Strikers Instinct (14 page)

Luke sat alone in the canteen until Maud bustled in with a large mug of tea.

“Here you go love,” she fussed, “sorry I had to keep you waiting.”

“No problem,” Luke replied with his boyish grin, “why don't you sit down and keep me company for a bit – you must be exhausted.”

Maud blushed and then sank into the chair opposite Luke. “Well – just for a minute then – they'll be finished with the morning session soon and then it'll be chaos.”

Luke beamed at her. He had learned long ago that in order to fit in anywhere, you had to make friends with the people who really mattered. As far as he was concerned that usually meant people like Maud who worked in the background but ultimately knew all the secrets. He had drank in Embassy canteens all over the world and he knew it was the Maud's of this world who pulled all the strings.

“Anyway,” she smiled, “what did you do to get sent inside so early? You've only been here two minutes – have you been causing trouble already?”

Luke just carried on grinning.

Maud continued. “I'd be very surprised if Mr. Dunbar was unhappy with you – he may be a bit gruff at times but everyone loves him – all the team would run until they dropped if he asked them. Now if it was that Ed Tierney then that would be a different story – he's a wrong un!”

Luke raised his eyebrows questioningly.

“Oh don't worry love,” Maud laughed, “Ed Tierney knows exactly how I feel about him – he never comes down here and if he did decide to fire me – well I don't do this job for the money!”

Luke let Maud continue to talk for a few more minutes, gently prising nuggets of information from her about the various characters around the club until suddenly the door opened.

Nobby staggered inside. Luke was a big admirer – he thought Nobby was a really gifted midfielder but some of his critics said that Nobby was a touch lazy and didn't always give 100%. Today he didn't look capable of giving even a fraction of that amount of effort.

“Nobby love, you don't look well,” Maud sympathised, “sit down and I'll get you a brew.”

“Thanks Maud.” groaned Nobby. “Must be something I ate – coach sent me in till I feel better.”

“That's strange,” said Maud seriously, “if I remember rightly, the exact same thing happened at the beginning of training last year?” She winked at Luke.

Nobby appeared not to hear her and slumped down next to Luke. For a few seconds he didn't speak and then he finally opened his mouth.

“That's a relief.” he muttered.

“What is?” asked Luke.

“I thought I was going to puke again.” moaned Nobby.

“Again?” said Luke.

“Yeh,” said Nobby, “I've already thrown up on the skipper's boots.”

Luke had to choke back a laugh.

“I'm just glad that you were here.” Nobby muttered.

“What do mean?” Luke asked.

“Well I don't know what happened with the group you were training with but the Gaffer is going ballistic.” said Nobby. “Nobody seemed bothered about me so I just sloped off. What happened?”

Luke just shrugged. He knew exactly what had happened but he decided to play dumb for a little bit longer. He had realised after only a few minutes that the group he had been placed in were out to teach him a lesson. He let them get away with it during the short sprints they started off with – in fact he couldn't do much about that even if he had wanted to! But after that he started to up the pace a little.

When they moved on to star jumps, sit ups and press ups, Luke began to joke with the rest of the group.

“Is that all we are doing? You don't need to hold back because you are training with an old man!” he insisted.

The players glanced at each other and decided to move up a gear and really teach Luke a lesson but after a few minutes they started to get worried. They were into their third set of 100 sit-ups and Luke wasn't even sweating. Dave Kingston tried to get them all back on to their feet but Luke continued to goad them.

“No wonder we didn't win many matches last year if that's the best you can do!” he joked.

That drew another angry response from the players and they threw themselves into another set of reps. After a few minutes Dave could see that they were all struggling – apart from Luke – who still seemed fresh as a daisy. He forced them to stop and dragged them all to their feet – he decided to try another approach.

“OK,” he said, “looks like some of you are still a bit rusty after the summer – let's try some laps to run it off.”

The players smiled to each other – Luke was obviously fitter than they had been led to believe but he was an old man – they would run the legs off him and leave him begging them to stop.

Dave started them off, ordering them to keep together and to run at an easy pace. Luke smiled to himself – this was exactly what he wanted – at that pace he knew he could run all day. After a few laps the players began to glance around uneasily – Luke seemed to be going far too well for a pensioner. A couple more laps and some of the players were starting to struggle and Dave began to worry – he decided to call a halt – his plan hadn't worked.

“OK guys,” he shouted, “well done, take a five minute break.”

“Five minute break?” laughed Luke, “I'm just getting warmed up.” and he continued to jog easily around the field. The other players were furious and they had no choice but to carry on with Luke or risk losing face. After two more laps they were starting to admit defeat and one by one they began to drop out. Luke waited a while longer before he realised that he was running alone. He turned to find the group lying on the grass all across the park and trotted up to Dave who didn't seem to know what to do.

“What's next?” enquired Luke innocently.

“Err, I think you'd better have a brew whilst I talk to the gaffer.” said Dave nervously.

“OK.” agreed Luke with a grin.

So now he was sitting alongside Nobby, wondering what would happen next – and he didn't have long to wait. The door opened again and Sandy walked in followed by the players and other assorted staff. Sandy approached Luke and barked at Nobby.

“What's up with you?”

“Gastric.” Nobby moaned.

“I'll give you gastric you lazy little sod!” exploded Sandy, then he took a deep breath and tried to calm down. He turned to Luke.

“Mr. Linden, “he said with a forced smile, “you seem to be something of a surprise package. Is there something that maybe you want to share with us?

Luke smiled and shook his head. That wasn't the answer that Sandy wanted and he struggled to contain his anger.

“Perhaps you could humour me and tell us all a little bit more about yourself?” Sandy was practically begging. “That may help us to understand how we can help you fit in?”

For a few moments Luke seemed to be considering his options then he reluctantly stood and walked to the end of the room to face everyone.

“I told you a few hours ago that I would do my best to keep a low profile and keep out of your way and that's exactly what I'll do. And I also said that I would do anything I could to help – perhaps I should have elaborated.”

Some of the younger players looked puzzled.

“He means explained in greater detail.” said Andy Tiler in disgust at their ignorance.

Luke smiled and continued. “I did a lot of work during the last twenty years or so for the government which meant I had to travel around the world a lot so wherever I worked I took advantage of the fitness facilities and the people who worked there.”

“What exactly does that mean?” asked Sandy.

“Well,” Luke said slowly, “most of the people I used to train with were SAS or other Special Services so I had to work hard to keep up.”

Everyone in the room glanced around nervously.

“Bloody hell,” said Nobby, “are you some kind of trained assassin?”

“No, no,” laughed Luke, “I've just always kept myself pretty fit and I've picked up a few tricks along the way. I'm sorry if you thought you were going to have some fun with a decrepit old man.”

The players seemed to relax and one or two even laughed. Some just blushed and tried to slide down into their seats.

“Mind you,” Luke added, “I do know several ways to kill without leaving a mark.”

“OK,” shouted Sandy, “I think that's enough for now, I think it's time that Mr. Linden and I had a little private chat.”

The players seemed to shrink away from Luke as he followed Sandy out of the building. A few minutes later they were sat in the manager's spartan office. Sandy didn't seem to know where to begin.

“I really don't need this you know.” he said finally. “It's a hard enough job as it is without being saddled with some kind of keep-fit fanatic.”

Luke laughed. “Look Mr. Dunbar, nothing has changed since I arrived this morning. I really am a life-long Wishton fan who is thrilled to be here. That last bit about killing people was just a joke! I promise that I won't get in the way but if all this bothers you so much then I will just walk away.”

Sandy considered this for a minute then shook his head. “No, we can't do that, it would raise too many questions. I just need to know that I can trust you and you have the club's best interest at heart.”

“I can assure you that I want only what is best for the club.” replied Luke. “And what's more – no one will hear a word from me about the fact that I am fitter than most of the first team squad.”

Sandy stared at Luke for a moment and then they both burst out laughing.

“I really had thought that I had seen it all but I should have known better.” Sandy said ruefully. “Well Mr. Linden, looks like I don't have much choice – welcome to the club.” He stood and offered his hand.

Luke accepted and they shook hands. “Please call me Luke.” he asked

“You can call me Gaffer for the time being,” said Sandy gruffly, “but be aware that I will be watching you very, very closely.”

Luke walked back to the canteen and joined the players who were eating lunch. Some of them seemed a bit more friendly but Andy Tiler and some of the others still seemed very wary. Lunch was a buffet affair consisting of pasta and salads and once everyone was finished they went into a large recreation room next door to relax for a short time to allow their food to settle before they began the next training session. Some of the lads started playing pool or table tennis, others just sat around looking at their mobiles or watching sport on the large TV in the corner.

Before he could decide what to do next someone called Luke's name. He turned to see Ed's PA standing in the doorway. A few of the players called out good-naturedly to Sarah but a quick shout from Andy quickly calmed them down. Sarah blushed but she waved back at most of the players. Luke walked across to see what she wanted.

“Hi Luke,” Sarah began, “sorry to drag you away but there are a few more things that you need to look at before you carry on playing with the boys.”

Sarah's eyes twinkled mischievously – Luke wondered if she had heard about what had happened this morning.

“OK,” he replied, “I'm all yours!”

Sarah led the way back to the small admin block which contained Sandy's office. Luke followed her into another small, poky office and they sat at opposite sides of a small desk. Sarah wrinkled her nose.

“I'm sorry about these offices,” she said, “Mr. Tierney doesn't believe in wasting money.”

Luke nodded but at least the rest of the site wasn't as bad. It looked as if Ed had been forced to spend some money on the gym and the pitches – even the canteen and recreation room were comfortable if not luxurious.

“OK,” she continued, “I have some paperwork to go through with you and then I need you to meet someone – shouldn't take long and then you can go back to play.” she finished with an impish grin.

“First of all I have the details of your club Facebook and Twitter account – the username and passwords.”

“I won't be needing those.” Luke said firmly.

Sarah seemed confused. “But when you agreed to be part of the squad you agreed to sign up to all this – is it a problem?”

Luke paused for a minute before speaking. “I don't know how much you know about me Sarah but all my working life has been spent in the IT industry.”

Sarah nodded her head.

He continued. “During the last twenty years I have witnessed some great advancements in technology but in my humble opinion Facebook and Twitter don't rank very highly.”

Sarah looked doubtful – she used both Twitter and Facebook almost constantly.

Luke laughed, “Don't get me wrong – I'm not some prehistoric fossil who doesn't understand technology – I have so many computer-related qualifications I probably can't remember them all – but I just think some applications – including those two – are dangerous. It's purely my opinion but I don't put any information whatsoever about myself or my family out into cyberspace.”

“OK,” said Sarah doubtfully, “But what do I tell Mr. Tierney – he's very keen on this kind of thing?”

“Don't tell him anything.” replied Luke. “If he asks just tell him that you passed on all the details as you were asked to and I accepted them.”

Sarah nodded in agreement and then reluctantly passed across a couple of pieces of paper.

“That's your Twitter username and password and those are the same details for Facebook.”

Luke opened the paper and inwardly groaned. How could people be so stupid?

“Is something wrong?” asked Sarah anxiously.

“No it's OK.” muttered Luke. He pulled out his mobile phone and unlocked the screen. Sarah's eyes widened.

“Wow,” she said, “that's quite an impressive phone – I've never seen one like that before.”

Luke smiled. “It's a prototype – I'm testing it for someone.” he said.

Sarah was smart enough not to comment when she noticed that in addition to entering what seemed like a very complex password, Luke also used his thumbprint to access the device. Once the screen came up Luke moved slightly so that Sarah couldn't see what he was doing. Luke took another look at the piece of paper and sighed again. The password for both applications was “Clough46”. He was fairly sure that the other players would have a similar password – the club name and their squad number. He logged into both Twitter and Facebook and changed the passwords to something more complex. He then logged out and shut down the phone.

“OK,” he said, “now you can honestly report back to Ed and tell him you watched me log into both of my accounts.”

Sarah smiled her appreciation. “Thanks Luke. Now to the next piece of business. Do you remember that a part of the package was to write a column every week for the local paper?”

Luke nodded.

“Great,” she continued, “well in a few minutes I'm going to introduce you to the reporter you will be working with.”

Luke seemed a bit surprised. “I didn't know that I would be working with anyone – but I can't see that being a problem.”

“Good, I just need to remind you about a few ground rules.”

Luke appeared a bit more uncomfortable. “Ground rules?” he grunted.

Sarah squirmed a little. “Well we have to draw a fine line between keeping the fans up to date with what is going on at the club but without revealing too many secrets……”

Luke nodded “I've already been warned to be careful about what I write.”

“Don't worry,” Sarah reassured him, “We don't have many secrets we just want you to be – what's the word? – discreet!”

Luke laughed, “My wife says that I can be very discreet when it suits me!”

Sarah laughed with him. “Sounds like we are on the same page – now we have sorted that out I'll go and find Sam.”

After a few seconds Sarah returned with a large man who was probably in his forties but looked much older. Sarah introduced him as Sam Barker and then she left them for a short while to get to know each other.

Sam wore a suit that had obviously seen better days but he was a cheerful, if untidy, man. Luke couldn't help but smile at his enthusiasm and for a few minutes they chatted about nothing in particular and then they started to work out how they would produce the column each week.

Finally Sam turned to Luke. “You know,” he said, “I don't think that you will really need me – you seem more than capable of putting a few words together. Don't know why I am here really but the editor insisted – and I am a big Wishton fan so it's always a pleasure to be involved.”

Luke smiled, “I'm sure I won't be able to do this without you,” he replied, “after what Sarah has told me I'm going to need all the guidance I can get.”

“Ahh.” Sam murmured. “You've just had the “censorship” speech have you? I suppose that means that you won't be able to talk about what happened on the training ground this morning?”

Luke kept a straight face but suddenly became slightly cautious. “I don't know what you mean.”

Sam laughed. “Wow, you should be a politician – you never even blinked when you lied! Don't worry, I know all about your “exhibition” this morning but I also know that sadly I can't use it – I have to follow the rules.”

Luke grinned sheepishly – he decided that he and Sam were going to get on just fine.

“Don't worry Luke,” Sam said, “I enjoy writing about Wishton Clough – it helps me forget about all the bad news out there.”

He gave Luke a card. “We can talk on the phone or meet in person but if you need me at anytime – those are my contact details.”

Luke was just about to thank Sam when a phone started to ring.

“Sorry Luke,” said Sam, “that's mine – I should have turned it off.”

Luke insisted that it wasn't a problem and urged Sam to answer his phone. Sam smiled his thanks and took the call. Luke noticed that Sam's eyes suddenly widened and he darted a quick glance towards Luke.

“Are you 100% sure?” he barked down the phone. “OK – thanks for the call.”

Sam stared at Luke for a few seconds. “Have you spoken to Ed Tierney or Sandy Dunbar today?” he asked.

“Yes,” Luke replied. “I've had conversations with both of them. Why?”

Sam paused for a second, “I just wonder if either of them said anything to you about signing Jake Pryce?”

For once Luke was visibly shocked. “No way!” he finally spoke. “He wouldn't come here even if we wanted him – which we definitely don't.”

“Well I've just heard from a very good source that Jake Pryce has just signed on a season long loan from Italy. Maybe we should try to find out if it is true or not?”

Sam moved remarkably quickly for a large man and Luke hurried behind him. They headed towards the canteen which seemed to be empty apart from Maud who was in the final stages of mopping the floor.

“Don't walk on my mopping!” she shouted. “What do you want?”

“Hi Maud,” said Sam, “have you seen Sandy?”

“I saw him earlier,” she replied evasively, “but he seems to be very popular at the moment.”

“Why's that?” asked Luke.

“There's been a stream of people in here looking for him in the last few minutes.” she replied. “It's made a right mess of my floor! What's going on?”

“We've just been told that Wishton have signed Jake Pryce and I just wanted to ask Sandy if it was true.” Sam explained.

“Who's Jake Pryce?” asked Maud. “All these footballers look the same to me.”

Sam and Luke stared at each other. “Do you want to tell her or should I?” asked Sam.

“Be my guest.” said Luke grimly.

“Jake Pryce is the original football bad boy,” said Sam, “he has played for most of the top clubs in England and Europe and has made and wasted a fortune on booze, betting and birds!”

“He sounds like Georgie Best.” smiled Maud.

Sam's smile faded. “Not at all.” he said seriously. “By all accounts Jake Pryce is a right evil sod – no decent club would touch him anymore.”

Maud looked just as serious.”Well that explains it then.” she said.

The two men waited for to her to continue.

“That's probably why Sandy Dunbar drove away like a bat out of hell about 10 minutes ago!”