Not using my real name makes it easier for me to stay incognito when I meet beautiful strangers, and my nan always called me Noah, so it sort of stuck as my tennis name.’
‘Well, that makes sense. I’m not great at the whole tennis thing but at least I’ve heard of Noah Levique. You really did give Ivan a hard time.’ She knew more than anyone how flustered and aching Ivan had been after such a brutal match. Noah had put up a mammoth fight.
‘And I hope to do it again, only next time I’ll win.’ He winked