5: GRAVITY A SET DOWN AT SW19

‘What’s different about this game at Wimbledon, Matey?’

‘The English guy’s winning!’ Glen volleyed back with a hint of facetious spin.

‘Take a closer look.’

Nothing appeared out of the ordinary. The white clad players engaged in battle. Centre-court grass its usual vibrant green except for the brown worn patches and Hawk-Eye was tracking balls with trusted precision. The line judges occupied their positions and as would be expected on a hot day the crowd sported a plethora of summer hats and short sleeved garments.

‘Well, it’s sunny,’ Mower pathetically offered. The glare he received coaxed another attempt. It then struck him like a stray racket to the back of the head. ‘The players wait ages to receive balls between points,’ he observed. ‘The ball boys and girls are taking longer to…in fact, there’s only one ball boy and girl. There’s usually a whole bloody team of them!’

‘Game, set and match to Hover.’

‘Where are they, the rest of them?’

‘Isaac Newton,’ Diamonde replied.

‘Isaac Newton?’

‘The History Maintenance Commission have alerted the All England Club at Wimbledon that the law of gravity might soon no longer apply. You see, one of the Route 1066 time-traveller pillocks seems to have persuaded Isaac Newton that he has Malus Domesticaphobia, aka the fear of apples, so there’s every chance he will no longer discover the theory of gravity if visiting orchards is off his bucket list.’

At that moment the Brit won his service game and pictures switched from centre-court to the large, patriotic crowd assembled in party mode on the hill just outside the tennis complex. Amongst the throng was someone in the distinctive navy, green and purple uniform of a Wimbledon ballgirl.

‘They’re all over the place,’ Kai explained. ‘They have to be as at any moment gravity could be undiscovered. Nobody could then be certain of where any ball will land once struck or even if it would land at all.’

‘But, surely, if Newton failed to discover gravity someone else would later have done that?’

‘Oh,’ Diamonde replied contemptuously. ‘I honestly don’t know why historical figures bother, when someone else would’ve come along soon after to do the same thing. Thank God we don’t all think that way. Statue makers would be redundant.’

Still muttering his disapproval Diamonde removed a large file from his bag and dropped it into Mower’s lap.

‘Take a look at this, Matey. Some of the literature we’ve acquired from that completely irresponsible time-travel company Route 1066.’

Glen digested the first few pages with mouth agape, though not for too long in case an errant tennis ball with topspin lodged there.