Chapter 58
Chapter fifty-eight
Imogen was met at reception by her hero, Nora Brady. Rosa smiled to herself as she watched her daughter fluster and blush at every word Nora said.
“So, we’ll go to the canteen and grab some lunch, go through any questions and expectations, and then if you still want to, we can get you joining in with the academy squad.
” Nora smiled, then turned towards Rosa.
“It’s quite new, so we’re still working things out, but Gabby’s intention is to start bringing through our own talented players. ”
“What about education? How does football work around that?”
“Good question. Right now, we have two age groups—those studying GCSEs and those wanting to do A-levels or further education. We want to work alongside schools and meet the needs of our players. If Imogen was to be successful and get offered a place, and she wanted to take it, we would work with the school to see her through her exams, and then moving forward, we’d take a more active part in sustaining educational needs. ”
“Right, that sounds promising,” Rosa said as they walked down a long corridor, images of players past and present on the walls. “And how would Imogen’s time be managed away from school?”
“What’s the concern?” Nora asked, stopping in front of a door.
“I’m just thinking that she’s a teenager and she has friends and enjoys the usual things teenagers do.”
Nora nodded. “Obviously we have expectations about behaviour. But we all like to have fun, right?” She smiled and opened the door.
The bubble of sound that had been muted a moment ago now bellowed out as they walked in to find the first team sitting together and eating.
Imogen’s eyes lit up as she looked around the room and spotted the familiar faces of the team she’d been supporting.
“Grab a tray—get whatever you want,” Nora said, grinning.
Imogen felt Rosa’s hand on her arm. “Come on then, head up. You belong in every room, remember that.”
“I know but…that’s Allegra Mann,” Imogen said, her eyes moving quickly from face to face. “Beth Nailor, Ladonya…”
“And you’re Imogen Cafferty-Fisk.” Rosa squeezed her arm. “They’re just a step ahead of you, not better than you.”
“Mum,” Imogen laughed, “they’re totally better than me.”
“As footballers, maybe. Not as people.”
Billy pulled up to the gates and buzzed down her window. The guard on the gate smiled at her.
“Hi, I’m picking up my daughter.” She noticed his name tag—Bill.
“What’s the name?”
“My daughter, or me?” Billy grinned. The guard didn’t. “Her name is Imogen Cafferty-Fisk. I’m Billy Fisk.”
He dragged a finger down a clipboard, and after finding what he was looking for, he finally smiled. “Okay, Ms Fisk, if you want to pull up to the building on the left and then park somewhere to the right of that.”
“Okay, great. Thank you, Bill.”
The arm of the gate rose and Billy hit the accelerator, driving in like a rally driver until she noticed the 5mph sign and slowed down to a crawl.
“Spoilsports.” She grinned.
As sports training centres went, she didn’t have much experience, but it all looked nice—freshly painted, windows washed, up to date for a club the size of Bath Street Harriers.
She parked up, got out, and wandered over to a door marked ‘Reception’.
“Hi,” she said the moment she walked in and found a young woman smiling at her from behind a big counter. “I’m just here to pick up my daughter.” She then proudly added, “She was having a trial with the academy.”
“Cool, she must be good. Name?”
“Uh, yes, she is,” Billy said, feeling even prouder, if that was possible. “Imogen Cafferty—”
“Fisk? Got it,” the woman said as she tapped away on the keyboard. “Did you want to go down and watch the end of training?”
Billy glanced at her name badge. “Sure, Josie, if that’s allowed.”
“Of course.” Josie grinned. “Gimme two seconds and I’ll show you where to go.”
“Thanks.”
While Billy waited, she checked out the artwork and the posters on the walls, reading about the goals and expectations Gabby Dean set for everyone at the club. It all looked good as far as Billy was concerned.
Josie appeared at her shoulder. “Ms Dean really does have the right direction in sight, doesn’t she? Ready?”
“Yes, and yes.” Billy smiled, following the younger woman out of the door she’d come in and around the building.
She could see the lights illuminating the pitch and hear the shouts of players talking to each other as they moved around, even before they were halfway there.
“The academy coaches will happily answer any questions you might have,” Josie said as she hit a keypad and entered the number that opened a metal gate. On the other side, the pitch was lit up and a game was going on—pink bibs versus yellow bibs. Imogen was in pink.
“Thanks.” Billy smiled at Josie. “Do I just sit over there?”
“Yeah. Make yourself at home. Never know, you might be here more often.”
“I hope so.”