Page 142 of The Sisters of Sea View
Seeing Mr. Hutton and Armaan nearby, Viola waved to them, then returned both hands to the chair handles to position Mrs. Gage to have a good view of the game and company.
The visiting gentlemen removed their outer coats and played in shirtsleeves and light waistcoats over fawn-colored trousers. They wore narrow black cravats and their top hats. Among themwere a few men she recognized, Colin Hutton and two of their own guests: Mr. Henshall and Mr. Stanley.
The fishermen also wore shirts, waistcoats, and trousers of varying shades. Their hats ranged from wide-brimmed felt hats with low crowns to old tricornes to flat wool caps. Their number included Punch and Tom Cordey.
The fishermen’s team won the coin toss and batted first. Around the field, some of the visiting spectators grumbled that the game was fixed.
Colin took his place as wicket keeper while the other gentlemen spread across the field—Mr. Stanley, Mr. Henshall, and others Viola did not know.
Toot Salter stood before the wicket, bat ready, while Mr. Henshall bowled the ball toward him.
Thwack.He hit the ball, and the visitors scrambled after it. Toot ran toward the opposite wicket, while Punch, the other batsman, ran to swap places with him, becoming the next to bat.
Colin stood not far behind the striker’s wicket, awaiting the next delivery. Punch gave it a whack, but Mr. Henshall caught it after a single bounce. He threw it hard and hit the wicket before Punch and Toot could again swap places, and Toot was declared out by Mr. Wallis, who was acting as umpire.
Then Tom stepped up to bat. Holding the bat low, he tapped the ground in preparation.
On the pitch, Mr. Henshall took his running start and bowled the ball. It bounced once in line with the stumps.
Thwack!Tom hit it dead-on.
The ball flew past the visitors’ team, all the way to the fence, their boundary.
An instant four runs.
Tom raised his bat high in triumph, and his teammates and the locals cheered.
Eventually, when everyone had been called out, they switched sides.
The fishermen spread across the field—Toot Salter, Ruder Pike, and others whose more common names Viola could not recall. Punch took over as wicket keeper, and Tom took to the pitch.
A young gentleman she didn’t know swaggered up to bat. He wore his side-whiskers trimmed to a precise point and a flower in his waistcoat button.
“Let me have your best delivery,” the dandy said with a sneer. “Pretend I am a fish.”
One of the Oxford or Cambridge players Mrs. Gage had predicted, if she had to guess. She hoped Tom bowled him out.
Viola was distracted from the game when Georgiana, trailed by Chips, came striding in her direction to greet them. Seeing the stray, Mrs. Gage’s Pomeranian leapt down and started across the field.
“Nero, no! Come back,” Mrs. Gage shouted, her voice rising in panic, “Please stop him before he’s trampled!”
Viola darted after the dog, just as Tom ran and bowled the ball overhand. She vaguely heard the crack of wood on the hard ball. From the corner of her eye, she glimpsed a flash of movement shooting straight toward her and tried to duck, too late. The ball slammed into her face.
She cried out in both pain and alarm.No, no, no. She threw her veil back and cradled her mouth with both hands.
The crowd’s cheer erupted, then faded.
The umpire shouted something. The game ceased. All around her, people turned to see what or who had disturbed the match.
“Viola! Vi!” Sarah’s voice, calling from a distance.
A man shouted, “Delay of game! Interference! That would have been a run!”
Emily’s angry voice. “Is that all you care about? Can’t you see she is hurt?”
“She should not have wandered onto the playing field,” the man defended, their voices drawing closer.
Emily retorted, “You, sir, are no gentleman.”
