Chapter 1

"Give it some wellie Venus!"

I, Dai ‘The Tennis’ Williams, grinned and smashed the ball across the net with everything I had. There was no offense meant by my friends shouting from the sidelines and I took none because in July 2,000 Venus Williams had just won the Wimbledon championship.

My best friend Serena just managed to get a racquet to the ball but the power was too much and her return gently looped to the net where I smashed it back with such force that the ball bounced right over the court’s fence and then, as the new victorious Venus, I broke into a happy dance

"Make the most of it ‘girlfriend’" Serena called. "It won’t be long before I beat you."

"You’re probably right" I replied with a slight hesitation, but then, regaining the Venus attitude, I turned my back, bent low from the hips and arse-waggled Serena's approaching face.

"Gross!" Serena shouted "You really are a Venus."

"But you only just named me Dai ‘The Tennis’, " I retorted with exasperation.

"I don’t care. While you’re my tennis sparring partner I dub thee ‘Venus’ - Right you lot?" she asked turning to the gang now surrounding us.

"Right on!" Martina whooped. "Venus it is, and if you are going to play with the girls you ought to realllllyyy play with the girls."

"Just so long as she doesn’t expect me to pay for her drinks…" taunted Evan with a leer on his face.

"Enough already! Call me what you like just so long as you let me get to the shower. The film starts in an hour and I must smell like something you really wouldn’t want to sit next to."

With that I took the sweaty headband I’d just removed from my hair to wipe my armpits and draped it across Evan's face before racing for the changing rooms.

"Perhaps I should explain the situation to you while I take a shower - excuse the smell but the wash bag and shampoo is Serena’s.

I’m the best 18 year old tennis player around here but here is Cardiff, not Wimbledon, and tennis isn’t that popular. The second best is Serena and she’s improving fast - she really will beat me soon if I don’t improve. In America Serena would be on some sort of scholarship but in Cardiff we have just been taking our A levels at the local college and trying to work out what comes next.

What goes on my résumé? Six foot (almost), skinny, mixed race (by curtesy of Welsh with Afro-Hispanic caribbean grandfather on one side and pure polynesian grandmother on the other), and 18 years old. No drastic flaws but no major talents. Popular but although my best friend is a girl I've never had a serious sexual relationship with anyone (nor felt inclined to have one to be honest). Likes tennis, plays a little guitar and recorder (don't laugh!), knows a bit about boats and sailing (father's a designer/builder always looking for crew and cheap labour), reasonably domesticated and cooks a mean risotto (mother's an accountant and strong proponent of equal rights, equal responsibilities).

Don’t underestimate me though, I’m no idiot and know I'll almost certainly get good enough exam results to go to university but to do what? Would that just be a way of spending a lot of money to delay answering the question?

In lots of ways I envy the other Venus Williams. Only two years older than me her life has had direction and purpose. At 20 she now has money and fame. A lot of us admirers too as one of the few black women to have had any success at all in tennis.

Me on the other hand, Venus Williams the Younger - What have I got? - What have I done? - Where am I going?

"WHERE IS MY WASHBAG!!?"

"Whoops, sorry Serena but I didn’t think you’d mind."

"Never mind ‘mind’! You’re in the women’s changing room!"

"Don’t be silly Serena there’s nobody else here and after all it was you who insisted on calling me Venus."

"In that case you won’t need these!"

With that my bundle of clothes came flying over the top of the cubical door.
Frantically I scrambled unsuccessfully to catch them and turn off the water at the same time only to end up sitting on them in two inches of water collected in the bottom of the shower.

"Now what do I do you daft biddy?" I complained plaintively

"Oh, don’t be such a girly girl. Hold on a minute, I came here from the cleaners so I can get you something from the car," and a moment later came the sound of the outer door closing and silence until…

"You know she’s going to come back with the most feminine thing she’s got don’t you?" Martina's voice taunted.

"I think I saw an absolutely divine dress on the hanger in her car" Jenny’s voice added.

Blast that meant Gwen was there too.

"There is absolutely no way I am leaving here looking like some she-male hooker! I've worn clothes soaked in the rain before and I’ll do it again." With that I pulled on my soaked underpants and started to struggle into my jeans.

"Don’t be such a drama queen." Gwen’s voice replied after a short pause. "Here, take this towel and dry off. "

With that a large towel appeared over the top of the door and Martina called "I’ve got a jumper and Gwen some Capri pants. You’ll be fine."

Two minute later I was leaving the cubicle with the towel round me when Serena returned.

"I’ve got a jacket you can wear but I’m afraid no trousers" she called as she was turning into the main room toward us, then she stopped.

"Venus? Do you always wear your towel under your armpits?"