Chapter 12 Mia
MIA
“Is it weird to go to a football game after a funeral?” Char looks at me with a pensive frown.
I shrug, leading her through the rabbit warren of hallways beneath the stadium. “Some people have a Wake, we’re going to watch Arlington flog Arsenal. My dad would have loved it.”
“Well, brilliant, then.” Char wrinkles her nose. “God, it stinks down here. How do men smell so bad?”
“Archie was never allowed to bring his shoes home,” I say with a laugh. “I told him, I don’t need my house stunk out like that, ta.”
We round the corner to the locker rooms, and I bang a fist against the open door. “WAG alert! Hope you’re all decent!”
The team cheers, and Char and I walk in just in time to see Adedayo and Troy Everest dash for the shower room in towels. The others all greet us loudly, Jordan and Ricky giving us wide smiles from across the room.
“Our good luck charm’s back!” Jordan announces, and the team whoops.
I hold my hands up, and give them all an indulgent smile. “No pressure or nothing.”
Char runs up to Jordan and throws her arms around him. He hugs her back eagerly, and I raise my eyebrows at him.
“Good luck tonight, darling!” Char plants a kiss on his cheek, leaving behind a smudge of nude lipstick. “You’re gonna kill ‘em!”
“That’s the hope,” Jordan replies. “Thanks for coming. I’ve never had anyone to give my tickets to before.”
Char cups his face in her hands and smiles. “Of course. I’m thrilled to be here.”
“Alright you two, off you go, this isn’t the boy aquarium,” Ricky teases, and waves a finger in the direction of the door. “I better hear you screaming for us.”
The team erupts in cheers and loud cries of “Eyyyyyyy!”, and Ricky rolls his eyes.
“No, no, that’s not what I-” He gives up, shaking his head and laughing as the others drown him out.
“We’ll scream for you, don’t worry!” Char blows them all a kiss from the door, and I drag her away before anyone else falls madly in love with her. The stadium above us is getting louder, the dull roar of the spectators echoing through the halls.
“Come on, let’s get to our seats,” I say, linking my arm through hers as we make our way up, up, up to the stands.
“This is brilliant!” Char exclaims, shielding her eyes from the bright lights as she looks down over the pitch. “What a view!”
“So.” I pull her down next to me and lean in close. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on with you and Jordan?”
Char gazes at me innocently, and flutters her eyelashes. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Char, give me a break. Running into his arms, calling him darling?” I jab a finger into her side and she giggles. “Come on, tell. I need to know everything.”
“There is nothing to know.” Char coquettishly flips her hair over her shoulder and gives me a smile. “Jordan and I are just good friends.”
“Yeah right, good friends who are shagging.”
She looks around to make sure no one is within earshot, and leans close to me. “He’s celibate.”
“He’s what?” I ask, probably a little too loudly.
“Celibate.” Char whispers the word emphatically, and nods. “I was surprised, too. But turns out he took a vow of celibacy before he left Ireland.”
“What the fuck for?”
Char shrugs. “I don’t know. He said he did something very, very bad. And now he has to do penance for it.”
“Wow.” I look down at the field. “Who’d have thought?”
“Mmmm. He wouldn’t even tell me what it was, but it was bad enough for him to leave Ireland.” Char drapes her arms over her crossed legs, looking down over the crowd beneath us. “Whatever it is, it still tortures him.”
I turn to her with a raised eyebrow. “And why exactly did he tell you all of this?”
“I will have you know that people trust me.” Char inspects her nails. “They know I’ll keep all their secrets. I have that trustworthy energy about me, you know?”
“Oh yeah, brilliant at keeping secrets you are,” I say with a chuckle. “The very soul of discretion.”
Char looks back at me with a roll of her eyes.
“Well, obviously that doesn’t count you.
I tell you everything. We’re a package deal, basically the same person.
Your brain is my brain.” She sighs happily.
“Anyway, you can rest easy knowing I’m not shagging Jordan Sumner, we’re just very good friends. ”
“If anyone can make a man break his vow of celibacy, it’s you,” I mutter under my breath, and Char giggles.
“Oh, look out.” Char grins over my shoulder. “Daddy DILF incoming.”
“I really wish you wouldn’t call him that.” I look over to see Dominic heading towards us down the stairs.
“Looking extra scrummy tonight,” Char murmurs in my ear with a giggle.
I groan quietly, and force myself to smile as Dominic’s eyes land on my face.
He does look good tonight. He’s wearing a dark grey suit with a grey duffle coat over the top, a blue scarf slung around his neck. How this man always looks so tan even in the dead of winter is beyond me.
“How is it you always look like you just spent a week on a Greek Island?” Char calls to him, and I really do wonder if maybe we are a bloody hive mind.
Dominic laughs abashedly as he comes to a stop at our row. “The joys of having Mediterranean genetics.” He looks down at me, and his expression softens. “Today went alright?”
“It did, yeah.”
Char shuffles down to the next seat, dragging me over with her. “Take a seat, Dom!”
“Oh, thanks.” Dom sits down beside me, his eyes not moving from my face for a second. “How was the funeral?”
“As good as a funeral can be I guess,” I say with a shrug. “No, it was nice. Small, just a few of us. My dad didn’t like ceremony, so it would have suited him.”
“And he’d approve of a football Wake, would he?” Dom grins.
“He was a dedicated Leeds supporter, but he’d have approved, for sure.” I chuckle softly. “Oh, and the home got back to me. The worker who snitched to bloody Hardcastle has been suspended pending an investigation.”
Dom raises his eyebrows. “Good. I’m glad to hear it.”
“Now we just need Hardcastle to get what’s coming for him and we’ll all be able to relax,” Char chimes in merrily. “Come on, Dom, you must know some big burly blokes who’d beat up a journalist for a tenner.”
Dom sucks on his teeth. “Rates have gone up, sweetheart. Times are hard for everyone.”
“Oh, shame.” Char nods morosely. “Perhaps I have some family jewels I can sell to help.”
“All proceeds greatly appreciated.” Dom gets to his feet and gives us a brilliant smile. “You’ll have to excuse me, ladies, I have sponsors to suck up to.”
“You go suck, we’ll be right here,” Char replies with a wave, and I wish the ground would swallow me up. “He’s just lovely isn’t he?” She snuggles into me, wrapping her arm around mine. “So nice that he took you home that night.”
“Yes, it was.”
“Bet he fucks like a god, too.”
I burst out laughing, my face flushing with heat. “Oh my god, would you stop?”
“What?” Char can’t help but laugh herself. “I’m just saying. A man like that, who’s kept in shape, he’s well fit, he smells bloody nice. Has a beard he probably loves soaking.”
“Char, I love you, but if you keep going, I’m going to have to kill you.” I jerk a thumb over my shoulder. “That man is my father-in-law, and I don’t want to be thinking about someone sitting on his fucking face and soaking his beard.”
Char’s eyes shoot upwards and she bites her lip, suppressing a laugh. “Forget something, Dom?”
God, if you’re real, please, kill me now.
I turn around slowly to look up into Dom’s face, and at least he’s as beet-red as I feel.
“I, uh, meant to give you both these.” He hands me two VIP cards. “They’ll, uh, give you, ummm… drinks. At the, uh…” He gestures vaguely towards the boxes. “Thing.”
“The bar?” Char offers.
“Yes, the bar. Thanks.” His eyes flash to mine for a second. “Enjoy the game.”
He hurries off up the stairs, and Char has the good grace to suppress her laughter under strained grunts and choking noises before Dom is out of earshot.
“You should have seen your face!” She claps her hand onto my thigh, bent double as she cackles. “Oh my god, that was brilliant!”
I sink down into my chair and shrug my coat up as far as it’ll go. “You’re a right bitch, you know that?”
Char puts her head on my shoulder, still giggling to herself as the stadium erupts into cheers.
“Oh, it’s starting!” She exclaims brightly. “About time!”
It takes all my willpower to focus on the game.
My mind is a spinning top, whirring at a million miles a minute.
I buried my father today, but I don’t feel as sad as I thought I would.
I haven’t even cried. Not at all. No, instead I’m sitting at a football game trying to focus on the players and not think about my father-in-law and his beard, and his muscles, and…
No, don’t even finish that sentence. You will not think about that man’s tongue on the day of your father’s funeral.
Except now I am thinking about it, and I want to throttle Char. My face is never going to stop burning. I’m going to be a beetroot for the rest of my life.
Who am I even kidding? I’ve thought about Dom almost constantly since that night at my house. The way he looked at me when he asked if he should stay, even though he insisted he meant the couch.
I’d told myself then that it was the grief. It makes you do stupid things. I wanted comfort from someone, to be held. And yes, alright, maybe being railed into oblivion would be nice, too. A good way to unwind and forget just how bloody awful that evening had been.
But every thought of that kind had been swiftly followed by revulsion at myself. This man was twice my age, and my husband’s father. Getting revenge on Archie would be sleeping with one of his teammates, or some vacuous underwear model.
Not his sodding father.
I give myself an internal shake. I don’t even want revenge, it has nothing to do with that. Is it even cheating if I’ve already decided I’m done with the marriage? If he’s bloody decided he’s done with the marriage?
Half-time rolls around, and we’re up 2-1.
And I’m a ball of anxiety.
Char drags me up to the bar, and I order a mocktail, to which Char says nothing.
“Aren’t you going to rib me about not drinking?”
She gives me a pointed look. “After today? That would make me worse than a right bitch, don’t you think?”
I swallow hard. “Thanks for understanding.”
“Babes, you don’t have to thank me. Of course I understand.” Char casts a glance around the room, eyes narrowed, champagne glass dangling in her hand. “What you reckon my chances are of finding a husband up here amongst these wealthy sponsors?”
“Like you need money,” I scoff. “You got plenty of your own.”
“Suppose I do.” Char’s face darkens for a second, then her bright demeanour is back. “Anyway, I heard something about a gala event?”
I nod as I swallow a sip of my drink. “Yeah, it’s like the biggest event outside of the awards show at the end of the season.” I narrow my eyes at her. “You fishing for an invite?”
She casually glances down at her glass. “Oh, I already have one. Jordan asked me to be his Plus One.”
“But you’re not shagging him?”
Her mouth widens in faux outrage. “I told you, I am not!” She gives me a smug grin. “Besides, whose plus one are you going to be?”
I balk for a second. Because she’s right. I’d go with Archie, usually. I haven’t been invited on my own.
Char punches me in the arm and giggles. “Oh, stop it. You know DILFy is going to invite you.”
“Please stop calling him that. Please.”
“Never.” Char casts a look over my shoulder and sniggers into her drink. “Don’t mention his beard, he’s sneaking up on you again.”
Of course he is.
Dom appears at my side, and I cast what I am sure is a maniacal smile up at him. “Hi there, game’s going well.”
“Yes, yes it is.” He rubs the back of his neck and sucks in a breath. “I was wondering if you’d consider being my Plus One to the gala.”
“Do you know, we were just talking about that!” Char slaps Dom playfully on the arm. “Timing! I told Mia that Jordan is taking me as his date, and now you can take Mia as yours!” She shakes her head with a sigh. “I love it when things fall into place like this.”
I am going to kill you. If we have a hive mind, read this. You are dead.
“Great!” Dom turns to me with a bright smile. “I can pick you up, if you like, or-”
“Oh, no that’s fine, I’ll meet you there.”
“If you’re sure.”
I wave a hand with a laugh. “Absolutely sure. It’ll be fine.”
Dom nods. “Alright then. I’ll be in touch.”
“Sure!” I watch him leave, and Char once again breaks out into giggles.
“Oh my lord, you two!”
I frown at her. “What?”
“What? What? The sexual tension there you could-” She chops her hand through the air in a zigzag motion. “Cut it with a bloody knife.”
“There is no sexual tension.” I down my drink, and yank on Char’s arm. “Come on, second half’s about to start.”
“Wait, my drink!” Char gulps down her champagne, barely managing to set her glass down before we get back outside. “Golly you’re rough.”
“Just you wait,” I mutter.
“Ooh, I love it when you get feisty.” She plops back down in her seat, and claps her hands together. “Let’s go Arlington!” Her shout sets off the crowd in the stands beneath us, and everyone starts cheering. “I think I should come to these more often.”
The second half passes more or less smoothly, until the stadium bursts into a chorus of Boos as a fight breaks out on the field.
“What is going on?” I crane my neck to try and make out what’s happening. “Is that…? Is that two of ours?”
Char gasps. “Bloody hell, it is.”
The fight pops up on the screen, and I gawp at the sight of Ezra and Ricky laying into each other while the rest of the team try to pull them apart. The crowd is going wild, yelling and pointing at the screen or the field, shouting obscenities as Ezra and Ricky snarl and punch.
“What the hell are they doing?”
Char folds her arms over her chest. “Speaking of sexual tension…”
I give her an exasperated side glance. “They’re beating the shit out of each other, you call that sexual tension?”
“We listen and we don’t judge.” She grins at the screen. “Bloody hell, they’re really going at it.”
The others finally manage to prise Ricky and Ezra apart, and after a stern talking to from Barry, they shake hands, and the game continues. I know Char’s talking shit, and maybe it’s just my own guilt making me see scandal everywhere.
But I start to wonder just how many of us are hiding some little secrets.
And how long it’s going to take for them to come out.