‘Hello, Mum. It’s me … Mark.’

‘Mark, you shouldn’t be ringing me, you know that your dad will get angry,’ whispered mum, sounding a bit frightened.

‘Why are you whispering?’

‘Your dad’s sleeping, he might wake up and hear me.’

Football Girl

By Susan Brown

Chapter 2

Previously...

Twenty minutes later, I had removed my makeup, did the usual bedtime things and was in bed wearing my favourite long pink silky nightie. It had been a long day and I was tired as much because of the emotion of all the things that had happened rather than anything else. The day had started horribly yet ended so much better. I wondered how mum was and whether I ought to contact her tomorrow. I also didn’t know what to do about going for a trial with Melchester United. I desperately wanted to go, but knowing the fact that my parents would have to be involved meant that there were probably going to be problems over all of this.

And now, the story continues...

1

‘Hello, Mum. It’s me … Mark.’

‘Mark, you shouldn’t be ringing me, you know that your dad will get angry,’ whispered mum, sounding a bit frightened.

‘Why are you whispering?’

‘Your dad’s sleeping, he might wake up and hear me.’

‘Don’t you want to know where I am?’

Silence.

‘Mum, are you still there?’

‘Look Mark, you had better not tell me where you are. Your dad might get to know and he’s blaming you for losing his job.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘He came home late last night. He’d had a few drinks. Evidently he was stopped by the police and breathalysed. He had nearly twice the legal limit for alcohol in his blood. It meant instant dismissal.’

‘Why is it my fault?’ I exclaimed.

‘He said that he was so upset catching you dressed as a girl again, he lost his head and drank too much.’

‘That’s crap!’

‘Don’t talk like that!’

‘Why shouldn’t I? He is a drunk and he hits us and he blames everyone else for what he does…’

‘Mark, don’t say that. He’s had a hard life and been knocked back a lot.’

‘So have we … by him!’

‘Please, Mark, understand…’

‘I don’t understand him at all and I don’t understand why you stay with him.’

‘I … I can’t explain. I know he has done some bad things, but if you had known him before everything went wrong … look, I can hear him wake up next door. Don’t ring here again. I’ll ring you soon on your mobile. I’ve got your number … I have to go…’

‘But mum I have to tell you about the football … mum, are you there?’

I put the phone down and slipped back under the covers, frustrated and upset at my father and his treatment of me and mum.

I had woken up that morning, not quite knowing where I was. Then I felt the lovely soft nightie on my skin as I turned over in the warm bed. Opening my eyes, I could see my cheerful new room and everything that had happened flooded back at me. The nice things like my new home and the football trial and then the nasty things where my father had hit me and made me leave my home.

I had immediately thought of my mum and picked up my mobile to call her. To say the conversation that we had was upsetting, would be a bit of an understatement. She was scared stiff of him and I knew that there was no way that she could help me go to the football trial on Monday.

I really didn’t know what to do; it was Sunday and the trial was tomorrow. I had a sneaky feeling that I wasn’t going to be able to go and that really upset me because I had always dreamed of playing football with good players…if only once in a trial game. I knew that I wasn’t good enough of course, but it would be nice to say to others that I had actually had a trial with Melchester United!

I looked at my watch; it was 10.00am and time I was up. I could hear noises coming from the café downstairs; Jeff must have opened up by now. I decided to go downstairs after getting dressed. I could have a cooked breakfast and perhaps if he wasn’t too busy, tell him about my problem. Perhaps he might think of something.

I got up and went into the bathroom, reluctantly taking off my silky nightie as I went. I had a quick shower, making sure to keep my hair dry using a shower cap. Once I was dry, I went back into the bedroom and put on some nice white lacy panties. Over those I pulled up some track pants and a grey sweat shirt. Finally, I pulled my hair into a low ponytail and put on my trainers.

I quickly made the bed and reminded myself to vacuum the floor when I got back. I wanted the place to stay nice, after all!

2

I went downstairs and let myself into the café using the internal door. Coming out of the kitchen area, I saw Jeff serving someone eggs and bacon, the sight and smell made my mouth water a bit.

‘Hi, Jeff.’

He looked around and smiled.

‘Hi, yourself. Did you manage all right last night?’

‘Yes, it was great. Thanks again for letting me stay there.’

‘No problem.’

‘Can I get myself some breakfast–I’ll pay for it.’

‘You won’t, you do enough around here to warrant a few free meals. What would you like?’

‘Eggs, bacon and a slice of fried bread, please. Are you sure you don’t want me to pay?’

‘I won’t hear of it and anyway, my ears are red from Josie not making you come home for tea last night. Charging you for food here would make her go over the edge! Go and sit down, it won’t be a minute.’

I walked over to a table by the window. It was quiet at the moment with only a few people in. It would get busier later when the football crowd came in for their post match fry ups. That was the beauty of having a café so near the playing fields; it had a ready customer base.

In a few minutes I was tucking into breakfast and washing it down with some hot sweet tea. After finishing, I could see that the place was empty apart from Jeff and myself. I got up and took my crockery and stuff over to the counter.

‘Jeff, can you spare a minute?’

He stopped loading plates into the dish washer and turned round.

‘Sure,’ he said, wiping his hand on a towel, ’what’s up?’

‘After the game yesterday,’ I said as we sat at a table with cups of tea in front of us, ‘a man came up and said that he thought that I was very good.’

‘Well, so you are.’

‘I don’t know about that…’

‘Don’t keep putting yourself down, you are head and shoulders better than anyone else playing there.’

‘Well,’ I said, feeling my face go red with embarrassment. ‘Anyway, he said that he had watched me a lot and would like me to go for a trial with Melchester.’

‘Wow, what an opportunity!’

‘Yes…I thought that, well at least I did until I had a talk with mum this morning.’

I told him about the conversation I had with her.

‘I don’t think that mum will help me, what with her being so scared of dad and the fact that he wouldn’t help me if I was on fire. The man said that I needed permission from my parents to go to the trial, so it looks like I won’t be able to go.’

‘What was the man’s name?’

I fished the card he gave me out of my pocket and passed it to Jeff.

Looking closely at it, he whistled. ‘Blimey, Harry Collins is head scout for Melchester United, he used to play for the team about twenty years ago, good player too. He brought Dave Winston to the club.’

My eyes widened. Dave Winston, the darling of Melchester, player of the year last year and top scorer in the league. Mind you he’d been injured this season and the team had suffered a bit because of it.

‘So, you think it’s genuine?’

‘Looks like it. I tell you what let me have a think about it and I’ll get back to you. Are you playing today?’

‘No, I need to sort out things upstairs.’

‘Okay, I’ll speak to Josie and we’ll think of something, don’t worry. I’ll ring up to the flat once I've had a word with her. It won’t be until I close, after 3.00pm though.’

‘Okay, thanks Jeff, you’re a star.’

3

I went upstairs to the flat and sat on the sofa. Jeff and Josie were a lovely couple and their twin daughters were seriously cute. I had been baby-sitter for them many times and loved their easy relaxed lifestyle. I only wished that my home life had been as good.

Remembering the promise I made to myself about cleaning the place up, I got out the hoover and vacuumed the floor, then I did a bit of tidying up and after about half an hour the place looked nice again. Glancing out of the window, I saw a game being played across the road on the nearest pitch. It was an under eleven game and the boys were playing at a frantic pace. I could see quite a few people on the touchline shouting and making gestures. ‘Probably parents,’ I thought, remembering the amount of times my father stood at the pitch side, precisely zero.

I needed cheering up, so I changed into some girlie clothes. From my extensive (not) wardrobe I chose a knee length jeans skirt, padded bra and a white strappy top. I put on a bit of lippy, but left off putting any more makeup on because I might have to clean up and change in a hurry if Jeff wanted to see me this afternoon.

I picked up my laptop and went and sat at on the sofa. Firing up my little friend, I was soon surfing the net and looking at some of the stuff on eBay. I looked at some shoes, boots and sandals. The problem was that I really needed to try these on before I bought anything. Getting up and gazing at myself in the mirror, I looked at my reflection critically. Would I pass? As far as I could see, I just looked like an ordinary young girl, nothing special, but okay. If I slapped on a bit more makeup, would I get clocked if I went to the shops dressed as a girl?

Mind you, I still had a problem, how could I go dressed as a girl when I had no shoes to go out in? I made a decision. I would buy one pair of shoes on line; I went to the Dolcis website because they had a quick delivery service. I chose a pair of South Black Leather Pointy Shoes with a cross over effect to the front in size 7. I paid for them using my debit card and the delivery would be on Tuesday, so I had to make sure I was in. Once I got the shoes, as long as they didn’t cripple me, I would go to the shops and get some more, as Susan; clever girl, aren’t I?

I felt a bit better after that small bit of retail therapy. I made myself a sandwich for lunch and sat down to watch a teen flic on the TV. It was; Can't Hardly Wait with Ethan Embry and Lauren Ambrose. It was okay and I enjoyed it a lot, though the plot was a bit thin.

After that, I listened to several tracks on my ipod and then got a coke out of the fridge. As I was drinking it, the internal phone rang, looking at the clock, I could see that it was 3.30.

‘Hello?’ I said picking up the phone.

‘Hi Mark, can you come down and we can talk about your little problem.’

‘Erm…okay can you give me ten minutes?’

‘Okay, see you in a bit.’

‘He sounded serious,’ I thought as I washed my face and changed into my boy stuff.

4

I was soon downstairs in the café. It was closed now and I smiled as walked through the kitchen and out to the front because I could see that as well as Jeff, Josie was there with the twins asleep in their buggy .

‘Hello Josie.’

‘Mark, come here love!’

She opened her arms and I walked straight into them. For some reason I was a bit tearful. Perhaps all that had happened had come to the surface. Anyway, after a good cry, I pulled myself together and put Josie down.

‘Well Mark, I’m sorry you had a bust up with your parents,’ said Josie with concern on her face.

I didn’t say anything, just looking down at my feet.

She gently put her hand on my chin and lifted my face so that I was looking at her.

‘Don’t you dare go blaming yourself, I know you. It’s all your fault, according to your warped sense of values, even though you know that your dad caused all this mess.’

‘Josie, leave the boy alone. He can’t help the way he is.’

‘I know; sorry Mark, got a bit carried away there, but you know what I mean. I know that he’s your father, but I think that they should lock him up and throw away the key. Now let’s sit down and discuss what we are going to do.’

I liked the sound of that ‘we’, and as we sat around the table, Jeff and Josie with cups of tea and me with some ginger beer, I told Josie all that had happened in case Jeff hadn’t told her everything. Once I finished, I could see Jeff and Josie looking at each other and giving each other nods and winks.

‘What’s up?’ I said, puzzled at their expressions.

‘You say,’ said Jeff to Josie.

‘Look Mark. When Jeff told me about your problems I rang your mum. She was scared to talk to me at first, but we agreed to meet up at the tea shop on Coronation Street. Anyway to cut a long story short, she told me that she couldn’t help you because she was afraid of what your dad would do if he found out what was going on. I pleaded with her to leave your dad, but she won’t. She still loves him, God knows why and she was also worried that as he blames you for stupidly losing his job, any contact would be violent to say the least. Anyway, as you are now sort of apart from your parents, we agreed that Jeff and I would sort of look out for you.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, we could be your sort of unofficial foster parents, if you want us, that is.’

I choked up and couldn’t speak for a few minutes. I may be nearly sixteen, but I was always a bit emotional, it must be my feminine side coming out.

‘Say something,’ said Jeff,’ if only to tell us to get lost.’

‘Thanks,’ I whispered. I nearly told them then - my big secret, but I chickened out of course, frightened at being rejected so soon after their wonderful offer.

‘Right,’ said a smiling Jeff, ‘that’s settled then, have you got that card from Harry Collins?’

I pulled out the card and handed it to Jeff.

He picked up his mobile and rang the number.

‘Hello, is that Harry Collins? Hello, my name is Jeff Tyler; you gave my foster son Mark, a card for us to contact you to give our permission to go to a trial….’

I listened to the conversation, it was mainly one sided, with Mr. Collins saying the most. Anyway after about five minutes Jeff said goodbye and put his phone down on the table.

‘Right, you have to be at Melchester’s training ground at 10.00 am tomorrow. I’ll give you a lift and wait until you’ve finished. It’s lucky that it’s tomorrow as I don’t open the café up Mondays. Is that all right with you?’

I nodded, as I had lost the power of speech somehow.

‘Okay,’ said the ever practical Josie getting up and going over to the twins. ‘early night for you but first you can come to ours for tea…’

5

A couple of hours later, I was back at the café, after having some wonderful home cooked fish and chips, waving Jeff goodbye as he went back home. I forgot how many times I thanked them for being there for me. In the end Jeff hit me around the head with his newspaper, swearing that if I said thank you again, he’d use a hammer next time. That started Josie having a go at Jeff for his stupid use of words, me being a sort of battered child and me laughing out loud at them both. I suppose that I loved this family almost as much as my mum, and it was so nice that they had taken me in like this.

As I slipped on my nightie and went to bed, I had a sort of tummy flip when I realized that by this time tomorrow, I would have had my trial with Melchester United and I would know whether I was any good or not. I went to sleep dreaming that I had scored a wonder goal to win the league title wearing a little black dress and diamond studded boots.

6

The next morning I woke up to the sound of my mobile going off on the bedside table. I picked it up, dropped it on the floor and then groped around until I managed to grab it again.

‘Mmm?’ I said, nearly breaking my jaw with a massive yawn.

‘This is your wakeup call, get your lazy bones out of that bed and get ready, you have forty minutes before I pick you up.’

‘Jeff, is that you?’

‘No, the tooth fairy, now wake yourself up or you’ll miss your big day.’

‘Okay … erm thanks for ringing.’

‘No problem, now shake a leg!’

He put the phone down before I could say anything else. I yawned again and then my eyes snapped open … this was the day!

All sleep left me as I jumped out of bed, took my nightie off, had a wee and then jumped in the shower, thankfully in that order. I was clean, dry, dressed, ready and waiting impatiently at the window thirty minutes later as I watched out for Jeff’s car. As soon as I saw him turn into the road, I rushed out of the flat after grabbing my gear and locking the door. By the time he had pulled up outside, I was opening the passenger door and jumping in.

‘Hi Jeff.’

‘You okay?’ he asked pulling away from the curb and doing a u turn in the road.

‘Fine.’ I said not feeling particularly fine as the butterflies started partying in my tummy.

‘You’ll be okay.’

‘I hope so…’

After about forty minutes, we arrived at the private training ground of Melchester United.

7

I had once seen a documentary about Melchester United and it included stuff about their training ground. It covered thirty acres, was completely fenced in with trees as well, to keep out prying eyes.

The site had several training pitches and one that was premiership standard. It also had a full size indoor pitch too, which looked pretty neat to me. In addition to this, the changing rooms had plunge baths, individual shower cubicles, physio equipment including couches and even vending machines. There was a treatment room that wouldn’t look out of place in a hospital, a large canteen, training rooms where tactics could be discussed and videos shown…all in all, it was an impressive place, but it was even more impressive to see it in person.

As we drove up to the gates, they opened automatically and a man in a security uniform came out to greet us.

‘Can I help you?’

Jeff showed the scouts card and said, ‘We are expected for the trial’

‘Name please?’

‘Mark Hurst’

He looked down a list on his board and nodded. ‘Right drive over to the car park and leave your car there. Then go to reception and they will help you there.’

‘Thanks,’ said Jeff as we drove on.

There were quite a few cars in the car park and it left me wondering how many people were going to be at the trial today.

We got out of the car and walked over to reception…a modern one story building attached to the main building.

8

The automatic doors whooshed open and we walked through. It was a bit like a hotel reception area, lots of polished wood, plush carpets, a huge television screen was on one wall and playing Melchester’s FA Cup win of the previous season, with the sound turned down.

Behind a long polished wood counter, were two ladies, both wearing Melchester track suits. One looked up and smiled.

‘How can I help you?’

‘Hello love, Mark Hurst, he has a trial today.’

She looked at me and smiled, ‘Hello, Mark, nice to meet you. Can you go through those swing doors on the right and go to the end door. Just go in and wait there.’

‘Thanks.’ I mumbled, rather shyly.

‘You’re welcome, Mark, and good luck!’

‘Thanks.’

We went where we were directed and as I opened the door I could see that it was a training room. There were several other people in there, parents and kids, all hovering around waiting, I supposed, for someone to tell them what to do. Most of them were much younger than me, thirteen at the most and this concerned me somewhat. I wasn’t that tall and would pass for thirteen; perhaps the scout thought that I was younger than I was.

‘This could get very embarrassing,’ I thought.

We sat over in the corner and waited for something to happen. Several other people came into the room and it was beginning.

Eventually, a man in a Melchester track suit came in with a clip board came in and called for silence.

‘Right, thanks for coming. When I call out your name, can you go through that door to my left and someone’ll be there to show you where to go. Right, Phillips … Johnson … Smith…’

The room started to empty quite quickly, I was waiting for my name to be called but it wasn’t. My heart started to sink as I began to realise that something wasn’t quite right. Soon it was just me, Jeff and the man left. He looked up and smiled.

Coming over he shook my hand and Jeff’s.

‘Sorry about that, I had to sort out the kids first. I take it that you’re Mark Hurst?’

I nodded.

‘Right, would you both like to come with me?’

We followed him out of the room and down several corridors. Eventually, we came to a door marked conference room and we were ushered in.

Sitting at a long table was Harry Collins, the scout and another man.

They both got up and smiled.

‘Hello,’ said Harry, ‘you found us okay then? You must be Jeff … nice to meet you. This is Mike Thomas, the reserve team coach…’

‘Hello, Mark … Jeff, nice to see you.’

He was quite young. I knew him of course; he was a player with Melchester up until a few years ago when he had to retire through injury.

‘Take a seat,’ said Harry, indicating some chairs to the side of the table.

We sat down and Harry spoke first.

Right Mark, I have spoken to Mike here about you and he’s aware how good I think you are. He wants to see you in action and there is a reserve practice match that he wants you to take part in today so he can have a look at your playing. Is that okay?’

I just nodded.

‘Right, do you want to say anything, Mike?’

‘Yes, thanks, Harry. Now Mark, we rely a lot on Harry’s judgement, and if he says you’re good, then that is a fact. Mind you, you could be another Dave Winston but if you don’t fit in or play well with the other players, you are as much use as a spare part, so we’ll get a good look at you when you play. All I ask is that you put your heart and soul into it. Can you do that?’

‘Yes, I’ll do my best.’

‘Good lad. Now, while your Dad here goes and finds a nice place to watch, I’ll take you to the changing rooms. You have about ten minutes to change. The other lads are out at the moment doing a bit of circuit training in the gym. We’ll meet them on the pitch … okay?’

I looked at Jeff who went a bit red as he was being called ‘dad’ and smiled a bit. I followed Mr Thomas out of the room after picking up my bag.

9

We went down a couple of corridors and into the changing room that I recognised from the video. Funny, it looked a bit smaller than I imagined, but it was still quite big. The room was empty and Mr Thomas pointed over to the corner where there was a locker a couple of hooks and a football kit folded on the bench.

‘Right, you’re playing for the Blues, today. Get dressed as quickly as you can and then come out to the pitch. You turn left outside the door and go to the end, you’ll see me there.’

With a smile, he walked out leaving me to change.

I didn’t have much time so I took off my track suit bottoms and nearly had a heart attack as I realised that without thinking I had put on some silky panties this morning! I quickly took them off, my face felt hot and I bet looked redder than Melchester’s shirts! Quickly stuffing the panties down to the bottom of my bag I blessed the fact that I had brought a spare pair of boys’ pants.

I pulled up the briefs and then put on the shorts, followed by the shirt, stockings, then my shin pads and boots. Amazed that they got my sizes right, I was finally ready. I tightened my hair band and then I was ready for action…well not really ready as the butterflies in my tummy were now doing summersaults and a war-dance but I was as ready as I ever would be.

I went out into the corridor and turned right, going several steps down the corridor until I remembered that the coach had said left. Feeling a bit of an idiot and pleased that no one was about, I turned around and made my way out of the building. I opened the door at the end of the corridor; there was a short flight of stairs and then I was at the side of the pitch.

‘Found it okay then … good. The lads are over the other side, finishing off some exercises. You need to warm up quick, so run up and down the lines after giving yourself a good stretch, okay?’

‘Yes, Mr Thomas.’

I did my warm up exercises and then ran up and down the touch line until I was thoroughly warmed up. As I was going, I gave Jeff and Harry a small wave. They were sitting on some seats slightly away from the pitch on a platform used, I think, because it had a good view of the pitch.

As I finished my warm up, other players–about twenty-five of them I would guess–came over and stood around, they were either wearing a blue or a red kit. To say I was shy, scared and intimidated would be an understatement. Nobody seemed intimidated by me, and in fact, I saw puzzled looks on some of the faces … probably thinking who the hell was this child, come to play a man’s game?
,
I jumped slightly as the Coach blew his whistle.

‘Right lads, this is Mark Hurst, he’s come to play in the practice match today. I don’t want any dirty fouls or tricks played on him … or else … get my meaning?’

There were some smiles and nods to me and I felt a bit more at ease, except I saw the expression on one of the red team players. He was built like an ox, and he just scowled at me. What had I done wrong?

We went out on the pitch and Mr Thomas was evidently going to referee the game. I had a few back slaps and welcomes from my team, which was nice.

The captain of the Blues, Pete Odinga–I recognised him from his occasional first team appearances–came over, his black face breaking into an incredibly white toothy smile as he said, ‘Hello, enjoy the game, where do you normally play?’

‘Right side attacking mid-fielder.’

‘Okay, we’d better get going then.’

I went over to the right side of the pitch and waited for kick off.

Soon the whistle blew and I knew from the outset that this was not park football that I was playing.

After ten minutes I had only touched the ball twice and both times the ball went to the opposition. I was blowing hard, much harder than my teammates who showed how fit they all were. I was feeling down and just wanted to go away and hide.

Our side were two nil down and the play was definitely going against us. I was passed the ball by the goalie and I went up field with it. I only got about ten yards when I was tackled from behind and I landed heavily. My team mates protested and started to push and shove a few of the Reds. I could hear comments like ‘bloody kid playing with men and what a Nancy,’ coming from some of the Reds. I looked up and saw that it was Ox Man that had brought me down. He had a sneer on his face, he obviously enjoyed doing it.

We were about thirty yards from the goal and a free kick had been awarded. I had a strange feeling come over me. I wasn’t going to be humiliated like this. I may not be star material, but I wasn’t going to sink without trying my damndest.

‘Pete Odinga was holding the ball and placing it for the kick. I went over to him.

‘Can I take it?’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes.’

He shrugged his shoulders, ‘Okay, it’s all yours.’

There were four of our players in the penalty area and several red shirts. Three reds were in a wall in front of me, holding their crown jewels. One of them was the sneering Ox. I wanted to wipe that smile off his face. Now I could have hit him in the chest or face with the ball, but we needed to score some goals.

The whistle blew and I ran up to the ball, hit it hard with the inside of my foot letting it roll slightly down my foot to give it a bit of curve. The ball flew off my boot, bent around the wall and ended up in the top right hand corner of the net. No one moved, and that included the keeper. There was silence and then my team mates surrounded me.

It was a great feeling and as I walked back for the restart; Ox Face looked angry … ‘Tough,’ I thought.

From then on my nerves left me and I enjoyed the match. I was able to make a couple of goals with pin point passes and then despite some heavy attempts at tackling from several players, including Ox Face, I scored another goal. After jinking around a few players, missing a lunging tackle for Mr Ox, I rounded the keeper and tapped the ball in.

The second half was much closer and they managed to score a three goals due to sloppy defending on our part and a penalty. The score was now 5-4 in their favour, with a few minutes to go. I was given the ball in my half; I passed it to a team mate and ran through the middle, desperately trying to avoid the bodies that were trying to stop me. He gave me the ball back and I glanced up, saw my target and then hit the ball hard and low into the net, past the outstretched left hand of the keeper. The whistle then went and that was it, we had drawn the game.

With praise ringing in my ears, we left the field and went to the dressing room. Mr Thomas came up and said, ‘Well done, good game, I’ll see you when you get changed, in the conference room, okay?’

I nodded, still too breathless to talk.

As we got out of our sweaty kit, several people came over and said how well I had played. I had a quick shower and changed. I listened to some of the banter coming from the other lads and marvelled at the different accents, a couple of them only spoke a few words of English, but most were okay and understandably English. I suppose only about half the players came from the UK and that was the way of football now, even in the lower divisions.

After the shower, I quickly got dressed. The room was emptying fast and many of the lads walked over and said goodbye to me in a very friendly way. I was doing up my trainers and could see a shadow. Looking up, my heart went into my mouth as there, before me stood The Ox!

‘Nicely played Mark, a pleasure to play against you.’

He was grinning and holding out his hand. I took it, wondering if he might squeeze my hand hard or even break it, but it was a pleasantly gentle handshake.

‘I hope to see you again and if we play again I want you on my side.’

‘Erm…thanks,’ I said, smiling up at this man giant.

He slapped me on the shoulder, nearly dislocating it, picked up his bag and went out.

10

After saying goodbye to Pete and the few remaining players still in the dressing room, I picked up my bag and made my way to the conference room.

I knocked on the door and walked in.

Seated around the table were Harry Collins, Mr Thomas and Jeff. They all had smiles on their faces.

‘Ah, Mark, come in and take a seat,’ said Mr Thomas.

I sat down and waited for the verdict. Was I good enough?

‘Right, just a few things; you aren’t very fit and that showed by your lack of real pace and the fact that you were blowing hard for most of the game. When you first went on the pitch you played badly, losing the ball a couple of times and letting your team mates down.’

My heart sank down into my boots at this. I thought that I had played okay and my team mates thought so anyway. ‘Perhaps the standard is too high here,’ I thought in despair only looking up when he spoke again.

‘However, I think that you have real talent and so does the boss.’

He picked up a phone and dialled a number.

‘Hi, boss, he’s here.’

Putting the phone down, he continued.

‘With a bit of intensive training, we should be able to get up to speed in a few weeks. I think…’

The door opened and everyone looked around. I stood up as I saw the boss walk in. He was smiling as he came over and shook my hand.

Sandy McPherson was a legend. He had managed Melchester United for nearly fifteen years and had won every trophy up to and including the Champions League, he was my footballing idol, and I was dumbstruck.

‘Nice to meet you Mark, and you Jeff, too; sit down lad, we need to talk.’

I sat down and he followed taking the seat at the end.

‘Have you explained everything, Mike?’

‘No just told him his shortcomings.’

‘You would. Now listen, Mark; I know that you are not sixteen yet, but you have a real skill and talent. Harry here rarely gets it wrong and I think he hit the hammer on the nail here. I want you to join us as a reserve team player. Would you like that?’

‘Yes please!’

‘It means a lot of hard work and commitment to yourself, your team mates and to all the management team. It might take you a few years to break into the first team, but if you show that you are willing to work and that your skill continues to improve, you should be playing regular first team matches before you are eighteen. Right, I have a meeting I have to go to. Leave your address details with Harry and we’ll send you a contract to be signed by you and at least one parent. I know that you have to finish school, and you’ll be part time until then, but we’ll work something out. I suggest you get an agent, I don’t normally like the buggers, but Harry knows a few that aren’t too bent and greedy. Right I’m off. Welcome to the team, Mark.’

I stood up and mumbled my thanks as he swept out of the room.

11

The next hour or so was a bit hazy, I was in shock, not really understanding all that was going on around me. Eventually, after saying goodbye to Harry and Mr Thomas, I found myself back in Jeff’s car on the way back to the café.

Jeff didn’t say much and I think that he was almost as shocked as I was at the fast pace of the events we had experienced today.

After pulling up at the café and switching off the engine he turned to me. ‘What a day! How are you feeling now?’

‘I…I don’t know. I can’t put it in words.’

‘Happy?’

‘Very, I just think that it’s a dream and I’m going to wake up in a bit and find myself at home in bed wearing my ni…night things and dad slapping me around the face.’

It’s real enough. Do you want to come home with me and have some tea, or would you rather be by yourself?’

‘Do you mind if I just go up to the flat? I’m a bit tired, I’ll have something to eat and then relax for a while.

‘Okay, if you need me just call. I’ll sign the contract for you when it comes. If they query it, we’ll somehow get your mum to sign it. Harry should ring you tomorrow with the name of an agent. Anyway, I’ll see you tomorrow; come downstairs to the café and have your breakfast there.’

‘Okay,’ I said getting out of the car, ‘and thanks, Jeff. You and Josie are the greatest!’

‘No problem, see you tomorrow.’

Giving me a wave, he drove off and I let myself into the flat. Going up the stairs, my legs ached. It was obvious that I wasn’t as fit as I thought, and that I would need to up my game, exercise wise. I promised myself to get up a bit early tomorrow and go for a run and do that every morning, if I could.

I dropped my bag on the floor and went into the bedroom. Changing into a pink strappy t- shirt and short skirt took just a few moments. I brushed my hair out, went over to the fridge and took out a can of Coke. Opening it, I took a few sips and then went into the bathroom. I took the tablets out of the cabinet, opened the packet and swallowed two. I managed to get these pills from a website in the USA that helps transgendered patients who need time to decide which direction they want to take. They are puberty-blocking hormone pills that delay puberty. I didn’t want to start growing hair and have my voice break before I had the chance to decide whether I wanted to be a boy or girl for the rest of my life. How I could carry on taking the pills and have a career as a footballer, I didn’t know. I never told my mum about the pills as she would have hit the roof, and as for my dad, he would have hit me and then gone ballistic. Maybe if I had the operation, I could play for the newly- formed Melchester United’s girls team!

For now, I wouldn’t worry; just enjoy the fact that I was going to be a real live professional footballer!

To be continued...

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My thanks go to the brilliant and lovely Gabi for editing and pulling the story into shape.