The beautiful woman in the players� box fans herself with a Thomas Pynchon novel. Fifteen feet below, her partner is sweating it out in the quarter-finals of the French Open.

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The beautiful woman in the players' box fans herself with a Thomas Pynchon novel. Fifteen feet below, her partner is sweating it out in the quarter-finals of the French Open.

The hazy atmosphere of the Philippe Chatrier court is punctuated by animated shouts from a man you just would not argue with who sits next to the woman, regularly leaning forward as a victim of tension.

Team Murray are at work and play. AsAndyMurray loses to Fernando Gonzalez in four sets, Kim Sears, his girlfriend, is there to commiserate. Matt Little, his fitness coach, stops shouting and leaves to prepare another programme for his mate and boss. Miles Maclagan, his coach, reveals nothing in his expression.

The physio, Andy Ireland, prepares to head to the dressing room to address the aches inflicted by a cruel afternoon in the sun.

The disappointment is shared.

Yet the cumulative effect of sitting near Team Murray has been to appreciate that this is a happy camp.

This impression is strengthened when Murray speaks enthusiastically about his personal and professional life. The two collide as Murray careers in orbit around the world. The young Scot would have it no other way.

The road to the top is not lonely for Murray. It has also become smoother as he has assembled a travelling party that benefits him both professionally and personally. This is not just idle talk. Watching Murray at the practice courts at Wimbledon last year, it was obvious that this was a man who was happy in his work and happy with his colleagues.

"That's one of the big differences," Murrayadmits. "Itravelled with a coach allthe time. Just me and him. It was just toomuch. We spent too much time with eachother." Murray is referring to his time with the American Brad Gilbert but it could havebeen anyone.

The demanding, almost claustrophobic, relationship between player and coach has to be handled carefully. Murray has diffused the tension by streaming it into four distinct personalities.

"You have got to be friends but at the sametime it is a profession. It is business," hesays. "Now Iam travelling with a few more guys it is taking the pressure off.

You do not have to do everything together all the time. We can spend some time apart and it is much easier to be friends that way. Iget on with all of them. Ihave known all of them for a long time."

That ease in company is reflected by the banter that resounds around practice courts all over the world. "Yeah, Iget slagged," he admits. He always returns it with interest.

Life with Team Murray is not restricted to the courts or the gym, though. "Iwill eat with them because Ienjoy doing that. But if Idon't want to, it's not a problem. It's not as if Iam leaving someone to eat on their own. They have the other guys to have dinner with."

The relationship stretches beyond exercise and technique. "It is more fun than Ihave had before but everyone cares what is going on with everyone else. It is not just about business," he says.

This support is vital to Murray. Those who have watched the youngster drive to the top of world tennis might be surprised to hear him say quietly: "Ilove tennis but tennis is not all-important. My family and friends are much more important."

This inflicts a huge dent on the perception of the Scot as a man who lives for nothing more than the next shot. But it is crucial in coming to an understanding of just who Murray is and how he has survived to becomea top player. "Being away from family, moving away from home was tough," he says of leaving as a 15-year-old to hone his arts at the Sanchez-Casal academy in Barcelona. The distance between him and hisfamily has increased in geographical terms over the years but it is crossed by phone calls and texts. Family members also travel to tournaments but Murray admits: "That's the one thing about my life: Imiss seeing my family. They all live in Scotland and, even when Iam back home, Ispend all my time inLondon training. Isuppose Ihave got usedto it but it is still difficult."

This no bleat. It is a simple statement of what is and what can not be changed. Murraynever seeks sympathy. He is a young man who is aware of what tennis has given him. He is a millionaire with even bigger pay days ahead. But he knows that there is a price to be paid for the view from the top of the sporting mountain.

There is the emotional fatigue of separation from the people one loves but there is also thephysical grind of the tennis circuit. "Youget tired," he admits. "You have to motivate yourself to train rather than taking a holiday and relax. That is not easy to do. There is a sacrifice you need to make with social things. It is a bit like boxers leading up for a fight. You have to shut yourself away."

This isolation is not complete. Murray has been involved in a relationship with Kim Sears, daughter of the tennis coach Nigel, for more than three years. Much of it is conducted necessarily by telephone as Murray travels the world and his partner attends to her business as a student of English literature. "It's a great release to talk to her at the end of the day. And, no, we do not speak much about Federer's backhand," hesays with a smile. "It is important on the tennis side that you have to have the right people around you. But there are much more important things. When you get home from tournaments it is nice to have someone there and it's great not having to talk about tennis.

You can get away and take the dog for a walk, try to live a normal life. It is not like Iam playing tennis for my dog.

But it is niceto know that when you are working, you are working for something. Kim is very importantto me."

Ms Sears is not " a party animal".

And neither is Murray. It is hard to discern whether this is wholly a result of his dedication to tennis. Murray, even at 22, just seems too grown-up, too focused on what it is important to him personally as well as professionally to do anything as silly as trip out of a nightclub in the early hours of the morning. It was apparent, even as a teenager, that he was certain of his path and had the strength of will to walk it. "Ihave never had a sports psychologist," he confirms. "Nothing at all against them, but Ijust feel Ido not need one."

There is a simplicity in his vision that is reflected in his life off court. A laugh with mates, a serious computer games habit, a steady girlfriend, a loving family and a Border terrier, Maggie, that he takes for walks along the Thames when he is back in London seem to be the major ingredients of an ordinary life for an extraordinary young man.

The future is straightforward, too. He just wants to win the next match. And the one after that, and after that . . .

But what will happen when the body succumbs to age and professional tennis has to be discarded?

Even in his early 20s, Murray has come up with a plan for a day that should be a decade away. "Ido look beyond tennis," he says. "Ithink it is very important to have a plan for what Iwill do after Istop playing. Iwant to have something to keep me occupied. Hopefully, it is a long time away but Ihave the odd idea. Iam sure Iwill stay in tennis. Iwould like to have an academy of some sort. Idon't know where."

Murray, too, has homes on both sides of the Atlantic and this has prompted an interest in property. He can be found hunched over a computer looking at development opportunities or homes for sale. There is no ambition, however, to rake in millions.

"Money is important but it does not motivate me. It never has. When you play against Nadal or Federer, the nerves you get from that have nothing to do with the prize money. It is about beating them. Iaccept that this will be impossible to replicate after professional tennis. But Idon't want to get to the end of my career and then say What Iam going to do?' Iwant to have something that Ienjoy doing and can interest and motivate me."

For the moment, though, how is life? "Everything is good just now," he says. Heknows, though, that Wimbledon offers theopportunity for it to get considerably better.