Chapter 6
SIX
JONAS
Sunday came around too quickly for Jonas’ liking. He’d been awake since six. Now, at eight in the morning, he had to start the day.
With a sigh, he got out of bed and went straight into the shower. As usual, he stood under freezing cold water for five minutes. It was the only way to wake up properly. His mother had taught him that.
He screwed his eyes tightly shut and tried to clear his mind. It did no good. Today was a big day for Brockton and a lot of eyes would be on him.
Once he’d suffered the jets, he cranked the heat up and enjoyed the sensation. Life itself seemed to pulse through his whole system.
After the shower, he threw on a tracksuit and padded into the kitchen. The nutritionist at the club had given them all diet sheets and boxes of meals ready to be heated up.
He lifted the lid on today’s breakfast.
“Porridge,” he muttered to himself. “Not bad.”
In other clubs he’d been made to eat pasta first thing. Still if it meant their play was at top level, it was a small price to pay.
He grabbed the carton and left the apartment.
After running down the flight of stairs, he knocked on Tito’s door. It didn’t take long for the striker to open it.
“Who’s in the mood for a goal today?” he said, beaming.
Does nothing affect this guy?
Tito looked ready for a night out in a brown cashmere sweater and black jeans.
Jonas held up his carton. “Why don’t we eat together?”
Tito grinned. “Come on in. I’ll message Noah.”
They walked into Tito’s apartment. While Jonas kept his house perfect, Tito’s was chaos. Clothes were strewn on the sofas and food lay on the kitchen counters.
“Bloody hell,” Jonas said. “Did a bomb go off and no one told me?”
Tito fiddled with his phone. “I’m going to tidy up when we get home. I didn’t know what to wear.”
“To arrive at the ground?”
Tito put the phone down and stared at Jonas as if he were a fool.
“The ground that will be swarming with paparazzi. You are not wearing that.”
It had even occurred to Jonas. “Do you expect me to wear a designer outfit?”
“Erm yes.”
“Tough.”
Tito shook his head. “Don’t come crying to me when I get all the sponsor money and you’re the face of comfortable leisure wear.”
He emptied the contents of Jonas’ carton into a pan. He also opened another which he added to the mix.
“Aren’t you going to microwave it?”
Tito shook his head. “Tastes better this way.”
Jonas hopped up onto a stool against the kitchen island.
“Before Noah comes down, how do you think he is?”
“He’s been quiet since Friday night,” Tito replied. “I offered him a PlayStation challenge last night but he wanted to chill. I suppose everyone deals with pressure differently.”
“Aren’t you bothered?”
Tito gently stirred the porridge.
“Of course,” he replied. “I hate hate. Full stop. There’s only one way to defeat it though.”
“And what’s that?”
“To win.”
It sounded a line straight out of Adam’s vocabulary.
They were interrupted by a knock at the door.
“Will you get it?” Tito asked.
“Sure.”
Jonas headed over to the door and opened it. To his joy, Noah also had on a tracksuit with a rucksack slapped on his back. Noah smiled.
“Morning.”
“How you doing?”
“Honestly? I’m shitting myself.”
Jonas shook his hand as he came in. “I think we all are deep down.”
They walked into the kitchen.
“Not another bloody scruff bag,” Tito wailed. “We will have a conversation about this.”
Noah frowned. “Are you going out after?”
“No I’m not,” Tito replied. “I’m cultivating a public image. Today will be fire.”
“Should I get changed?”
“Yes,” Tito exclaimed.
“No,” Jonas said at the same time.
Poor Noah had indecision all over his features. “Sod it,” he said, hopping up on a stool. “I’ll sort it by the next match.”
Tito sighed and resumed stirring.
“Did you bring your porridge?” Tito asked.
Noah shook his head. “Already ate it.”
“Two bowls, Haber. Come on.”
Jonas shook his head. “It’s more work coming to yours for breakfast than it is staying at home.”
“Quickly or it’ll burn.”
Jonas did as he was told. Living in identical apartments meant he knew his way around Tito and Noah’s homes. Tito insisted on the microwave being in one of the spare rooms. He’d watched an online documentary on the dangers and had taken it to heart.
“You know what, Noah,” Tito said, taking the pan off the heat. “When we faced you last year, you were a fucking nightmare.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah? All over the pitch. Do that today and you’ve nothing to worry about.”
“I stopped you from scoring, that’s for sure.”
Tito stuck his tongue out.
Jonas took a seat at the dining table.
“What do we do if they boo us?” he asked. “The home fans, I mean.”
Noah hopped off his stool and sat next to him. “That’s what I’m worried about.”
“Pretend you can’t hear it,” Tito said, filling two bowls. “This is only the first game. We have a whole season to persuade them we belong here. At least we’ve got each other. Poor Udo had to handle that shit all on his own.”
Jonas took a bowl from Tito.
“That’s not true,” he said. “Adam and the others rallied. From what I heard it was the making of him.”
He took a taste of his breakfast and immediately burnt his tongue.
“Din j?vla sopa!” he burst out.
Tito sniggered, which set Noah off.
“You literally just watched me take it off the heat,” Tito said. “Patience, my friend.”
Jonas wiped his mouth with his sleeve. Tito shuddered.
“I didn’t know you’d heated it with uranium.”
“You and Adam are getting on better,” Noah said.
What did he mean by that? Jonas tensed.
“After costing him a small fortune with my stupid mouth,” Jonas replied, “I figured it might be a good plan to keep the captain on side.”
“Don’t blame you,” Tito replied. “He seems decent. Not like some of the others. When can I start making suggestions in training?”
They had been Brockton players for almost a week and Tito had rubbed more than one person up the wrong way.
“Stop winding people up,” Jonas replied. “You’ll end up making trouble for yourself. Adam said he doesn’t want any issues this season.”
Tito made a face. “And we mustn’t upset Adam, must we?”
“Are you sure you shouldn’t be playing in the under-18s squad?” Noah asked.
Jonas burst out laughing.
“That got you.”
Tito gave them the finger.
“Not bad, Farman. You’d better pass to me this afternoon or I’ll trash your flat.”
“Get yourself into position and the ball’s yours.”
Jonas enjoyed listening to the banter. Noah had been quiet most of their time at Brockton. It pleased Jonas to see him coming out of his shell.
Who knew what they would find.
He also made a note to stop singing Adam’s praises all the time. He saw nothing wrong in respecting the captain, but maybe he’d been overdoing it.
A few hours later and they were in the locker room at their stadium, Brockton Park. They only usually came here on match days. The training facility was their true home. Usually it felt nice to be playing in front of the home crowd.
That certainly wasn’t a given today.
“Everyone okay?” Adam said.
He stood in the centre wearing only the tightest white briefs. They were clearly doing the Lord’s work containing his bulge. Jonas bit his bottom lip to clear his mind of the filth swirling around in it.
“Ready to show them who’s boss,” Tito replied.
“I want you two on the same side,” Adam said, pointing to Tito and Ewen.
“Me?” Ewen cried out. “I’m the best buddy this kid could ask for.”
Tito caught Jonas’ eye. There was a glint that spelled trouble.
“Crossing the age divide,” Tito said. “Amazing stuff.”
Ewen opened his mouth when Adam stopped him with a hand on the shoulder.
“If anyone gets Lopes in the Secret Santa, please buy him a joke book. His humour needs a reboot.”
Even Tito’s face cracked at that one.
Adam’s whole face lit up when he got the room under his control. It showed that he took pleasure in pleasing others and being the leader of the pack.
Steven came into the room. As usual, his first gaze was reserved for Udo before he gave them all his attention. Jonas took strength from these two. Even if he had a tiny seed of jealousy.
“How are we doing?”
“Getting there,” Adam said.
He pulled his shorts on. Jonas was impressed how Adam commanded the room. It gave him chills.
“Any sign of the protestors?” Noah asked.
Steven leant against the wall.
“’Fraid so,” he said.
Jonas stopped. “Really?”
“Not loads,” Steven said. “Behind the east goal there’s a contingent of fans who aren’t happy.”
Everyone seemed stunned. The unnatural silence in the locker room became overwhelming.
“How do you know?” Jonas asked.
Steven sighed. “They have signs. No rainbows at the Brock. That kind of thing.”
For fuck’s sake.
“Javier wanted you to know,” Steven continued. “Better than being surprised.”
Jonas swallowed. He could handle this.
“Thanks,” he said. “All we can do is turn this into fire.”
Next to him, Goran nodded.
“Fuck them all,” he said fiercely.
“Wise words,” Steven said, clapping his hands together. “Javier will be here in fifteen for a chat. Let’s get this show on the road.”
They all cheered as he left the locker room.
Alain walked forward. “Merde. I can’t take it anymore.”
Everyone fell silent.
“What?” Tito asked.
“Who is gay and who isn’t?” the French defender said.
The exasperation on his face made Jonas chuckle.
“Alain!” Adam said.
“Does it matter?” Tito asked.
Alain returned to his spot and sat down. He resembled an angry toddler.
“Not at all. It’s killing me. That is all.”
Tito shrugged. “Well I am and I don’t care who knows it.”
“Same here,” Noah added. “It would be a bit odd to transfer here if I wasn’t.”
All eyes rested on Jonas. It always shocked him that anyone would even ask. He thought it totally obvious.
“That’s a hat trick, boys,” he said.
They all cheered. He would never have experienced a moment like this at Canonbury.
“We’ll be outnumbered soon,” Alain said.
“When I first came here, my translator was gay,” Jerzy said. “It’s no big deal.”
“Absolutely correct,” Adam added. “Colin. Put Jerzy down for ten Skipper points.”
Colin typed furiously into his phone.
Alain held his hands up. “No argument from me. It’s less competition. Which is a good thing for Ewen here.”
Poor Ewen had been minding his own business, putting his shirt on. His head popped out of the top.
“Me? How did I get dragged into it?”
“Sorry, old man. It’s been a while since we saw you with anyone,” Alain replied. “I figured you’d lost your nerve.”
“It’s the performance on the pitch that matters,” Ewen said.
“Well said,” Adam added. “We’re going to annihilate Hawkstead today. Got that?”
They all shouted the affirmative.
Jonas held Adam’s eye for a second.
He could do this. It was time.