Here's a towel . . .” She opens the stall door! And hands it to me. I see, that she is wearing her white silk robe, unusual for this time of day, ...ut not unheard of on a Sunday afternoon. Still . . . I begin to dry myself. “Would you like me to do that? Give me the towel.” I step out dripping on the rug, This is more like it! She uses it on my head, but then steps back to survey my form. “Mmm . . you've lost a bit of stiffness, I'll help buck it up.”Mom uses the terrycloth to rub me. I laughed. “Won’t be much of a game for you!” “That’s OK, I just need to play someone and there’s no one else around.” “OK. I’ll come down,” I said, as I got up from the lounger I’d been lying on. My flowery shirt and khaki shorts not really making me look the part for a strenuous game of tennis. “I’ve got a spare racket and I won’t play too hard.” For 10 minutes we rallied with her getting increasingly frustrated with my poor shots. I knew how much she wanted to play and the winning was a. More

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