‘We’ll settle this on the squash court.’
‘Or we could just have a fist-fight and get it over with.’
‘Whatever you like, mate.’
‘I’m no longer your mate. Not after stealing my girlfriend.’
‘Oh, dry your eyes. I didn’t steal her. She chose me.’
'We’re wasting time. Squash court or fight.'
Vince tossed a coin three times. John called heads twice.
‘Squash court it is, then.’
Next morning, they both turned up at the sports centre, along with Sandra, the tug-of-war girlfriend. In a rare moment of unity, John and Vince persuaded her to come along. She was uncomfortable but, in an effort to keep a modicum of peace, she agreed.
She sat at a table outside with a view of the court through a glass partition. It was a sunny day, so the table umbrella was up. Inside was far from sunny, a mixture of thunderous looks and red mist.
They played hard and fast, getting each other’s measure.
After half an hour, they looked exhausted as they battled to out-macho each other. They knew Sandra was watching. At first, she liked the idea of two blokes scrapping over her but gradually, watching these sweaty men, she felt her stomach churn as she realised they saw her as some kind of prize, a trophy.
At the end of the game, there was a winner and a loser. The loser broke his racquet against a wall and stormed off the court. The big-toothy-smile-winner walked over to the glass partition, raising his arms in triumph and then blowing a kiss. Sandra did not react. The winner shrugged his shoulders and left the court.
Soon John and Vince emerged and walked over to Sandra’s table.
‘Neither of you say anything, not a word.’
The men exchanged glances.
‘I’ve been sitting here for over an hour watching you too little kids, feeling I’m between a rock and a hard place, waiting anxiously to see which one of you would come out on top and claim me as their prize. Me? A prize? And, do you know what? I couldn’t care less about your rivalry and I’ve decided there is only one winner here today – me. I am disgusted by you two balloon-heads. In the last hour, I’ve made a decision that frees me to live my life on my terms.’
John and Vince attempted to speak.
‘Not a word from either of you. Whatever went on between us, it’s over. For good. I’m a young woman with feelings, not a trophy. What was I thinking coming to this pantomime today? But then, watching the two of you slug it out on the court, I thought we were back in the Stone Age. Get lost the pair of you.’
Sandra stood up, gave each one a glare, then walked away.
John and Vince stared at each other in disbelief.
‘What just happened?’
‘Dunno. Can’t work out which one of us is to blame.’
‘We settled something on the court, alright.’
“Yeah, we’re both idiots.’
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