6
Straight away Greg seems different when I slide into the seat opposite him at the pub where we’ve arranged to meet– distant somehow, his voice flatter and quieter than usual when he says hello. But I don’t know if that’s because I’ve started to mentally detach myself from him this past week or if it’s because I’m late– he’s already halfway through his pint.
‘Is everything okay?’ I ask, hoping, given that he’s just come back from seeing his family, that he hasn’t had any bad news from home.
There’s an awkward moment where he seems to look at everything else around him but me– his hands, the bar, the ceiling, the glass of wine he’s bought me– until he finally blurts out, ‘I’ve booked myself a flight to Naples. Just for me. I was drunk when I did it and I thought I might regret it when I sobered up, but now it’s done I think it might be what I want. I’m really sorry. I know I should have spoken you first. It’s just, I just—’
‘I haven’t been around?’ I finish for him, and he seems to relax having not had to say it himself.
‘I don’t want to sound bitter or like I’m complaining. I know you’ve had a lot on your plate. But that’s given me a lot of time to think– about the trip, about us– and I just started thinking that I’m not sure it’s such a great idea any more. It’s not because I’ve stopped liking you, I still think you’re great, it’s just that life seems to be taking us on different paths. And I guess what I’m saying is, because of that I think it might be time for us to maybe think about going our separate ways.’
He looks at me then and I can tell from the way he’s holding his breath how uncomfortable he must have felt saying this. I’ll admit it’s taken me a bit by surprise– I thought it was going to have to come from me– but I’m not about to leave him suffering when I’ve been feeling the same way.
‘I’m sorry too,’ I tell him, feeling sadder than I expected to now it’s come to this, even if I do think it’s the right decision. ‘You’ve been so patient with me and I know I haven’t been very fair to you while I’ve been so preoccupied. But I have to agree. I think setting this football club up has made me realise we’ve got very different lives ahead of us. It makes me happy. I want you to be happy too. And I don’t think being a football widower is the way to make that happen for you.’
He laughs lightly then. ‘It’s definitely not. So does that mean you’re okay with this? You agree we should quit while we’re ahead and move on with our lives?’
I force a smile on to my face and nod my head. ‘I am and I do.’
Because although I’m sure there’ll be times when I’ll miss him, I also know I won’t be sobbing into my pillow every night because it’s over.
His shoulders drop as the tension leaves them. ‘I had a feeling you might be thinking along the same lines, but I was still slightly worried in case I’d got it wrong.’
It’s my turn to laugh softly. ‘On the contrary– it turns out you know me pretty well.’
‘Well you might not believe this, but I would still like to hear how you get on with all the football stuff, if you want to stay in touch, that is. I know you think I don’t care, but I do genuinely want it to go well.’
‘I can do that,’ I agree with a smile. ‘And if you want to, you can send me pictures of all the sandy beaches and plates of fresh seafood I’ll be missing out on throughout the summer. If you want to make me jealous, that is.’
‘I think it’s more likely to be bunk beds in youth hostels and two-euro plates of pasta, but yes I can do that too,’ he says.
There’s a moment of silence then, in which I think we both reflect on what could have been. But it passes quickly.
‘It’s been a pleasure dating you, Lily Crawford,’ Greg says, visibly more at ease now. ‘You’ll make someone a very lucky man one day.’
‘I hope you find your person too.’ And I really do mean it. ‘You might even snare yourself a gorgeous Italian girlfriend and end up staying there.’
He laughs properly this time. ‘It’s kind of you to have such faith in my pulling power, but I think I’m just going to do me for the next couple of months. There’s plenty of time to think about everything else when I get back.’
I’m about to tell him he doesn’t need to worry about upsetting me– I think he’s probably just saying this because he doesn’t want me to think he might get together with someone else on the trip I was meant to be on with him– but we’re interrupted by my phone, vibrating loudly on the wooden table as it rings. ‘Dad’ flashes up on the screen.
I push it to one side and tell Greg I can call back later. Sometimes Dad’s timing can be terrible. But no sooner has it stopped ringing than it starts up again.
‘You’d better get it,’ Greg says. ‘It might be important.’
‘It’s fine,’ I insist. ‘It’s probably just something he’s remembered to tell me about the player tryouts tomorrow. I’m sure it’ll keep.’
But then a message flashes up on the screen, in capital letters, saying, ‘Urgent family meeting. Get here when you can.’
‘Looks like he really does need to speak to you,’ Greg observes. ‘It’s okay, Lily. You should go. If you feel like you want to talk to me about us again later, you can call me, any time, I don’t mind.’
The right thing to do feels like staying here and making sure Greg and I both leave the pub feeling absolutely okay about everything we’ve decided, but Dad would not use the word ‘urgent’ lightly. And I’m distracted again when a message from Cassie pops up on the screen. ‘I’m just watching telly, I can nip round. Lils, are you close to home?’
I can be there in thirty minutes, twenty-five if I’m lucky with the Tube.
‘Come on.’ Greg scrapes his chair back as he stands up and takes the decision out of my hands. ‘Let’s drink up and get out of here.’
He downs the remainder of his pint and twirls his hand to indicate I should do the same with my wine. Then we head out on to the street and there’s an awkward pause because neither of us really knows how to say goodbye now we’re no longer a couple. But then Greg mutters ‘oh, fuck it’ and pulls me into a hug that we stay in for a long time before he finally kisses me on the cheek and says, ‘Good luck with everything, Lil.’
Then he makes me laugh one last time by shooing me in the direction of the station and saying, ‘Now go! Go find out what the latest score is.’
It’s not his best pun, but I love that he tried.
Back at the house, Cassie leaps out of her chair and says ‘thank goodness’ the second I walk into the kitchen. She comes round the table and gives me a hug. ‘Dad’s been driving me mad.’
I look at him over her shoulder. He’s beaming at me so broadly it’s bordering on maniacal.
‘He’s been jiggling around like one of my Year Twos when they need a wee in class, but he wouldn’t tell me why till you got here,’ Cassie says, sounding frustrated.
‘You do look a bit crazy, Dad,’ I tell him.
‘That’s because I’m excited,’ he says, giving me a hug of his own once Cassie has released me.
‘So can you spill the beans please, now Lily’s here?’ my sister asks. ‘Have we won the lottery or not?’
‘Kind of,’ Dad teases.
‘Are you kidding?’ Cassie exclaims. ‘Am I finally going to be able to pay someone else to finish off the work on my house rather than having to do it all myself?’
‘Not exactly,’ Dad says. ‘But I think you’ll still be happy.’
‘Is it Crawford-related?’ I ask.
‘Yes,’ he says, grinning so widely it must be making his cheeks hurt.
‘Come on, Dad, put us out of our misery,’ Cassie groans.
‘Okay, okay. Well, as you know, Redmarsh Rovers were quite hasty in their decision not to ground share with us.’
I grip the back of the chair I’m standing behind, anticipation quickly building. Is he about to tell us one of the remaining two has been in touch while I’ve been out– to finally offer us a deal?
Let it be Southmoor, I silently pray. They’re easily the next best option, and once we know where we’re playing, we can put our season tickets on sale.
But Dad’s still talking about Redmarsh Rovers when he says, ‘It seems they’ve had a rethink and concluded they might in fact be able to benefit from all the press and social media attention we’ve been getting. So they’ve reversed their original decision and are now willing to deal.’
Cassie punches the air in delight. ‘Oh, Dad, this is awesome!’
But there’s something in the way he glances at me that makes me hesitate. I think I can guess what he’s going to say next– the rent is not going to be cheap.
‘Can we afford it?’ I ask.
‘It’s a big commitment financially,’ he admits. ‘I’ve got some savings, but they were meant to be for me to pass on to you two for when I’m no longer around. The hope, obviously, is that we’d make it all back, but there’s no guarantee. So I wanted to see how comfortable or otherwise you both feel with the risk.’
I don’t think either of us wants to think about when he might not be here any more.
‘I’ll also look into loan options or, failing that, I’m not too far off being eligible for an equity release from my pension, so one way or another I can cover the cost,’ Dad says. ‘For the first year at least. But I didn’t want to agree to anything without running it by both of you first.’
It’s a lot for him to take on board, but I know how much this club already means to him now the feeling of being part of something that Hamcott Park used to give him has gone. So I throw the question back at him. ‘Are you comfortable with it?’
‘It’ll be the biggest gamble I’ve ever taken, but I still feel in my heart like I’d regret it if I gave up on all of this now.’
‘Then you have my blessing,’ I tell him.
‘Mine too,’ Cassie agrees.
His smile is back immediately. ‘Then I officially declare this a celebration.’