Naked Hero - The Journey Away

world of tennis that he could learn from a sophisticated man like Scott Taylor.
    As they browsed through the menus and made their selections, it was Scott who kept the conversation flowing, tactfully avoiding Chantal’s flirtation with defeat and instead quizzing Marie about her work, some of which he was familiar with, which again impressed Lewis.
    “And are you working on anything new?” Scott asked once the food order had been taken.
    “In the early stages,” she answered. “And that’s a dangerous time for me as I can get too engrossed, and miss too much of what is around me. Like seeing Melbourne! Would you believe that I haven’t even been to the National Gallery as yet on this visit?”
    “Me neither!” admitted Scott as if this was a scandal, leaving Lewis to wonder what was so great about the place. Perhaps he should make an effort to go see for himself, then he wouldn’t have to sit quietly when the subject was raised. He was too pre-occupied with this to take much note of the next question Scott posed.
    “And w hat is the theme of your new book?” the American asked.
    “Complex relationships!” said Marie with a smile. “Very French - it’s our speciality... And you, Scott, I understand you are working for ABC, as well as helping Lewis, which we all appreciate, as he seriously needs it. But what will you do afterwards?”
    Suddenly all thoughts of the National Gallery vanished. Lewis sharpened his wits as he waited on an answer. He had not thought that far ahead where Scott was concerned, to the time when both of them would move on from Melbourne, and he found the idea strangely disturbing.
    “Go back to the States ,” was the American’s answer. “It’s a one off here. I might do some more commentary work, but I think it’s unlikely.”
    “Any other plans?” asked Marie.
    Scott shrugged his shoulders. “Play some more golf. Write a book maybe: the life story... everyone does it. Perhaps you know a good ghost writer - it’s not my thing really.”
    Marie smiled and shook her head. “I’m afraid not, but you should do it... very therapeutic. It would give you a chance to evaluate your life, and work out what you want to do with it now.”
    “Well I’ve got an idea!” Lewis chipped in. “I could seriously do with some help at the French Open. As you speak the language - if nothing else, you could help me prepare my first round loser’s speech. Paris has got fabulous restaurants, and the best wine in the world, or so I’m assured. There are plenty of galleries to go and see as well. The girls could show us around. It might be fun. Chantal and I are going to enter the doubles - now that would be worth coming to see, do you not think?”
    Lewis regretted it immediately, realising how silly he sounded. He was acting like a child in the company of sophisticated adults, and Scott’s silence for an answer did nothing to relieve his anguish. Thankfully Marie came to the rescue.
    “Don’t worry, Lewis – if Scott’s not available, I’ll help you with your speech. And perhaps it would be better if I played in the doubles with you. Chantal will be too busy winning the singles. It will be fun, and when we get knocked out, I will show you Paris... my Paris. We will go to the galleries and you can learn about art. We will dine at the best restaurants which are not the most expensive. And I will teach you the difference between Burgundy and Claret. Then when we come to England, you can show me London, and buy me fish and chips.”
    “You need to eat them out of a paper bag. It’s not very stylish, but they don’t taste the same otherwise. It does sound like fun... Thank you.” And he meant that from the bottom of his heart.
    Having raised the subject, the spectre of the immanent future hung like a shadow over the meal, the three tennis players seemingly touched by its invisible cloak. So it fell to Marie to hold things together, which was a role she was happy to play. The dinner table was her court, much more than theirs. And as she flitted from one subject to another, keeping the conversation flowing with a practiced ease, Marie recalled what Chantal had said earlier about the battles in the head. Her girlfriend was fighting one there and then, the inner doubts returning to plague her once again. Lewis fought as well, with his concerns about what others thought, and what was happening around him. And Scott... yes, Marie had seen a battle there as well. It was only a suspicion