The Quality of Mercy - By Barry Unsworth Page 0,116

One player could not block another from playing the ball; if he did, the ball was judged dead and had to be served again. The first man to reach twenty points won the game. Five games were played; the winner was he who had the best of the five.

“But who is it that does the judging?” Kemp asked. “There must be someone, surely. Otherwise the time would be consumed in dispute and quarrels.”

“There is a man chosen to be the arbiter, one who knows the rules and is accepted by both sides. He must not come from either colliery—the man we have today is from a colliery north of the Wear.”

“He is there in the midst of the court, then? He will need to be quick on his feet to keep clear of the ball and the players.”

“He keeps to the sidelines,” Spenton said. “He will come in with the players … Here they are now.”

There was a sudden shouting from the packed ranks behind them as the three men appeared and made their way onto the court. The arbiter was dressed in suit and cap, clearly his best; the players were bareheaded, in shirtsleeves, their trousers tied round at the ankles with twine. The shouting was followed by an absorbed silence as the two began some minutes of warming up, taking turns to serve.

“That is our man, Bordon, the slightly taller one,” Spenton said.

Kemp, who had seen the putters at work some days previously, found it hard to imagine how anyone could emerge from such heavy labor in such cramped conditions and move with the lightness and speed both men were showing now as they circled round the court. He could see nothing in either that might be taken as a determining advantage. Bordon had an inch or two of height and perhaps a wider reach, but the other was thicker in the shoulder and altogether stronger-looking in build, and he seemed to move no less quickly for this.

The arbiter spoke to the two men and they came together in the center of the court to toss a coin and determine who should serve first. It came down in Michael’s favor. The minutes of practice had warmed him, but he was still nervous and tense, as always at the beginning of any contest in which he was involved. He had not found the coolness of mind that might already have given him some clues as to his opponent’s style of play. For this first serve he stood well forward in the service area, as close as possible to the shortline that marked the division of the court. He dropped the ball, struck it on the first bounce with the palm of his hand. It came high off the wall, and Dickson, who had stayed well back, was able to leap and strike it with great force. The rebound was very fast and very high—too fast and too high for Michael, who had stayed too near to the wall to get his hand to it. With this he lost the advantage of the service.

Dickson won the next six points in a row, then lost the service through a fault, setting one foot outside the service line as he dropped the ball. Michael meanwhile had understood that he could not hit the ball with the same force as his opponent and that he would lose the match if he allowed it to become a trial of striking power. He was being obliged to stay at the back of the court, a position which deprived him of initiative. Dickson seemed to be assuming now that the contest would take this form, remaining in midcourt where he could use the sidearm stroke to slam the ball hard against the wall.

Only a short bounce was any defense against this tactic, and Michael served from as far back as possible, almost a lob. It struck the wall rather low, obliging Dickson to move forward very quickly. So near the wall as this, with the ball dropping, there was little he could do but strike underhand at it and so present Michael with a perfect passing shot.

This exchange in the first game set the pattern for the next two. Dickson gained most of his points with a slamming forearm stroke, delivered across court to widen the angle of the bounce; Michael lured his opponent forward and then passed him with shots that were out of his reach.

Three games had been played and Dickson had won two