TO SOLIHULL and back. The road to Jamie Murray’s personal and professional fulfilment has been pockmarked by lazy comparisons and diverted by one wrong turn.

Two years ago he was running out of road.

He makes his debut next week at the lucrative Barclays ATP World Tour finals in London and he is scheduled to play a crucial role as Team GB contest the Davis Cup final, the world cup of tennis. Reaching 30 next year, he is at the height of his career, rated the seventh best doubles player on the planet and contesting two grand slam finals this year.

So how did a career that seemed to stall kick into raucous life?

How did a sportsman, seemingly condemned to being referred to as “Andy’s big brother”, carve a niche for himself at the elite level?

The answer lies in a moment of reflection in Melbourne two years ago.

“I was not sure I wanted to keep going,” he says.

He had departed the Australian Open tournament in the first round.

Grand slam finals seemed merely a dream, if not a cruel mirage.

Yet this season he has reached the finals at Wimbledon and Flushing Meadows.

Twice as many grand slams this year as his younger brother, I point out.

“I am not sure I am going to win that argument,” he says of a brother who has won the singles championships at Wimbledon and Flushing Meadow and has struck Olympic gold.

Jamie and Andy, of course, were once not so careful about choosing grounds for battle.

Their competitive instincts were highly honed. Their mother, Judy, was a Scottish tennis internationalist. Their father, Willie, was a combative junior footballer. As the brothers stared at each other in the aftermath of a doubles victory in Glasgow in September in front of 8,000 spectators that led to Ghent and the Davis Cup final, there was an evident bond. Sparks flew, though, as that link was forged down the years.

And that brings us to Solihull. “We were on the way back from a big junior tournament. Andy had beaten me in the final of the under 10 or under 12 or something and he was giving me stick about it. I turned round and grabbed his arm rest. I banged his hand with it. His nail did not recover for years. A little reminder for him not to mess with me,” he says. The last is said with a chuckle but the story blows away the theory that Jamie was hampered fatally by a lack of competitiveness.

Jamie’s progress was not constrained by a lack of desire. A conspicuous talent, rated as one of the best youngsters, he more than held his own in an age group that included Rafael Nadal and Richard Gasquet.

At 12, he left Dunblane and was was supposed to take part in the scheme at Bisham Abbey National Sports Centre but Jamie returned home after eight months. “I maybe was a bit overwhelmed by it all,” he adds. He was, of course, just 12. He later watched Andy take a similar journey, to Barcelona.

Andy raced into the elite, becoming part of the Big Four of Roger Federer, Novak Djokovic and Nadal. Jamie became a doubles player. His most conspicuous success came when he won the mixed doubles at Wimbledon with Jelena Jankovic in 2007.

But in the subsequent years he seemed to have more partners than a dancing host on a Saga cruise liner. Just where was Jamie heading?

He pauses, but only briefly. “The lowest moment?” he replies. “That would be at the Australian Open two years ago. I played with Colin Fleming and I had a terrible match. We lost in the first round. I had a ranking draw of about 75 in the world, I did not have any partner. I was not sure I wanted to keep going.”

He was at a crossroads. He was married happily to Alejandra, a Columbian. The travel was tedious, the present gloomy, the prospects dim. He talked with those around him, including a family well aware of the brutal realities of modern tennis. One close associate told me: “Basically, he decided to invest in himself.”

It paid extraordinary dividends. The first, most important development was his decision to commit to a working partnership with John Peers, a 27-year-old Australian. They almost immediately tasted success, beating 13-time Grand Slam champions Bob and Mike Bryan in the final of the US Men’s Clay Court Championships.

He also now works with Dr John Mathers, a sports psychologist at Stirling University. “This has definitely helped, and is one of the reasons why I have headed in the right direction and why my performance level has been a lot higher and more consistent.”

Another significant contribution has been made by Louis Cayer, described as the best doubles coach in the world. Jamie’s game has always been technically sharp. Left-handed and with a gangling, sprawling frame, he is a distinct presence at the net. His volleying is peerless, his ability to make and profit from angles is part instinctive, part a result of experience and inspired coaching.

The journey from Melbourne 2013 has been rewarding. He and Peers have won six ATP titles, Murray has achieved his highest ever doubles ranking. The tour finals in London beckon. It will also serve as a farewell to the partnership. Jamie will play next year with Bruno Soares, a Brazilian ranked higher than Peers.

The Davis Cup has been an extraordinary bonus with Murray playing a huge role with his brother in winning against France and then against Australia. Jamie, with the stereotypical mindset of the elite athlete, wants more. “I am not yet 30 and I believe the best is yet to come.”

He has won half a million dollars this year, taking his earnings to more than £1m since he turned professional in 2004.

His finest hour comes with his brother. Nothing prepared him for September 17 and the febrile atmosphere of the Emirates Arena in the east end of Glasgow. Andy and Jamie walked out on the court to face Lleyton Hewitt and Sam Groth in the doubles rubber. Given Andy’s dominance in the singles, a victory for Team GB in the doubles almost guaranteed them a place in the final against Belgium. Just short of four hours later, the brothers hug after a five-set match that induced delirium in the home crowd.

“It was quite surreal,” he says. “That was a ‘take stock’ moment. When we started out, of course, our parents did not expect us to get where we are – why would you? Scotland had no history of tennis really – but here we are.”

There is that undoubted bond. There was a fraternal hug as the Davis Cup final was reached. And does that competitive spirit of Solihull still exist between the brothers. “Yes, maybe, but not to the point where we are hitting each other in the back of cars,” he says with a smile.