Chapter 5
5
The first house I’ve managed to find is part of a small gated community. We’re just about commuter belt enough to have a few new developments trying to look old, but given away by the shininess of the brick and excessive number of bedrooms. They’re not to my taste, but players often go for the security and comfortingly high-end fittings, so it makes sense to start here. As we pull up on the mustard yellow gravel drive, still damp from this morning’s rain, I start apologizing when there’s no sign of the estate agent.
Tony waves it away but adds, ‘Do you mind if we get out the car though? I’m a bit stiff.’
‘Of course. Nothing serious, I hope?’ I try to sound casual, but I’m sure Tony’s more than conscious everyone’s paranoid he’ll pick up another injury.
He shakes his head. ‘Nah, I just went pretty hard this morning. It’s normal soft tissue stuff, nothing more.’
Only I can’t help noticing the minute he’s out of the car, Tony’s leaning his weight against the driver’s door. I’d really rather not keep him standing around outside when he’s in discomfort. But peering through the bars of the black metal gate, the estate agent’s car definitely isn’t already inside.
I have another go at apologizing but Tony yawns and makes the same dismissive gesture with his hand. ‘Don’t worry ’bout it. Having to wait a few minutes’ll give us a chance to clear something up anyhow.’
I make my face into a polite question.
He looks me right in the eye. ‘The press conference. I did get a message from the office changing the time.’ His voice isn’t aggressive, but there’s an intensity that’s new.
‘I thought you might have.’ I’m careful not to break his gaze. ‘But it wasn’t from me.’
He purses his lips. ‘Yeah, I’ve been thinking maybe it weren’t.’
‘I promise you, it wasn’t. There are a few of us who may have messaged you about this, just signing off as “Player Care” as we usually do in case texts are coming from different members of the team, but I can’t think who would have done that, or why.’
Tony nods, still serious. ‘If you say so, that’s good enough for me.’ He looks down and draws a line in the gravel with the toe of his trainer. ‘Since I got here, any time I’ve asked anyone anything, they’ve said go talk to Genie, she’ll sort it. It don’t make sense them being like that if you was the type to get something wrong.’ He shifts his weight, but I think it’s more about being uncomfortable in the conversation than any lingering muscle strain. ‘And I know I got you in trouble with the boss over me being late, and I’m sorry ’bout that. I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions.’ When he looks at me, his eyes are scrunched up, he’s so keen to show contrition. ‘It’s just the trust thing, it’s a sore spot, you know?’
I smile gently. ‘I’ve never met a player where it wasn’t.’
He half laughs. ‘Yeah, that’s probably true.’ He pulls an uncomfortable face. ‘And I think maybe that’s not all I’ve got to be sorry over. Cos before I left, that first day, I did try to, like, lighten things up. But I don’t reckon it came out as funny as I was hoping.’
I work to hide how pleased I am. Now, when I daydream about Tony, it needn’t hurt my pride. Which is a relief, the last few days have been agony. ‘Don’t worry about it. I must’ve missed the joke. And Tony, I’m sorry too. I was just as bad, assuming you were making something up to explain your being late.’
He grins. ‘Yeah, you should’ve realized that weren’t likely.’
I nod, feeling bad.
But he crinkles his eyes at me. ‘Funnily enough, first day at a new club, it’s not top of my list, pissing off the best-looking woman in the place.’
I laugh to hide how taken aback I am. And I admit it, how pleased. Though working with Skylar and Katia makes it obviously untrue, I can tell it’s nicely meant. ‘And you wonder why I might think you’re capable of lying?’
He laughs too, harder than me. ‘The sad thing is, Genie, you’re only proving you can’t see the truth when it’s in front of you.’ His face changes suddenly back to serious. ‘But joking aside, you were just as bad. You was trying to gloss over it, even when you reckoned I was passing my mistake off onto you.’
‘Honestly, it’s fine, completely forgotten.’ I frown. ‘Except, it’s odd, don’t you think? Why someone sent that text? You sure it was signed off from Player Care?’
He shrugs. ‘Maybe. Thinking it over, do you think some journalist, looking to make a story out of me not showing up for the signing photo-op might have been able to hack one of the Player Care phones or something?’
I shrug. ‘Well, it doesn’t matter now, though I would like to find out who did that.’
We start making small talk about training and fixtures, but I’m more focused on the journalist idea. It makes sense. Or is that me leaping on an easy way out? I can’t bear to think it was one of my colleagues. Unless maybe I confused one of them? It’s crossed my mind I might have said something confusing to Katia, who genuinely thought the time had changed? Maybe when she found out it hadn’t she was too scared to tell me what she’d done. It’s only the last couple of years that I’ve had anyone to supervise, before that, Player Care was just me. I try to think if there is anyone else who could have sent that text that I could have also confused. The management side I’m not sure is exactly my strong point, so it could be that the whole thing’s my fault. Which is a worry because…
Tony cuts into the spiral of self-doubt. ‘You all right, Genie? You seem a bit distracted.’
‘Sorry, yes. Just wondering where the estate agent’s got to.’
I call their office, and the woman on the end of the phone tries to pretend there’s confusion over the appointment. But whatever other errors I might have made, I can’t believe this is down to me when I only set up the viewing this morning. If it was just my time they were wasting, I could be pleasant about it. But keeping Tony hanging about when he’s tired from training is unforgivable. I make that point quite forcefully. In the end, the receptionist is so desperate to get me off the phone, she provides the codes for the gate and the lockbox.
Tony holds the front door open and I glance up at him as I walk in. He’s obviously amused.
‘What?’
He widens his smile, flashing white teeth. ‘Just you’re a bit of a fierce one, is all.’
‘That’s why it’s called Player Care, not Estate Agent Care.’ Damn, that definitely sounded sulky.
Tony raises his hand. ‘I’m only laughing cos of how hard you tries to cover it up under the nice manners. Personally, I like a bit of an attitude. Keeps things interesting.’
His smile is exaggeratedly flirty, and I fight back the urge to banter back. Apart from it being highly unprofessional, I don’t think I could hide that, while Tony’s obviously playing at flirting, I’m having to constantly remind myself not to touch him. And not in a non-specific be-careful-of-his-personal-space sort of way.
I keep getting these intrusive hyper-colour flashes in my mind’s eye. Like he’s wearing this tight black t-shirt that leaves most of his upper arms bare, and as he pulls the door closed, I get this crystal-clear picture of reaching out and stroking from the hard muscle of his bicep down to his fingers. The effort involved in stopping myself doing it for real makes me dizzy. I try to clear my head, forcing myself to remember every tedious detail of the house’s specs.
Tony takes a polite interest in the shiny white walls and glass staircase in the entrance hall. But as he races through the living room, I can’t help that the involuntary image of him bending me over the sleek leather sofa is still sharp as we head into the kitchen. There’s barely a glance at the top-of-the-line appliances before he turns for the door.
‘Is this one not for you?’
He pulls a don’t-care face. ‘No, it’s fine. I mean, I could live here.’
‘But?’
He looks down at the stainless-steel countertop then back to me, as though I’ve caught him in a weakness. ‘It’s not very homey, is it?’
I smile to show I’m not offended that my first pick doesn’t appeal. ‘No, it’s a bit sterile for my tastes too.’
He nods, obviously relieved. ‘Yeah, that’s exactly right. And like I say, if the others are the same, it’s not the end of the world. I guess I just thought getting out of London, it’d mean I could find something that’s not a white box. You know what I mean?’
‘I do. And sorry, the next one’s similar, but we can skip it. The third house is maybe more what you’re hoping for, but it’s got its downsides.’
He grins. ‘Like what? A ghost in the attic or something?’
My smile is nervier than I’d like, but this is delicate, to say the least. ‘No, nothing like that. It’s a bit smaller. Not tiny, but not ideal if you’re planning on having loads of visiting friends and family, or big parties.’
He shakes his head briskly. ‘I’m not. Like I said this morning, I’m making a break from everything I was doing, the people I was hanging round with, all that. And I’m not that tight with family right now. One bedroom’d do me just fine.’
That’s good to hear even if I can’t see a monastic existence lasting long, but it doesn’t make the next bit any easier. I twist the collar of my blouse, then panic and glance down to check the buttons. Tony’s mouth twitches.
‘Um, Tony, the other thing, it’s, well, awkward.’
He does a ‘tell me’ gesture with his hands.
‘I know you wanted privacy, and I did try to steer clear of anywhere too close to other players or club staff. But there really aren’t many houses around here with a pool, and this one has by far the nicest…’
Tony interrupts, and thankfully, he’s smiling. ‘OK, tell me the worst. Who’s next door? The gaffer or the owner?’
‘Neither. I’m afraid it’s me. But there are lots of trees, so at most, I can see the roof.’ I sound distinctly sheepish.
Luckily, he doesn’t react like I’m a potential stalker. In fact, quite the opposite. There’s lion’s-roar-style laughing, then, ‘That’s all right. I promise, having you as a neighbour, it’d not be quite the ordeal you seem to think it’d be.’
‘So, you want to see that next?’
Tony nods like a parcel-shelf dog. ‘Yeah, for sure.’