Rags 2 Pitches: A Secret Baby Sports Romance (3 page)

Chapter 6

Nicola

As soon as I got through the door, my mum was waiting for me with Dad in the living room.

“Nicola, where were you? We were so worried!”

I had to look around the room and wonder if they were talking about someone else. Sure, I’d left school like an hour after it closed, but for mum to be worried about me… Most of the time, I didn’t even think she noticed when I was in or out of the house.

Dad adjusted his glasses, and his focus wasn’t on me, but on Ryan. “Who are you, young man?”

That was when I found myself explaining what had happened to me, from the robbery to Ryan being so kind to not only try and fight them, but to take down the license plate number. The whole time, Dad wasn’t looking at me, his earth-colored eyes were fixed on Ryan. Mum was listening, but I expected her at any moment to look around the living room, take away her fancy ornaments and lock them up, away from Ryan.

I had never been ashamed of my parents until now.

My dad chuckled, a cynical laugh that I had only ever heard when Mum threatened to leave and divorce him.

“So, I suppose, Rob, you think you’re smart?”

Poor Ryan stood in the doorway.

“Sorry, Dad, his name is Ryan.”

He was trying to be smart and act as if he was talking to the gardener or the cleaner. Dad and being a snob went hand-in-hand, it was so natural to him. After all he came from a family of wealth, unlike Mum whose family wasn’t exactly working class, but compared to Dad’s they were poor.

“I don’t care what his name is. Don’t you think it’s a bit convenient that he came to your rescue after his friends stole your things? What did they steal apart from your iPad? Your purse too?”

I shook my head, waving my hands at Dad before he got any nearer to Ryan. I didn’t even know him, but I felt ashamed.

“Mr. Willis, I can assure you that they are not my friends.”

Ryan was trying to defend himself, but Dad moved me to the side annoyed by my presence and getting more angry by the second. “I told you that he helped me.”

Mum interjected with her eyes half-open, which made me realize that, as usual, she was drunk.

“Well, your father’s right. We don’t know, they could be in cahoots with each other. You know what people like him are like!” She ran to my dad’s arm as if he was a bottle of whiskey, hungry to fulfill her withdrawal symptoms for not washing it down in the last ten minutes or so.

Ryan spoke to me. “Don’t worry, Nicola. Just take the plates and call the police. I’m sure they’ll help you. I’ll see myself out.”

Dad shouted, “No, I’ll make sure you leave. Just in case you want to take anything else.”

“Good idea, darling,” Mum said as she followed them towards the front door.

I was walking behind them, talking to them and they were not listening as usual. I hated them both for the way Ryan looked as he stepped out of the door. Ashamed of who he was and for what my parents had accused him of being. I hated them both especially when my mum said as Dad shut the door, “What happened to the gold angel that was on the centre table?”

She pointed to the centre table which served as a display and no one understood the point of it, especially me. Our house was too big for us, but my dad screamed my name and I ignored him as I marched up the stairs.

I blurted out, “Mum, you probably drank it. You probably thought it was a bottle of gin or something.” I could hear her protesting my claims, Dad on the hand wanted to follow me and give me a piece of his mind. I didn’t care, because I hated the way they had treated the one guy that had paid me any attention in my life. I had decided that I would get to know him better. Not to wind my Dad up, but because he was a good listener. I hadn't told anyone else about the problems at home, but he’d listened and, to a certain degree, I felt as if he empathized with me. That was what I needed, and I locked my door and thought about Ryan Thompson. I needed someone to listen to me and make me feel whole again.

Chapter 7

Ryan

We were from two different worlds and her Dad was right. When others see the likes of me, that is all they see: someone that would steal from them. A guy that would come into their world and bring nothing, but doom and gloom.

I had nothing to offer her, and I looked across the street as I held my brothers’ hands and took them to school as I did every day of the week. I was thankful that Nan had come just in time when social services were going to take them. Nan said that she would help out in the house and make sure that Mum’s latest boyfriend was gone.

She stayed that night, then the next day she was back on to her cleaning job to work the system. In hindsight Nan does work, she always does jobs that pay her cash, just so that she doesn’t have a reduction in her benefits.

“Hey,” Nicola said, standing in front of me. I felt as if I had been running, because sweat started to pour from my forehead. Even though I only had a blazer on, not even a coat, and it was the middle of winter.

“Hey,” I whispered and Rodney, my younger brother said, “Ryan, is this your girlfriend?” He asked so innocently that she blushed as she said, “No, I’m just Ryan’s friend.”

“Pity,” Michael, his twin replied, “You’re really pretty. Are you going to take us to school too?”

I didn’t think it was a question, more of a command as he took Nicola’s hand. She smiled. “Sure, why not?”

I felt so nervous having her so near again, it was kind of like the Lady and The Tramp film. I knew exactly how he felt when he was around his lady. Insignificant and, although he was proud when he was in her presence, he felt like a tramp.

I had purposely got up and left home a little earlier than usual, just so that I wouldn’t see her across the street.

She moved her hair from her eyes and sighed, “Sorry about last night. My dad can be a bit of a pig sometimes.”

“Really, your dad turns into a pig?” Rodney asked and it was clear by her laughter that we weren’t going to have any adult conversation.

“You don’t need to apologize,” I said with a big lump in my throat.

“What’s wrong, Ryan, have you got something in your mouth? Your voice is all weird.”

I loved my little brothers, but they were only nine and had a tendency to say exactly what they were thinking
all
of the time. Which was great when it was happening to other people, but right now with Nicola, it was fucking humiliating.

“A cough, I’ve got a cold.”

Rodney sighed, “That’s weird, you never had a cold this morning.”

It was going to be a long walk to school. Not only were they annoying me, but they were watching my every move; something that they only did when they were suspicious about something.

“Are you sure you’re not my brother’s girlfriend? He’s gone all quiet.”

With those words I took Michael’s hand and said, “You two up front. I just need to speak to Nicola quickly.” They slowly walked in front as if their feet were stuck in mud or something. At the same time they were singing the kissing song, just to get on my last nerve.

“Sorry about that,” I said.

“I don’t mind, I could walk with you to school. Must be nice having brothers, I’ve always wished that there was someone else in the house apart from me and my parents.”

I protested a bit too quickly and abruptly. “No, it’s fine. We pass your school to get to theirs.”

“St. Christopher’s is not that far from Hitherfield.”

She was telling me, not asking me, to let her walk with us. Just because I didn’t have a relationship with my dad didn’t mean that I wanted her to get in trouble with hers.

“If you say so.”

She replied quickly, “I do.”

I didn’t know if winter had all of a sudden turned into summer, but I was so hot being in her presence. Then I told her that I was going to be a footballer, and she changed; it was almost as if she was proud of me. We ignored Rodney and Michael singing the kissing song all the way to school, and then I walked her back to her school.

There was an awkward moment as we stood in front of each other, not knowing what to do next. She was late for school, but that didn’t seem to bother her and she kissed me on the cheek. I knew that it was my turn to do something bolder, something that meant that I wanted her to be mine. I placed my hand on her waist. No one was around, apart from the odd onlooker that would stare, knowing what two teenagers were about to do in front of the school gates. I pressed my lips delicately to hers and whispered, “Laters.”

She smiled as she said, “After school?” We were still so close to each other, I just felt so uneasy, as if a teacher or someone would come by and tell us to part, but I couldn’t let go of her. All of a sudden I didn’t feel like going to school; spending the day with her in my arms was way more appealing. I smiled and said, “Sure.” Then she kissed me on the cheek again, and I knew right then and there, that this was the start of something special.

 

Chapter 8

Nicola

“Come on, pass the ball!” I screamed from the stadium. I had never watched a game before, but watching the Under 18s The Palace football team play against Nottingshore Forest made me feel kind of special, knowing that I knew someone on the team.

“What are we doing here again?” Michelle asked when I sat down. She’d come because I’d told my parents that I was going out to Croydon with her to get some clothes. We’d already thought about what we were going to say when we went back to her house empty-handed. The fact that we were only window shopping, which was nothing new. I’d done that so many times, especially seeing as Dad wasn’t putting as much money as he used to in my account. Whenever I questioned him about it, he simply brushed me off and said that we were going through a recession. Which was true, it was all over the news, but if that was the case then how comes Mum never seemed to have a problem with finances? She bought a new Gucci bag or shoes as if it was a couple of quid.

“I told you, that we’re here to watch Ryan play.” I had told her about ten times, but she didn’t understand how I’d become friendly with someone who went to City Heights; as if going to a Christian school meant that you could only be friends with girls. Sometimes, I worried about how she would cope when she got to uni. Would she only talk to people in her lectures? Would she be scared to venture out and make new friends in case they were different to her?

“Yes, but I still don’t get how you know him?”

“Shit, they’re going to score. I can’t watch.”

I remembered that Ryan said that they had beaten them a few times and that this was the match that they needed to win in order to get into the semi-finals. Ryan worked like crazy at school, in both his jobs and at football just so that he could shine on the pitch. I really wanted his dream to come true today. I knew that it would mean a lot to him, and to me too.

“And when did you start using such foul language?”

She sounded like my mother!
But as the crowd roared, I sat with my eyes closed, the cheers told me that the one goal that we needed to get out of this damn draw had been scored. The question was, who had scored it?

“Who scored?” I asked the guy next to me.

“That boy, what’s his name again, Dad?”

I felt as if he had taken my heart out, because it had stopped beating. Ryan needed to be noticed today; he’d said that the Manchester Club scout was watching and, if he played well, then maybe, just maybe, he had a shot at being signed up.

“Ryan Thompson! Fucking saint!” his dad shouted over to me.

“I knew it.”

“Oh, so your boyfriend scored. What, does that mean he’ll score with you too, later?” Michelle laughed and she could see from the smile on my face that it wasn’t far from the truth. Lately, walking with Ryan every morning and evening had put a new lease on my life. Before, I had thought about boys, wanted to be with one so badly when my parents were having problems.

Sharon was great, but with her constant moaning about her love life, which seemed to change every minute, I’d got tired of her company. There was something about Ryan - what you saw was what you got. Not the pretense that my family loved to show as they pretended to be a couple.

This made me want to get to know him better. Not just mentally, but physically too. We hadn’t even kissed properly, the odd peck here and there, but I wanted more. I wanted him to be my first in everything, because I knew that he would be my last.

Ryan and I were special, there was this connection, not like the boys that I had seen or the ones that I had heard about, all they talked about was sex. This was more than that, but someone like Michelle could never understand that. She often asked what we talked about and when I tried to explain it to her, she always looked as if she was bored and I was talking a load of crap.

“Maybe!” I smiled.

“How is that possible? Are you going to do it in his council flat?”

She said it as if it was a disease. Then, it was announced that The Palace were the winners. They had qualified to play in the semis for the first time in donkey years. I decided that my best friend couldn’t be my friend any more.

“You know what bugs me the most?” I shouted above the cheers of the crowd.

“What?” she said as she took out her mobile and started taking photos of the match. God, she was stupid, we were supposed to be in Croydon shopping and she was taking proof that we were doing the complete opposite.

“That you go to church. You sit in class every day listening to the preaching of the Lord and you learn nothing.”

She folded her arms. “Oh, I never realized that sex before marriage was in one of Pastor Jones’s talks?”

I shook my head, realizing that she had a point about that part, “We’re all equal. Men. Women. Race. Sexuality. Rich and poor.”

She grew angry as she put her hands on her hips and said, “In that case, explain that to your fucking parents when they ask how comes you were not in Croydon shopping, but at a football match!”

I was the stupid one, she had tweeted on purpose just to get me in trouble. I should have gone with my gut feeling and come with Sharon instead. There was a class divide between us and it was just getting bigger. She grabbed her bag and left the stadium. I didn’t even fit into her world, just because in her eyes, my world was far from perfect.

My parents were going to split up and I had a boyfriend who lived on a council estate. Everything that she would never do and had never done up. She was just as superficial as my mum, always thinking about her parents’ bank balance and thinking that she was above everyone else.

Well, she wasn't above me. I had a boyfriend, which was more then she had ever had, and now, she didn’t have a friend either.

Chapter 9

Ryan

I fucking scored!

Shit, I was on a high.

I’d had moments of doubt. Ones that crawl inside of me, like fucking chicken pox. I’d scratch a few times and see nothing, then one day, or maybe two, there’d be rashes everywhere, all over my fucking skin. Uncontrollable and there’s nothing you can do but stay away from people, but by then it is too late. That’s what no self-esteem’s like; I’d started wondering if football was just a fucking illusion. Something that I wanted to do to get out of the rat hole that I was living in.

Being dyslexic was a fucking joke. The teachers had told us that we could do so many things like the great dyslexics such as Jamie Oliver, one of the richest chefs in the world, or even Steve Jobs, but I didn’t see myself as a Steve Jobs, and I couldn’t do fuck all in the kitchen. So, I’d turned to football believing that it was something that I was good at. Something that I could do not just now, but for the future.

I’d spent my whole life listening to Mum telling me that kicking a ball was a waste of time, that I should go down the benefits office and sign on and forget about school, but I didn’t listen. Sure, I’d never be anything like Nicola. I wouldn’t have A Levels when I left school, but I had a handful of GCSEs and hopefully a couple of BTECs in case I needed something to fall back on to.

But it wasn’t who I wanted to be. I never studied for passion, the only passion I had was for football and right there and then, after scoring that goal, I could feel the drive. I was back in the fucking game.

“Ryan, this is Kenny Bentley, he works for Manchester Club,” my coach, Stewart said, as he took me to one side after the game. He was just as desperate as I was to get me noticed. The Academy only took on six players each year, and it was tight. I had been playing for The Palace for two years, but it was clear that I had to move on. The competition was getting fiercer by the minute and especially with only one player being offered a scholarship per year… I needed that person to be me. But after last year I’d kind of decided that if I could get a club. Any club, to take me on as reserve, just so that I could make more money than I was earning now in my two jobs, then I would be happy. I had a feeling that today was going to be that fucking day.

I smiled and shook his hand, but really I wanted to hit the showers. I fucking stunk.

“Well, Ryan, that was a tough game.”

I nodded like the choir boy that I had watched once or twice when I had to go to church with my Nan, “Yes, Mr. Bentley.”

He laughed, “You can just call me Kenny.”

I’ll call you sir if you sign me up, I thought. “Okay, Kenny.”

“Where do you live?”

Now, we were talking. “With my mum.” But I could live anywhere you liked as long as you gave me a chance. That was all I needed, one fucking chance and I wouldn’t disappoint. I couldn’t.

He nodded, “Are you eighteen yet?”

Last fucking week.

“Yes.”

“Good. Good. We need to talk, but I am only in London for the weekend. So maybe later today if you’re free?”

Is the Pope Catholic?

“Sure.”

I was fucking shaking. I was looking at this man, trying to act like an angel, but really all I wanted to do was fucking swear and piss my pants. Shit, it was really happening and sure I had hoped it would happen, but now it was really happening.

“I’ve been watching you, Ryan. You may have seen me a couple of times.”

I had and I knew.

“Really?”

I tilted my head to the side, something that I had learned from an early age. My dad, who was only around whenever he wanted a quick fuck from my Mum, he’d taught me it. He’d said that whenever I had been caught doing something bad, or wanted to act as if I was a good boy, I should tilt my head. I thought that was the only good thing that I had ever learned from the old man.

He smiled; shit I’m such a crap liar. And I knew the head trick never worked. I didn’t know why I’d expected it to.

“Well, maybe around five or so we can meet up. Somewhere near your house.”

Not if you want your car to still be there when we finish. They would knick the wheels, stereo system and the fucking hood in my area.

“Let’s meet in Dulwich. There’s a Starbucks there. We can meet around five if you like?”

Because that’s just before I start my shift. Yep, I’m eighteen and I go to school and have two jobs, but I want to move to Manchester. I want to get away from fucking London and see something other than a fucking coffee cup or stack of fries.

“Brilliant! See you then.”

You’re damn fucking right you will! I kept my composure for all of five minutes, thinking about the fact that I might finally be out of there, and knowing that my girl was out made me feel even better.

We shook hands again and I walked into the changing room, thinking about taking a shower, but then Stewart caught me by surprise. He had been acting like my best friend lately, giving me advice and helping me in more ways than any member of my family. He gave me the biggest hug of my life. I couldn't believe it when the rest of the team cheered for me. It was the first time that they had all treated me as if I was a human being, not as if I was at the bottom of the food chain, and it made me feel good.

***

“I can’t believe it, Nicola,” I said as I held her hand in Maccy D’s (British term for McDonald’s).

“Wow, you’re really going?” she whispered and I knew that she was happy for me. I knew it must be pretty hard when your boyfriend tells you that he’s going away. Especially when you’ve only been sneaking out and seeing each other on the way back and forth from school.

“I just didn’t think it would happen so fast,” she mumbled as she took back her hand and played with her fries.

“It doesn’t mean that it’s happening, I haven’t even spoken to him yet.”

I couldn’t do this, I was trying to reassure her that I wasn’t going to go away, but I couldn’t stay. I needed to leave and make a better future, not only for myself, but my siblings too. I’d thought that she’d understand it, but as she sat quietly looking out at passing traffic and ignoring my stare, I had a suspicion that she didn’t.

“Nicola, listen to me. I need to go and make a better future not only for myself but my brothers and sister too.”

“What about your Mum? They’re her responsibility, not yours. Besides, there’s other clubs in London. Like Arronton, ChelseaWide or Tottenham Pearls.”

She had been doing her homework, up until a week ago she’d known very little about football and now she was reciting the clubs as if it was one of her dissertations.

“Look, I’ve been checking them out and, as you can see, ChelseaWide has a better ranking in the premiership then Manchester - especially since Ferguson left.”

She had a point; since their key manager had left they had been changing like crazy and dropping down the premiership league, but this was an opportunity that I couldn’t afford to miss out on.

“The only difference is the fact that none of those clubs have been watching me. Do you know how many players want to join first division?”

She sighed, “No.”

I went on to explain, “It’s not about which one is out there, it’s about which one is interested and, right now, I don’t have any other offers. No one else is knocking at my door, just this one.”

“What about WBA, they were interested?”

Her eyes were bright and I knew what she was doing; sure they were closer to London, but she was missing the point. It was about the status of the club. Sure, WBA was a mid-table Premier League club, but I wanted to play for the top team, the one that plays in Europe and shit. I had watched the Champions League as a kid and that had always been one of my goals. Even better, getting the chance to play for England. There was a world of opportunity outside of just playing for a team. I had that with Manchester Club, with WBA, I wasn’t so sure.

“They’re offering a package. Not only money, but housing too. I need to use that as leverage so that my brothers and sister can come live with me eventually. I need that more than ever now, because things are getting bad. The social keep sniffing their bloody noses in and it’s just a matter of time until they pull them in and I’ll never really get to see them again. They deserve more than that.”

Shit, she had to understand that. We had only been going out just under a month, she couldn’t make demands on me, especially this dream which didn’t affect just me, but my siblings too.

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