Something Rotten (Thursday Next 4)

O'Fathens boiled with inner rage, but held it within him, turned on his heel and, followed by his lawyers, strode to where his team were waiting.

'Good one!' Aubrey laughed. 'The whistle hasn't even gone and we're winning!'

He tried to sound full of enthusiasm but it was difficult. We were fielding a six-strong team — five and a quarter if you counted me — and still had an entire game to play.

'We've got ten minutes to the off. Thursday, get changed into Snake's spare set - he's about your size.'

I dashed off to the changing rooms and dressed myself up in Snake's leg guards and shoulder pads. Widdershaine helped me adjust the straps around my chest and I grabbed a spare mallet before running back on to the field, fiddling with my helmet strap just as Aubrey was beginning his strategy talk.

'In past matches,' he said in a hushed tone, 'the Whackers have been known to test a weak side with a standard "Bomperini" opening tactic. A deflective feint towards midhoop left but actually aiming for an undefended backhoop right.'

The team whistled softly.

'But we'll be ready for them. I want them to know we're playing an aggressive game. Instead of backfooting it we'll go straight into a surprise roquet manoeuvre. Smudger, you're to lead with a sideways deflection to Biffo, who'll pass to Thursday—

'Wait,' put in Biffo, 'Thursday is here making up the numbers. She hasn't hit a ball in years!'

This was true. But Jambe had bigger plans.

'Exactly. I want them to think Thursday is a dark horse — that we planned this late addition. With a bit of luck they'll waste a good player marking her. Thursday, drive it towards their red ball and Spike will intercept. It doesn't matter if you miss - I want them to be confused by our tactics. And Penelope -just frighten the other team.'

'Urg,' grunted the wingwoman.

'Okay, keep it tight, no more violence than is necessary and keep an eye out for the Duchess. She's not averse to a bit of ankle swiping.'

We all tapped our fists together and made a 'harrump' noise. I walked slowly to my place on the green, my heart beating with the pump of adrenalin.

'You okay?'

It was Aubrey.

'Sure.'

'Good. Let's play some croquet.'

38

WCL Superhoop '88

2.00 p.m., Saturday, 22 July 1988, Swindon Stadium, Wessex

Reading Whackers:

Tim O'Fathens (captain),

Carolyn 'The Mark' Mays, midfield

Ralph 'The Book' Spurrier, forward striker

'Bonecrusher' McSneed, forward hoop

George 'Rhino' McNmty, striker

Emma 'TV Longhurst. defence

Louis Sherwin-Stark, roquet-taker

Han 'Magnet' Ismail, forward hoop