ANOTHER BOUNDARY
"Richard, I'm just doing the sandwiches for you and Tom, for the cricket. Some ham and some egg mayonnaise be ok? Banana for you and an apple for Tom, ok? You'll get drinks from the refreshment tent, won't you? It's a nice fine day, usually is for the Festival Match. You'll enjoy it. You will have to get there early to get seats on the boundary, won't you? So don't be long".
The voice came from the kitchen as Richard was just finishing his breakfast in the dining room. He wiped his mouth on his napkin.
"Thank you darling" he called back. "The answers to your message, in strict order, are - yes, thank you; yes thank you; yes we will; yes it is; yes we shall, and I'm hurrying". He walked into the kitchen where his wife, Sheila, tall, blonde, white blouse with a floral skirt under her kitchen apron was packing the lunch. He put his arm around her.
"You know, answering your question is like returning rapid fire".
"What do you mean?"
"Well, they all come at once". He picked up the carrier bag planted the expected kiss on her upturned, waiting mouth. "Thanks for the lunch, darling. Better be off. I want to get a seat and keep one for Tom. After what he calls his 'little upset', his time keeping is a bit erratic. See you this evening. Be good."
"Do I have a choice?" she asked herself, as she stood by the window watching him get into the car and with a cheery wave to her, drive off.
The Festival cricket match was an annual event. Each year the village club played the same opponents - their deadly rivals from Yarminster, about ten miles away. Richard and Tom, now both retired, attended as many matches together as they could, and the Festival match was always a firm date. They had met in 1939 when they both joined the Eastshire Territorials. When they were mobilised they served in France in 1940, in the Western Desert and in the invasion of Europe in 1944. They became firm friends as so often happened with wartime comrades, and although after the war they saw each other only intermittently, pursuing their separate careers, they always kept in touch. They both settled in Wellsham, and both played, with only moderate success, for the village club, but the time came when they realised they were only invited to play when one of the regulars had dropped out. Now they exercised their developing expertise by commenting from boundary seats.
When he arrived at the ground you could see it was going to be a 'local sell out'. The car park was already half full and there was a steady stream of people showing their tickets as they passed through the gate. He went straight to the seats he and Tom usually occupied half way along the offside boundary to the batsman at the pavilion end. He put the packet of sandwiches on the chair next to him and took stock of the scene. He could see the wives busy preparing the refreshments in the pavilion, while the teams were knocking up by the sightscreen.
It was not long before the pavilion bell rang and the teams went inside to their dressing rooms. Richard began to feel uneasy and looked anxiously to his left towards the entrance. People were still entering, but there was no sign of Tom. To
his astonishment he suddenly heard over his right shoulder "ah, there you are Richard, usual seats I see. Thank you for getting them" and Tom eased himself into his chair. "I've been looking forward to this. I want it to be one of our especially enjoyable days, and we've had many in our time, haven't we?"
"Yes we have. You're sounding better Tom, are you feeling ok?"
"I'm feeling fine today, thank you."
"Now, our side won the toss and will bat first. That's a bonus. It should be a good wicket. Old Evans and young Holmes are opening. A good combination of experience and youthful aggression."
The spectators, many still settling into their seats, broke into a round of applause and encouraging shout of 'bravo', in which Richard and Tom joined, as the umpire emerged from the pavilion followed by the opening batsman and the fielding side.
The first over bowled to the cautious Evans, was a maiden, The second, bowled to young Holmes batting at the pavilion end produced the first runs of the innings. He drove the third ball between point and mid off to the boundary right in front of them.
"What a good shot" said Richard as he applauded. The next ball bought a gasp from the crowd as Holmes miss-hit a pull to square leg, the ball just clearing the up stretched arms of the square leg fielder. "Oh Lord, he mustn't be too impetuous this early in the innings" muttered Richard. He learned his lesson, and continued to bat aggressively and with better judgement. Evans edged one to slip and was out after a steady 35. Thomson, the number 3 joined Holmes and together they gave the scorer a lot to do with grand shots at both boundaries. Shortly before lunch Holmes drove a ball straight past the bowler for four to bring up the hundred.
"What a glorious shot" exclaimed Richard. "a fine Festival morning for our side, eh Tom."
Tom didn't answer. Turning to him Richard saw he was not watching the cricket, but staring across the pitch to the far boundary, shading his eyes from the sun.
"You alright Tom? He asked.
"er-yes-I think so. I-er-er-just thought. But no....it couldn't be".
"Anything the matter?"
"Not really I just wondered what that chap standing under the tree beyond that boundary, dressed so unsuitably for cricket, was doing here".
Richard looked across. "I can't see anyone, Tom. Must have been a shadow. You feeling ok?"
"Yes Richard, I'm feeling better than ever, You know, I'm so glad we came today. We've had such fun doing this over the years. I'll remember it always.
Part 2 next month.
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