Jessica by the Tennis Court
by alan14
Copyright© 2026 by alan14
Jessica was sitting in a less than comfortable deckchair watching a game of tennis.
As usual, she was immaculately dressed in a pink polo shirt, white tennis shorts and sunglasses. A jug of iced Pimm’s was close at hand on a low table.
The tennis court was in the grounds of a very exclusive country house hotel in the Cotswolds. On the court was an absolute vision, and she was currently running her mother ragged.
“I told you, mother, replacing your cigarettes with those infernal vapes wasn’t good enough,” the girl demanded between points. “you need to quit completely and take up regular exercise.”
“Or maybe I quit tennis and enjoy myself ... I should do that now and find you a new tennis partner ... oh ... excuse me,” the mother called in Jessica’s direction, “would you mind awfully playing the rest of my game ... my daughter has become terribly demanding.”
Jessica slipped off the deck chair and approached the court, taking the mother’s racquet, “no problem ... why don’t you finish my Pimm’s before the ice melts.”
Jessica was a proficient tennis player, but her opponent was better. However, Jessica’s game was bolstered by her secret weapon, her distractingly well-upholstered chest. As Jessica served, her opponent didn’t know where to look, so she won most of her service games.
Ultimately, her opponent was just too good, and Jessica lost the match; she stepped up to the net to shake her opponent’s hand.
“Jessica Brown,” she announced, “you play well.”
“Thank you ... you bounce well,” her opponent smiled, “Sherry Trifle.”
Jessica raised her eyebrows, “is that dessert, or your name?”
“I’m afraid my father was somewhat drunk when he gave me that name,” Sherry replied as they headed over to the showers.
“I don’t think I’ve heard of the surname Trifle before,” Jessica mused as she quickly stripped before stepping into the communal shower.
“It’s a very old name, dating back to the Norman times, it comes from Trufle, a French name,” Sherry replied as she joined Jessica in the shower.
Out of her clothes, Sherry looked even better.
She was tall, 5’10” at least, slender, with small breasts, around the size of an orange. She had strawberry blonde hair, with a matching rosy complexion. Her hair had been held in a ponytail whilst she was out on the court, but she’d freed it before undressing, and it cascaded below her shoulders.
It was one of Jessica’s most memorable showers.
Their meeting wasn’t coincidental.
Jessica had spent the last few days researching the family, one of England’s oldest. They lived in a run-down manor house in the west country. At over 600-years-old, it was still considerably younger than the family. The house stood in hundreds of acres of farmland, much of the land was orchards, but there was plenty of grazing for dairy cattle and sheep.
She wasn’t totally sure of her mission, but until she found out what it was, she was going to stick close to Sherry.
Which was no hardship.
Showered, dried and dressed; the girls stepped out into the mid-afternoon sunshine.
“Ahh, mummy’s gone ... how much Pimm’s did you leave?”
“About half the jug,” Jessica replied.
“Oh dear, she’ll be doing something inappropriate with someone ... which training sessions are on this afternoon?”
“Golf, I think...” Jessica replied.
“Of course, she’ll be on the putting lawn; she’s been mooning over the golf pro since we arrived.”
The golf course was about a 20-minute walk away, so Jessica commandeered a golf buggy, Sherry hopped in beside her, and they dashed off as fast as the buggy would carry them (about 10-mph).
A few minutes later they reached the putting lawn, where Frances, Sherry’s mother, was indeed mooning over the golf pro, who was gamely ignoring her as he showed a pair of elderly spinsters how to correctly hold a golf club.
Sherry jumped out of the golf cart before Jessica had even stopped and stormed across the lawn.
Jessica was transfixed by the way Sherry’s ponytail bounced as she strode up to her mother; she was the most beautiful girl she’d met in a long time. She hoped Sherry wasn’t her target.
“Come with me, mother,” Sherry said sternly as she grasped her mother’s arm firmly, leading her to the back seat of the commandeered buggy.
“Who’s your driver?” Frances asked as Sherry buckled her seatbelt so she wouldn’t fall out, “she’s very pretty.”
“This is Jessica, mother, you met her before, when she finished your tennis match, while you finished her Pimm’s.”
“Oh yes, did you win?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Where to?” Jessica asked.
“We’re staying in the East annex.”
Jessica raised an eyebrow; the East annex was a single apartment bigger than her house. When she booked her room, she had noticed the rate for Annexes was over £1,500 a night. Considering the Trifle family were essentially bankrupt, she wondered where the money had come from.
“That’s a big suite for three people,” she said.
“Daddy has a business contact staying, and they’re using another bedroom for meetings.”
Jessica nodded at Sherry’s reply, logging the information.
“Can you wait for me?” Sherry asked as she decanted her sleeping mother from the back seat.
“I can do better than that,” Jessica replied as she switched off the buggy, “you grab her arms, I’ll grab her legs.”
“You look like you’ve done this before,” Sherry observed as they carried her mother indoors.
“Once or twice,” Jessica replied, and they weren’t always breathing when I carried them, she thought, but didn’t tell Sherry.
They laid Frances on one of the beds, turned a radio on low, then left the Annex.
“Will she be OK?”
“You know how you’ve carried people once or twice,” Sherry replied, “well I’ve done that many times before.”
“Ahh ... where’s your father?”
“He’s either mooning over the prettiest chambermaid, or drinking in the clubhouse ... I’m surprised he’s not noticed you yet...”
“Maybe he has,” Jessica replied, “I’ve had to brush off a couple of guys since I arrived.”
“Only a couple...” Sherry replied, a twinkle in her eyes.
They returned the golf buggy to where they’d found it, then went to the pool for a swim.
They had the pool house to themselves, so took the opportunity to skinny dip.
As they swam lengths, they chatted about life, or rather, Jessica quizzed Sherry about her life, as Jessica’s life wasn’t really one she could share with outsiders.
Jessica worked, or rather freelanced, for an agency. The agency was secretive, extremely secretive. So secretive, that often Jessica would have very little clue about her mission beyond the name of the target.
For this reason, she often tried to engage with the target, or at least someone connected to the target.
And if the person connected to the target was as beautiful and fun to be with as Sherry, then that was simply a bonus she would grasp with both hands ... often literally.
After their swim, they moved to the sauna, then the showers, then the bar.
“Ahh, there he is,” Sherry whispered, surreptitiously pointing to a pair of club chairs in the corner by a wall of books that looked like they’d not been removed from the shelves since they were published a couple of hundred years ago.
Jessica looked over without moving her head, “which one?”
“On the left, holding the whisky glass.”
“Ahh, he’s not one of the weirdos who followed me around.”
“I’m sure it won’t be long before he does.”
“Do you want to try the outdoor bar?” Jessica asked.
“No, I like this one. If we sit in the other window he won’t see us.”
They carefully made their way around the vast room and chose a table with two similar green-leather club chairs. It wasn’t long before a waiter appeared.
Jessica ordered afternoon tea for two with champagne, Sherry looked worried until Jessica asked for it to be added to her room.
“Who’s the guy with your father?” Jessica asked, “he looks a bit out of place in this hotel.”
“I don’t know ... daddy has been looking into some new business venture, the men who’ve visited our house mostly sound Russian.”
“Ahh, that figures, because that guy is wearing a suit bought in Moscow.”
“How do you even know that?” Sherry asked, amazed.
“My job has taken me to Moscow a few times.”
Jessica was now almost certain who her target was.
“And what is your job?”
“I’m a kind of fixer. If people have a problem, I fix it.”
“What kind of problems?”
“Like, if someone has a dispute over an asset, I help to clear the dispute.”
“I don’t think you could be more vague if you tried,” Sherry laughed, “I think you’re a spy ... or maybe,” she added, leaning forward and looking deep into Jessica’s eyes, “you’re an ... assassin.”
“The kind of job where I have to kill you if you discover my secret, you mean?”
“Ahh ... maybe forget I said that,” Sherry replied nervously.
“It’s a good job I’m not an assassin then, isn’t it,” Jessica smiled as she selected a delicate cream cheese and cucumber sandwich.
“What shall we do now?” Jessica asked later as they finished their champagne.
“I don’t want to go back to my room yet ... I’d like daddy to find mother.”
“No problem, we could go for a walk around the grounds ... or we could go back to my room...”
“Why not both?” Sherry replied brightly, “walk first, then your room.”
Sherry held Jessica’s hand as they walked through one of the hotel’s many ornate gardens, this one apparently designed by Capability Brown when George III was on the throne.
“Our house is much older than this hotel,” Sherry told Jessica as they watched a dancing water display in the middle of an ornamental pond, “although our house isn’t as nice ... it’s a bit of a dump, if I’m honest. Daddy has closed off loads of rooms because they’re too expensive to heat in winter, so those rooms are all damp and mouldy.”
Jessica learned that Sherry spent very little time at home with her parents, having been at boarding school since she was 8, and now she’s 18, will be off to Cambridge in September.
“Oh, I like your room...” Sherry gushed as she stood in the bay window looking across the grounds.
It was, indeed, a very nice room, one of the nicest she’d ever stayed in; with a huge 4-poster bed, walls lined with oil paintings, and a bay window with a great view of the grounds...
“You can see our Annex!” Sherry exclaimed.
Which was no coincidence.
“These are very fancy binoculars...” Sherry observed, lifting a pair of Leica binoculars with a built-in laser rangefinder, “Jessica ... have you been spying on me?” she asked warily.
“Not you, honey...” Jessica replied.
“My father?”
“Not your father, either.”
“But you are a spy...”
“Not a spy, no ... I wasn’t lying when I said I fix problems.”
“Is the problem related to my family?”
“It seems to be ... your father is spending too much money for someone who claims to be broke...”
“How do you know?”
“Well, your annex is more than £1,500 a night ... and your school is over £15,000 a term...”
“So, you are spying on him...”
“Tangentially...” Jessica admitted, “but only because he’s doing business with some people I am spying on.”
“The Russians!”
“Yes, the Russians.”
Jessica’s phone rang, the intro to Faithless’s God is a DJ, her controller. She answered.
“Is she with you?” the voice asked.
“Yes...”
“The target and her father have just left the grounds. Agent 13 is tailing them. I’ll call you with an update as soon as I have one.”
“So, I’ve got a few hours to spare.”
“Yes,” the voice sighed as they cut the connection.
“What was that about?”
“Nothing sweetie, it seems we have some free time,” Jessica replied as she removed her polo shirt and tossed it to one side.
Sherry followed Jessica’s lead, quickly removing her few garments and they tumbled onto the big bed.
“That was fun...” Sherry sighed, “I’ve never done it with a girl before.”
“Really?” Jessica asked, surprised, “you seemed to know exactly what you were doing.
“Well, I’ve kissed girls, and I’ve watched a few lesbian films, so I had a basic idea what to do ... and ... apart from your big boobs, you have nothing I don’t have, and I know exactly how to get myself off, so I just assumed if it works on me, it should work on you.”
“It seems your assumption was correct.”
Sherry rolled on top of Jessica, “are your boobs real?”
“What do you think?”
“I think they’re real ... they moved well on the tennis court.”
“Everything about me is real,” Jessica replied, “I hated my tits when I was at school, because they grew early, and quickly. In year 8 I was about 4’11” with huge tits, all the boys stared at me and all the girls hated me ... that’s when I learned how to fight.”
“But, you’re tall now...”
“That was year 9, I grew 6 inches that year, which annoyed my mum, as she had to keep buying new clothes and shoes. I stopped growing in year 11, which was nice, as I never wanted to be a basketball player.”
“I was goal attack in Netball, the obvious job for the tallest girl in school,” Sherry laughed.
“And your height makes you good at tennis; I could barely return any of your serves.”
“And your boobs make you difficult to play against; I didn’t know where to look.”
“I’m glad they gave me an edge; you’re the toughest opponent I’ve ever faced on court.”
“Do we have time for a little more fun,” Sherry asked.
“We do ... but if my phone rings, I have to answer it.”
They were finished and dressing for dinner when Jessica’s phone rang, the bassline from Blue Monday this time, Agent 13.
“Hey Billi,”
“No names you daft cow...”
“Ahh yes, I keep forgetting.”
“That’s because you’re a real blonde ... anyway, the target is back in the grounds, with Gerald Trifle ... how is that a real name, anyway?”
“It’s from the French name Trufle, the family came over with William the Conqueror apparently.”
“Ahh ... so they’re old money.”
“They were, now they’re no money, hence the current situation.”
“Ahh...” Agent 13 replied as she cut the call.
Jessica turned to Sherry; she was wearing one of her dresses. It looked OK on her after she’d taken it in a little with a couple of stitches.
To be honest, Sherry was built like a supermodel, so practically anything would look good on her.
Frances and Gerald were in the dining room when they entered.
“Will it be awkward if we sit with my parents?”
“I think it’ll be more awkward if we don’t ... introduce me as your tennis partner, in case your mother has forgotten again.”
They approached Sherry’s family table, letting go of each other’s hand as Frances turned to look at them.
“Is it OK if Jessica joins us for dinner?”
“Of course it is,” Frances replied.
Jessica watched in amusement as Frances tried to remember who she was, pleased that Sherry was happy to leave her floundering.
“Yes ... we met earlier, you drive one of those golf cart things ... but why are you eating in the restaurant?”
“Mother!” Sherry scolded, “Jessica is a guest here, she was my tennis partner this morning after you ducked out.”
“Ahh ... yes...” Frances replied, still a little bewildered.
Jessica waited for Sherry to sit before taking the seat opposite, they looked at the menu.
She was hungry after the sport and the sex, so Jessica chose the Beef Wellington. She saw the look of worry cross Gerald’s face.
“It’s OK, I’m on company time, we can put this meal on my bill...”
Then Jessica saw the look of annoyance cross Gerald’s face. Clearly, they’d already ordered the cheapest items on the menu.
“What line of work are you in,” Gerald asked as the waiter cleared their starters away.
“Corporate trouble shooting,” she replied.
“And you’re working now?”
“Well, not right now ... unless you have any trouble that needs shooting.”
“But you’re here with work.”
“I am, and it’s the kind of work that warrants several non-disclosure agreements...”
“Of course...” Gerald replied.
“What brings you here, Mr Trifle,” Jessica asked as she cut into her beef wellington.
“Please call me Gerald,”
“OK Gerald, are you here on business or pleasure?”
“Ahh, Frances and Sherry are here for pleasure. I’m here to meet a potential business partner.”
“I’ve seen your suite, Gerald, I’m sure there are cheaper places to meet business partners.”
“Of course, but my contact enjoys the ambience, so he stays here whenever he’s in the country ... and Frances enjoys the sports on offer.”
“Not as much as she enjoys the sports professionals,” Sherry broke in.
“Quite...” Gerald replied, unable to think of anything else to say.
“So, what are your plans for the future?” Jessica asked.
“What do you mean?” Gerald asked by way of reply.
“After your business deal goes through...”
“I don’t think I can answer that ... after all, we also have non-disclosure agreements.”
“Of course ... anyway, the meal is on me ... enjoy your evening,” Jessica replied as she cleared her plate, “I’ll ask the waiter to bring another round of drinks.”
“Where are you going?” Sherry asked.
“I’m just going for a stroll to work off that delicious dinner. You’re welcome to join me.”
They strolled hand-in-hand across the main lawn towards the ornate gateway.
“What did you mean before, when you asked daddy about his plans?”
“I’ll tell you in a minute, once we’ve met up with Billi, my colleague. Then I need you to stay with Billi while I go to work.”
“Where are we going,” Sherry asked as they left the hotel grounds and set off along the narrow, unlit, country road.
“Just through here,” Jessica replied, leading Sherry down an even narrower lane, stopping beside an old campervan that looked like it last visited a carwash before the Millennium Bug was conceived.
The side door slid open before Jessica had chance to knock, they were greeted by a very pretty woman in her early 20’s. She had short, jet-black hair, a My Chemical Romance t-shirt and black denim shorts, her feet were bare, her toenails painted purple.
Sherry wasn’t sure she’d ever met anyone quite like Billi, but she liked her instantly.
“Hey kids, hop aboard.”
Seating wasn’t abundant in the back of the van, so Sherry shared a chair with Jessica, it was a squeeze, but they’d been much closer a couple of hours earlier.
Billi lifted the lid off a cooler and tossed them a couple of cans of cider.
“Billi did not enjoy a classical education,” Jessica laughed, “so isn’t aware of drinking vessels, or cocktails.”
“Not using drinking vessels means I never have to wash up,” Billi replied.
“So, what did you learn?” Jessica asked as she cracked open her cider.
“I learnt that Sergei drives way too fast for these roads, so it’s lucky I’d managed to hack his GPS unit so I could follow at a distance. They drove out to the canal where they met with four other guys, two Russians and a couple I think were North Korean. They discussed the price for the house, then about the alterations that would be needed to make the buildings suitable for their needs.”
“Did they mention what those needs are?” Jessica asked.
“Meeting rooms, classrooms, studios, secure comms rooms. One barn would be turned into a server farm; another would have satellite dishes mounted.”
“Wait...” Sherry exclaimed, “are you suggesting these men are buying our house?”
“Yes, I am,” Billi replied calmly.
“We’ve lived there since before the reformation,” Sherry exclaimed, even louder now, her face flushed, “a few Popes have visited the house, and Elizabeth I ... you can’t be suggesting daddy is selling it to the Russians!”
“Again, I am.”
“Where will we go?”
“I don’t know where Gerald is going, but you and Frances will be staying, you’re part of the deal.”
“What!”
“The price negotiated, which was in a cryptocurrency I haven’t heard of, so I’ve not been able to check its value yet, included the house, grounds, a boat, and two women ... are there any other women living in the house?”
“No,” Sherry replied, sadly, “daddy had to get rid of the last of the staff two years ago. We have a few farm workers, but none live in the grounds.”
“Hang on,” Jessica broke in, “unless I’m missing something obvious, why are Sherry and Frances included?”
“It’s actually not what you think, although I’m sure it will reach that point when the Russians get a look at Sherry ... it seems to me from the negotiations, which were in Russian, did you know your father spoke Russian?”
“No ... he learnt Latin and Greek in school, obviously...”
“Obviously...” Billi laughed, “we did French ... sorry, carry on...”
“Daddy, mother and I ... and I think Jessica ... we went to boarding schools, we learnt Greek and Latin, so we could study the classics from the original texts. Not useful for ordering dinner in Paris, but useful to understand how civilisation developed. Anyway, I went to a different school to daddy, so I don’t know if he was taught Russian there or leant it later.”
“And honestly, it doesn’t matter, and I didn’t mean to offend you before. I learnt Russian in college, luckily, so I could follow most of the conversation. The Russian guys wanted the house and grounds, the Korean guys, if that’s what they are, were interested in some of the outbuildings and daddy’s Land Rover, but he seemed much keener to keep that than he was to keep you and Frances, because he practically forced them to take you both.”
Sherry was practically boiling with rage now, “what would they do with us?” she managed to ask.
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