Tennis, anyone?

While my second cousin Doug Stewart and I were sorting my grandparents’ prejudices out in the kitchen Bev and Ellen were having some girl-talk in the lounge. When we all got together afterwards we all had stories to tell each other. But Bev’s took the prize.
It was another of those coincidences that occur in a small country. When Bev and I were in Panmure, forty years earlier, she took up social tennis at Bishop Park, the local club. She graduated to competition work and played in one of the more modest grades.
On Saturday, she discovered that for all of our Panmure years, Ellen had been in the same club, played in some of the same “away” matches and attended the same social functions. They never knew they were both related by marriage.