Spinner (17 page)

Hall didn't look at David, but because everyone else did, he knew this had something to do with him.

‘Ken,' warned Hampton.

‘One big happy family, like the cap'n says. I didn't write it.'

David was dressed and decided to leave the dressing room.

Mr Richardson was arguing with Mr Livingston and Mr Biggins in the card room.

‘Unless you give him a bowl, you will make us all look ridiculous,' said Livingston.

‘I think you've already done that when you picked him in the side,' retorted Richardson. ‘I'm merely trying to win a Test match.'

David moved away from the door. He thought he might go outside, to get away from the arguments. It seemed that today was to be no easier than the day before.

He saw the newspaper on the seat outside. He sat near it, but didn't intend to read. He looked out to the gathering crowd, then instantly away again. The cartoon caught his eye. It had a picture of a giant, with a helmet and armour and weapons. A caption at the top read:
David and Goliath? my sling.'

David thought it was amusing. He opened the paper and found a photograph of Henry Longford bending down and talking to David Donald. The caption read, ‘Longford
consoles Donald, or tells bedtime story.'

A headline said ‘Insult'. It was an article by Charlie O'Toole, the newsman who had been at the rail station. David found his name but was having trouble with the smaller print.

‘That O'Toole's article, Mr Donald?' It was Calligan.

‘Yes, Mr Calligan.'

‘I believe our Mr O'Toole has dreams of his own fame, and turning you into a national insult might be the way he believes he might achieve that. So don't be hurt about it. It's actually not personal, in a way.'

‘No, sir. I'm not.'

‘Good. Then might I have my paper back?' Mr Calligan was smiling.

The crowd had clearly read and agreed with the newspaper because they continued to yell insults as the team took the field. David ignored the distant noise and went to Mr Richardson. ‘Can I bowl, Mr Richardson?'

‘Not yet, David.'

‘I think I can bowl O'Malley out.'

‘Good. Keep thinking that way. But it's a new day and the ball is not very old and I want to use my main bowlers. Do you understand?'

‘But I don't need an old ball.'

‘No. Go and field behind Legal.'

David now knew he'd been consigned to his hidden position on the field, behind Mr Calligan. His sole task here was to retrieve any straight drives that had reached the boundary.

He got into position and clapped with the rest of the team as Longford and O'Malley came out to resume their
innings. Longford was on fifty-five, O'Malley on ten. David had an awful thought. If either Hampton or Calligan got O'Malley out before David could bowl at him, what would happen to his uncle's big bet?

Longford defended against a few balls as he got his eye in, before hitting his first boundary for the day. David was pleased to see that it was hit square and nowhere near him. Mr Longford was not going to embarrass him again this morning. The sun was high already, but not as hot as the day before.

O'Malley blocked solidly too, after a Longford single, protecting his stumps as though they were his life. David had to field behind Hampton next over. Longford struck the ball solidly on the off side and McLeod dived sideways to stop it. The crowd applauded until McLeod tossed the ball to David, who dropped it. The crowd jeered loudly, as David gathered it up and concentrated on rubbing the polished side.

‘Yer gunna give me that ball, David, or wear it out?' said Hampton. He was smiling.

David trotted over to give the fast bowler the ball.

‘Sorry I missed you for dinner, Ten Ton. Did you call your wife last night?'

‘Yes mate. And this morning. Janey, my oldest, has a bit of a cough on, you see. We think she's allergic to the grass seeds.'

‘I hope she's all right,' said David.

Then Paul Hampton did a big mime act. He suddenly nodded, then looked around at Longford, then looked back to David and pointed at him nodding again.

‘What are you doing?' said David.

‘Want them all to think you've just given me advice on
how to get him out.'

Longford's smile suggested no one was being fooled, but it gave David an idea. A couple of overs later, when David next had the chance to hand Hampton the ball, he said, ‘The top of his off stump. The only time he's got a gap is when he fancies a drive. He moves forward, to give himself room and plays just a little bit away from his body. Off the pitch, with slight inswing, and you could knock over off stump I reckon.'

‘You're a funny bugger,' laughed Hampton.

‘You'd probably have to move McLeod away from mid-off to leave a big gap there to encourage him to go for it.'

‘Are you blokes right?' yelled Richardson. He gestured for Hampton to hurry it up.

Hampton bowled normally at the stumps and Longford cut him to the fence. After some more overs, as Longford fairly raced to eighty runs, Hampton went to Richardson and they had a brief discussion.

Calligan was taken off, and McLeod brought on to bowl. David went to Richardson. ‘Can I bowl, Mr Richardson?'

‘Let the child bowl, for goodness sake,' said O'Malley. ‘We don't want tears before bedtime.'

‘Thanks, Bill,' said Richardson to the batsman. ‘Not now, David.'

‘But...'

‘Not now,' said Richardson.

Next Hampton over, McLeod did not go back to mid-off after he'd bowled, but moved to the on side. Paul winked at David as he turned at the beginning of his run. He bowled, and Longford drove the ball for four through the newly vacant mid-off area.

The crowd groaned. Richardson looked concerned. David
said quietly, ‘Nice set-up ball, Ten Ton.' When Longford also hit the next delivery for four, David was worried that Richardson would lose his patience, or Hampton his nerve. He did have to bowl the ball just right.

Paul Hampton bowled Longford out on the next ball. Longford hung his bat out a little, and got a slight inside edge which sent the ball into his stumps. The English captain was out for eighty-eight runs. Everyone was running to Ten Ton and congratulating him.

‘Nice nut, big bloke,' yelled Hall.

‘Very clever,' nodded Richardson.

‘Can I bowl now, Mr Richardson?'

‘No!'

England were two for one hundred and twenty-one when Windsor strode imperiously to the wicket. Windsor was considered to be England's most damaging batsman. He could turn a game in a session, and could play shots all over the ground. He took no prisoners, they used to say on the radio, and David studied him closely. He had no chin, and small lips and blossoms of blond curls that reminded David of a statue of a Roman leader he'd seen in a school art book.

Windsor stroked Hampton's first ball to the boundary. He drove and pulled and hooked. He was particularly vicious against McLeod. With only a few overs to go until lunch Windsor had already raced to forty-three runs. O'Malley had crawled to twenty-one.

As David was changing ends he heard Baker saying, ‘I saw him bowl to you, Skip. Maybe buy a wicket.'

‘David,' said Richardson, tossing him the ball, ‘you're bowling.'

David flexed his fingers. It was O'Malley who would be
facing. He figured that he had a couple of good overs in him before his finger swelled again.

The noise in the Adelaide Oval rose considerably, applause and laughter competing with anger and yells.

Richardson started pointing and calling. ‘Chalkie, you can stay in slip. Maud, out on that boundary. Ten Ton can you go down to deep gully. Ned, further back.'

‘No,' said David, going up to his captain. ‘Mr Richardson, that's not how I'll get him out.'

‘I'm giving you some protection, David.'

‘I don't need it. It's O'Malley. He's going to block me.'

‘Then those players won't be a problem.'

‘No, I want them in a catching position, so we can get him out.'

Richardson put his hands on his hips and took some deep breaths. ‘David, O'Malley has been blocking balls all morning. Why is he suddenly going to give a catch to you?'

David looked at him, trying to understand the question. ‘But that's my bowling. To get him out. I've been planning it and working him out.'

‘Gentlemen,' called Mr Wisden, ‘shall I call lunch now, or are we going to play some cricket?'

‘Just bowl to the field I set. We'll contain them, and then maybe take a catch or two after lunch.'

‘No.'

‘What!' Richardson looked like he'd just been struck.

Baker came forward. ‘Oi, lad. None of that.'

‘If you won't give me the field I need, then I won't bowl,' said David. The field placements were part of the bowling. They were part of the tactics, but also part of why he'd be bowling how he would. To bowl to the field that Richardson wanted to set would say to the batsman that the team had
no faith in the bowler's ability. And taking wickets would be a matter of chance. Why do that, when he could get the fellow out?

‘Are you refusing to do what I ask?' said Richardson.

Other players were coming in.

Windsor was close enough to hear some of it. ‘Complete disarray,' he said with contempt.

Ken Hall smiled and said, ‘There ya go, Cap'n. Disobeying and all that. You got your wish. Out of the team.'

‘What's going on?' said Hampton arriving from the boundary.

‘Won't bowl to the captain's field,' said Baker.

‘He told me how to get Longford out, boss,' said Hampton.

‘Oh right,' said McLeod.

‘Taking Maud out of mid-off was his idea.'

‘Time for just one over before lunch, gentlemen,' called Mr Wisden calmly.

The noise around the ground had dropped to a rumble. Booing could be heard.

Windsor chimed in again. ‘Is it your intention to talk your way to a draw?'

‘Put a cork in it,' shot back Hall.

‘Jack,' said Richardson, ‘can you persuade your compatriot to follow my instructions?'

Jack Tanner looked at David. David looked back. He was not going to bowl badly. People had been trying to make him do that all his life, and he would not do it. Not then and not now. ‘I can get O'Malley out.'

Tanner finally said, ‘Give him his field, then we'll know, eh?'

David tried not to smile. Tanner was only looking to the
captain.

Calligan spoke up too. ‘Point is, John, this could be your out clause, with Biggins and Livingston. Just following orders yourself.'

‘Oh, right. Backside covered and that's all that matters. I'm trying to win a Test. Just one.' He stopped and pointed at David, ‘David, you are driving me insane. Do you understand that?'

‘No, sir.'

They laughed. Even Hall.

‘Look, Gov,' said Jackson, eyeing the booing crowd, ‘seeing as we may not even get out of here alive, why don't we put on the full show? Place the field, turn the screws and do what you did with Dorrington. Scare O'Malley out.'

‘Or bore 'im out,' said Maud.

‘Very well, Master Donald, where would you like my team?'

‘But Mr Richardson, a captain always sets the field with his bowler,' pleaded David.

‘Don't push it, son,' said Johnson.

And so they set the field as O'Malley and Windsor stood together in the middle of the pitch watching.

David set two slips and another player on the off-side. There was a backward point and an extra cover. He set two players on the on side, one at mid wicket and one at square leg. Most of these were decoys. David was planning a catch to Maud McLeod at silly point.

Maud looked uncomfortable, but smiled as he said, ‘For the sake of my children's children, don't bowl a lollipop kid, or I'll lose me head.'

The cries from the outer were getting louder. There were lots of boos and calling. There was also a banging that may
have been feet stamping in a grandstand.

‘They're not the only ones getting impatient,' called Mr Fitzmorris from square leg.

‘My theory,' said Windsor, projecting his voice without shouting, ‘is they are too scared to bowl to us. I think the crowd has “cottoned on” as you say.'

O'Malley wandered back to his crease and reset his guard. ‘Mr Wisden, could I have middle stump thank you.'

Mr Wisden signalled where his bat needed to be.

Windsor called down the wicket, ‘Hit the little stinker for a single will you, William? I'd like a good crack at him.' Then Windsor turned to look at David. David nodded and smiled. Windsor poked his tongue out. David stared, blinking. The great Edward Windsor, soon to run for parliament in Britain, had poked his tongue out. David swung to his team mates to see whether they'd seen. No one was looking. David looked back to the fearsome British batsman, who was casually surveying the field.

‘David,' yelled Richardson, ‘before lunch, please.'

The crowd finally went quiet. Silent.

David focused. He stood at the start of his run. He put the ball in his normal leggie grip and imagined the ball he would bowl, with fingers and wrist spinning the ball straight towards the batsman. He whispered to himself, ‘Donald is ready to bowl. O'Malley waits, thinking about defence.' David bowled flat, but with a lot of top spin. O'Malley came forward a full stride, offering the dead face of the bat. But the ball gripped the wicket as it was supposed to, and it kicked up more than most batsmen would expect. It hit the bat hard and on the rise. The angle of O'Malley's bat was downward, so when the ball struck it headed forward but down. Maud McLeod dived full length and got a hand
under it. He held up the ball. Wisden put up his finger.

The crowd seemed to gasp, then laugh as one. Then the chatter of a thousand arguments began, like rain on the shed roof at home.