~ 15 ~
Lily
Rona stirred beside me in the bed. She was an extremely cute sleeper.
She sometimes did little breathing noises which I found myself listening to during the night.
It was so comforting. She was curled up like an adorable creature and all I wanted to do was hug her and smell the side of her head.
I’d been awake for a while, reading, and I’d just about managed not to wake her up, which I was proud of myself for.
“Morning,” Rona mumbled. She turned over and reached for me.
I found her hand and held it. I loved her voice, its velvety intelligence, but I loved it most when she was being soft and sweet like this. It felt like a voice she’d only use for me.
“Good morning.” I leaned over and kissed her lips briefly, pausing to inhale her before I sat back up.
“Don’t smell my morning breath. I want you to find me attractive. I can’t have you knowing I’m a real person this early on.”
“I know you’re a real person, Rona. I love how you smell, morning breath and garlic breath. I’m here for it.”
Rona gave me a small smile and shook her head. “You’re weird, and I’m here for that.”
I shrugged and caught myself before saying it was only because I loved her.
It shocked me. Was that how I was feeling?
I stayed silent as I processed. It was definitely too soon to tell her I loved her.
She would think I was mad. Maybe I was mad.
I didn’t do the whole love declaration thing that most lesbians did early on.
I’d never done that. For me, it took me a while to really trust someone.
I’d trusted Rona almost immediately, though, come to think of it.
But we were still building that, and I didn’t want to freak her out.
Rona looked up at me with slight concern. “What are you thinking?”
I closed my book and put it on the bedside table. “Nothing.”
She sat up and glanced at my book. “Have you been up for a while? What are you reading?”
“About an hour. It’s another book about purpose.
” I’d been doing a lot of reading lately.
My brain was soaking it up. Some of it reminded me of the time we worked with a psychologist before the World Cup when we talked about visualisation and how to stay calm under pressure.
I couldn’t get enough of the self-help section in the bookshop.
I’d gone in with a backpack and practically bought the whole shelf.
The books were piled up beside the bed. When Rona went to the studio, I picked one up and immersed myself in it.
She’d been going into the studio a lot. I had no idea music producers worked such long hours, then again, I knew nothing about producers before I met her.
When Rona would get home or I went over to hers, I’d tell her everything I read, and she seemed to love hearing about it.
She too loved getting engrossed in a new area of interest, she’d told me, so she understood.
I was touched that she encouraged me as much as she did.
“Oh yeah, what does it say?”
“The thing that’s sticking out to me is this idea that you need a strong why, a strong reason for doing what you do, and if you have that, it’ll be clear what your purpose is.
I don’t know what my why is yet, much less what I want to do.
I’m still figuring it out. It also says that if you don’t know your why, you can focus on who you want to help and who you want to impact. ”
“Do you know who?”
I shook my head. “No. Everyone?”
“Maybe think about what you like doing? What’s the thing that makes you forget what time it is? Apart from playing football, obviously.”
“Being with you.”
Rona rolled her eyes. Were we too soon into our relationship for eye rolling? I wasn’t sure but I loved it when she did it in any case.
“Well, other than you, at the moment it’s reading self-help books and listening to motivational podcasts. I’m gobbling them all down like I’ve been intellectually starved my whole life. Maybe I should do a degree in something.”
“Start there. Explore it. Go deeper into it.”
“You’re right. I think I will. Maybe I could write a book or something?”
“Maybe you could,” Rona agreed. “How are you feeling about today?” Rona squeezed my hand.
I’d been invited on a podcast about high performance by one of the most popular podcasters out there. It was going to be a high-profile interview, that was for sure. “I’m excited. I hope I’ll make sense. I mean, what do I know about anything?”
“Uh, you led the country to multiple trophies. You captained your team. Are you fishing for compliments here woman? Because you know I’ll sit here and dish them out all day.”
I shook my head. “Sorry. I’m not. What I mean is that everything I’ve done has been instinctual, and part of a team. I haven’t studied anything. I’m no expert.”
She stroked my arm. “You know more than you think. You have experience, and that carries weight. Anyone can write a book and pontificate from the sidelines but where are their trophies? I’m not saying your self-development books are crap, I’m just saying you should have more confidence in yourself. ”
“You’re good to me.”
“I’m just saying what I see. What’s one area you feel most confident in?”
I thought about it. “Motivation. How to stay motivated, how to focus on winning, and how to motivate others especially when the chips are down. I guess belief too. Because I don’t think we would have achieved half as much as we did with England and in the clubs I played for, if we didn’t believe in ourselves.
And I know that we worked on that and how. It was part of our training.”
“How many people do you think have those skills?”
“Lots, probably. Especially professional athletes.”
“I don’t know about lots. Maybe the athletes. But I’m sure you could help people by talking about it. And you speak so well. That’s another great talent you have. Girl, you’re going to be fine.” Rona lay back down on the bed.
“I’m a woman, thank you very much,” I replied, teasingly.
“All woman, I know,” Rona said, with sparkling eyes.
I moved towards her and propped myself up with my elbow. I hovered above her, hoping we might kiss after this, marvelling at how easily we moved around each other. Our bodies were in sync. We fitted together. “Seriously, thank you for helping me with all this. I feel much better.”
Rona reached up and stroked the back of my neck. I got goosebumps.
Gently, she pulled me towards her and we kissed softly. Intimately.
Rona did not open her mouth though. I ached to feel her tongue.
She pulled back. “Not so fast. I need to brush my teeth. You need to get ready, too. We can’t be frolicking before your big moment in the spotlight.”
“I would prefer to frolic.”
“I’ll make breakfast.” Rona got up. She was wearing one of my oversized t-shirts and the bottom of her ass showed underneath it.
“Hey,” she said. “Head in the game, remember?”
“I love it when you’re strict like this.”
Rona and her gorgeous ass disappeared out of the bedroom.
I lay back down and stared at the ceiling. Something about this invite onto such a well-known podcast made me feel alive. There was something so expansive about it. I couldn’t wait to get down there.
***
The podcaster’s team was very professional.
Very polite. I was a huge fan of the show and was routinely watching his videos on loads of different topics circling this idea of high performance.
Daniel Greenwood introduced himself with a hug.
He seemed grounded, genuine, and very switched on. I liked him instantly.
“Welcome, Lily Sharpe. We’re so happy to have you with us today. I’m a big fan.”
This was such a trip. I never got used to people recognising me and appreciating my time in football, especially people whom I admired and weren’t in the football world. “Thank you. That means a lot coming from you. I mean, I’m a massive fan of you and your show. I listen to you all the time.”
He nodded confidently, once. It felt like an appraisal albeit a positive one. “Happy to hear that. Let’s get you prepped and my assistant will run through the format and question set.”
I was guided through the plush studio in the middle of Shoreditch to a sort of dressing room. The assistant had red hair, wore thick black glasses and a tweed blazer. Her look was very librarian, and it suited her. I felt safe in her company.
She handed me a sheet of paper with a list of questions and notes. “If you want to give this a read through that could help with the flow of things. Our make-up artist will be in soon. She can see if you need and want a touch up.”
I gripped the paper. I’d done interviews to television and once appeared in a documentary.
I’d spoken with journalists and went on various radio stations in addition to my more recent commentating gig.
But none had been exclusively about me as a person.
I’d avoided those types of interviews so far because my football was about my team.
Not me as an individual. Today was one way to buck that trend though.
After a little bit of make-up and two read-throughs of the questions, I found myself sitting in the famous studio. It had a simple round table with some sparsely decorated contemporary bookcases behind us, and some plants. The space itself seemed to encourage a deep conversation.
Daniel breezed in and sat down. He straightened his chair and tucked his papers neatly in front of him. He looked up and smiled at me warmly, as if gathering his thoughts and biding his time.
Assistants and camerapeople fussed around us. I’d been given a silver cup with coffee in it.
“Before we get started, was everything okay on the list of questions?”
“Mostly. But I was wondering if we could not focus so much on the questions at the end about what I’m planning to do next. You know, the ones where you ask about what my next move is and where I see myself in five years’ time?”
“What do these questions bring up for you?” Daniel leaned forward. It felt like the show had started already.