Chapter Seventeen #2
Georgia chanced a glance at the touchline, where Maggie paced frantically, hands in her hair. The subs were on their feet as well, heads turning between the action on the pitch and the blinking red countdown on the stadium’s digital clock.
Georgia swung her head back towards the pitch as someone shouted her name. Jen was at the back of a ruck, hands on the ball, and sent a looping, curving pass over the top of several Camden players, right into Georgia’s waiting hands.
There was only JJ in front of her. Georgia stared her down as she ran, watching for any chink in the armour.
There it was. A split-second hesitation as JJ planted her feet.
Georgia shifted the ball to her right hand, and stuck out the left, pushing JJ away from her as she ran through her. She could hear the echo of the Redford girls’ glee: a hand off to the face.
JJ grabbed her hand, her wrist, but Georgia broke through, heartbeat in her mouth.
The try line came up fast. She dove, the ball safe in the crook of her arm.
The roar from the crowd was deafening. The girls swarmed her, piling into a heap on top of her, screaming, shouting, pressing her into the grass in their delight.
Kamsi didn’t let the team down at the conversion, and when the referee blew the final whistle minutes later, it was to a Westcliffe victory.
Camden filed out silently, heads down, but the Westcliffe team stayed on the pitch, leaning over the barriers, speaking to fans.
Riley was in the corner filming a pre-choreographed dance routine, avidly watched by a whole flock of teenage girls.
Georgia was half-surrounded by parents and their kids, handing her balls and matchday programmes to sign.
Someone from Westcliffe’s media team tried to hand her a branded phone case, wanting her to take selfies with fans they could use as content for their official channels.
Georgia ignored the media team and instead made her way down the barriers towards the gaggle of red and black shirts, all shouting her name like she’d single-handedly won the World Cup. Her heart was still pounding from the match as she jogged towards them, and her grin almost split her face open.
“Hey girls,” she said, leaning on the barrier in front of them. “Hey Tam.”
Tam pressed a kiss to her cheek over the railing, her cheeks pink with cold under her Westcliffe beanie. “Surprise! We missed your first match as captain, so we decided we simply had to come to this one.”
“Georgia!” one of the girls shouted, grinning just as wide. “You absolutely smashed JJ!”
“Yeah,” another one agreed. “And she deserved it.”
“Bosh!” another shouted, slamming one fist into her own open palm, her eyes gleaming with delight. Georgia was sure she was the same kid who’d been so enamoured with Georgia’s previous hand offs. “Savage.”
“That was all textbook,” Georgia demurred. “All form, no rage.”
“Liar,” the first girl said smugly. “You were vicious, and we’re here for it.”
Erin stood behind them, arms folded, watching with a small smile.
Georgia caught her gaze and offered her a grin of her own.
The girls quietened for a moment, but Georgia could see their heads start to turn, moving between her and their coach.
She swallowed, bringing her focus back to the sea of eager faces in front of her. “You lot training hard?”
“Every week,” the hand off fan answered. “Except today, obviously, though Erin said watching you would be as good as a whole tactical masterclass.”
“Did she?” Georgia stole a glance over their heads. Erin focused on something in the middle distance, determinedly avoiding her gaze.
“Yeah,” the girl continued, nodding enthusiastically. “And Tuesday we ran sprints like you showed us.”
“Erin said,” another one interrupted, “if we didn’t want it more than anyone else, someone would take it from us.”
Georgia raised an eyebrow and shot Erin a mock glare. “Brutal.”
“Except,” Erin said, finally joining the conversation, stepping forward to lean on the barrier, her hands just inches from Georgia’s, “didn’t you just prove me right?”
Georgia opened her mouth to answer, but a voice cut through the chatter.
“Hotch! There you are!”
Matt, beer in one hand, shouldered his way through the crowd. The Redford girls made way for him, bunching up as he pushed past them towards the barrier.
“Been looking all over for you, reckon we’ve walked round the whole pitch twice.”
She straightened up and ran her hand through her hair, smoothing it back from her face. “Hey, you.”
The girls were looking between them with interest.
Matt smiled brightly. “That last try - cracking. You were flying.” He leant over the barrier to kiss her. She moved at the last moment, his lips landing on her cheek.
“Fight was exciting though, wasn’t it? It's not how I’d have reffed it, but I’m sure that Clare or Cheryl or whatever knows what she’s up to.”
“Sian,” one of the Redford girls corrected. “She’s called Sian.”
Georgia winked at her, earning a nervous giggle from the girl, as Matt turned round and waved Deano and Stu forward.
“Thanks for the tickets,” Stu said. “If I knew there was gonna be girl on girl action, we’d have come down sooner.”
“Stu,” Tam protested weakly. “Please.”
Deano laughed, Matt elbowing him in the side.
They were all much drunker than she’d hoped.
Out of the corner of her eye, Georgia risked a glance at Erin.
She was staring out across the pitch again, watching the movement of the crowds, deliberately ignoring the men in front of her. A muscle ticked in her jaw.
“You coming for a drink later?” Matt asked. “We’ve got a table booked at… What was it?”
Deano looked down at his phone, scrolling through his emails for the reservation. “Dog and Bucket.”
Georgia knew it. It was normally full of football fans, the TVs on every wall flashing with league games from around the world. On a match day, and especially on a themed match day, the queue at the long, sticky bar would be five people deep.
“Our train’s not till 10.45,” Matt said. “Plenty of time for dinner - the pub says it serves food.”
Georgia hesitated. She could, but that would leave Rachel in the flat alone. She’d joked about it to Maggie, but that was just a joke. Today, after a red card, it wasn’t a laughing matter.
“I can’t,” she said, trying to sound apologetic. “But I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Matt nodded. “Alright. My evil plan to win you over with buffalo sauce and excessive tequila will have to wait.”
Georgia managed a laugh, light and noncommittal. “It’s a solid strategy.”
Matt leant in again to kiss her cheek, more symbol than heat, then jogged off after Deano and Stu with a casual wave, disappearing into the stream of fans heading for the gates. She watched him go, a strange feeling of not-quite-regret turning in her stomach.
As he disappeared back into the crowd, one of the taller girls snorted. “Was that your boyfriend, Hotch?” She sounded distinctly unimpressed.
Georgia exhaled slowly through her nose. “Something like that.”
The girls were talking amongst themselves. “Wasn’t he Mr Mitchell, our ref?”
Georgia took a breath to reply, but the girl’s question was answered swiftly by her teammate. “Yeah, you know, the one that Erin says is…”
Tam clamped a hand over her player’s mouth and shot Georgia an embarrassed smile. “That’s enough, I think girls,” she said. “Georgia must be getting cold, and we have to get going.”
Tam started to move away, ushering the girls with her. What had Erin said about Matt? Knowing Erin, nothing nice.
Behind her, the ground staff were already moving across the pitch, marking out the areas needing repair after the match.
The last scraps of black and green bunting fluttered in the wind behind Georgia.
Almost all of her teammates had gone inside, heading for the showers and Maggie’s post-match debrief.
Georgia took a couple of steps backwards, raising her hand in goodbye.
“Will you come and see us play?” one of the girls asked. “We’ve got a match tomorrow.”
“Georgia has plans,” Erin warned. “We can see if she’s free another time.”
Georgia leant on the barrier. “I’m afraid she’s right.” Her heart almost broke at their disappointed faces. “I'll speak to Tam and coordinate diaries.”
“Promise?”
Georgia met Erin’s eyes for a second, then pulled her attention back to the girls in front of her. “Promise.”