Naked Hero - The Journey Away

friendless boy whose only true home now appeared to be a tennis court. Scotland, he said, could go to hell for claiming the life of his father. He had never returned there since.
    Jim eventually gave up his job with the Lawn Tennis Association in order to coach Lewis full time when he turned fifteen. A big decision, as there would be no payback for years, perhaps never. But Fiona had supported the decision, and continued to support. Even when it practically blew up in their faces a few years later, she still supported, she still believed - and Jim could always read the draw. The paybacks did come... and then they hit the jackpot!
    Jim had been so proud, sitting there in the player’s supporters box at Centre Court, watching his charge - his boy who had become the son he never had. ‘My heart was bursting,’ he recalled, as memories of the day came flooding back, ‘right up to that last point… Christ, it seemed like an eternity before he served. The crowd just wouldn’t quieten. I was shouting as well. “It’s just a serve, Lewis, just a serve. Don’t make it anything more. Just one other serve like you’ve been hammering down for the past three hours.” And that’s what you did. Just hammered it down and followed it into the net… no need… that ball was never coming back. Text book stuff… And then you looked round to me, even before you shook hands. That was a bit bad, but I didn’t mind - picked you up on it later, though. I could see it on your lips. “Thank you!” you said… No, thank you, Lewis… Thank you for giving me the proudest moment of my life.’
    He knew that Fiona was right, though, about the current state of things. Jim didn’t have the experience on court himself at the top level, and clay was alien to him, as he rarely got the chance to play, having never qualified for the bigger tournaments on the dirt. Grass was his surface, and that’s what Lewis had wanted to excel on. “Wimbledon,” he would say time and time again. “Teach me how to win Wimbledon, Mr. Murdoch. That’s all that matters. That’s the dream.”
    Well, he’d done that. He’d given Lewis his dream, and then he watched it turn into a nightmare that seemed to have no end in sight. He should have been of more help, but the roles had got too muddied - surrogate father and coach, and he was doing neither well at present. He knew that Fiona was right - it was time to accept that he had taken Lewis as far as he could. There needed to be fresh input if the boy was going to get back into the top ten, and definitely if he was to get to the top of the rankings and knock Jackson off his spot. He knew that Lewis could get there, he was a natural, but it needed to come out soon as time was slipping away. And yes, Jim acknowledged that he had never really accepted Lewis’s sexuality. He didn’t want to know about it. Knew he went out, and probably what he got up to, but didn’t ever want to discuss it with the boy, so he just pretended it wasn’t happening.
    ‘How would Calum have reacted?’ he wondered. ‘We’ll never know. But he wouldn’t have turned his back on the lad, he loved him that much. Whatever he might have felt, he would have kept it to himself. With Lewis, he would have carried on as before, and have taken no quarter from anybody else. I remember him saying to Lewis once, when the lad had called a ball out that was clearly in... “Honesty, Lewis, that’s more important. Be honest with people, and be honest with yourself.” Aye, I think I know how Calum would have reacted. And I know what he would say to me now.’
    Jim stood up and returned to the table, resuming his work as he muttered: “I’ll find a way, Lewis, one way or the other. As long as you want it badly enough... I’ll find a way to get you there.”

Chapter 11
    Lewis didn’t drive very far. Within ten minutes he found himself cruising down St. Kilda Road, past the National Gallery and pulling up outside the Langham Hotel. He gave the car keys and a twenty dollar bill to the doorman then walked into the gilded elegance of the Langham’s splendid lobby.
    “Good evening, Mr. Macleod. How are you, sir?” asked the young man behind the reception desk, recognising the tennis player with ease. Lewis was known here from his stay the previous year, and memories had been refreshed by his visit the night before when he had joined Chantal and Marie for dinner. There were of course other reasons why his face was familiar to most