Chapter 28
28
A knock at the door later that evening triggers an undignified competition between me and Roudie over who gets there first. And when it is indeed Tony, eleven minutes early and still in match-day jacket and joggers, there’s an even less dignified tussle over who gets their paws on him. In the end, I manage to push past the pup and wrap my arms around Tony’s neck. I wait for him to pull me in, but he doesn’t.
There’s an awkward moment, when I’ve held him a fraction too long without any response, and have to step back and politely ask him in. He’s holding a bottle of red. I try to pretend he didn’t hug me back because he was worried about dropping it, but that doesn’t explain why he shuffles away until his back’s against the door. The light from the hall’s bare bulb picks out the lines on his forehead.
‘Tired?’ I ask.
He nods. ‘Knackered.’
‘I’m not surprised, today didn’t look like much fun.’ I try to force my voice into soothing instead of scratchy. I streamed the game when I got home, so it’s ridiculous to be on edge over Tony not being all over me, when I knew he’d hate losing. Top-class players always do. It’s part of their DNA, as is the struggle LeMar has when we do our children’s hospital visits and I have to bribe him to let sick kids beat him at board games. I should just be glad Tony’s here with me, not… except I’m not thinking about her any more, am I?
Tony narrows his eyes and turns his head. ‘Hang on a sec, you saw the game, then?’
I nod and search for a non-patronizing way to say continuously meddling with the system is the manager’s vice, not a reflection on Tony’s ability. And anyway, it wasn’t Tony’s deeper-lying role that was the problem, it was LeMar getting over-eager, playing off the shoulder.
Tony cuts in. ‘All of it, not just the first half?’
‘Of course.’ I mirror the tilt of his head, we both seem equally confused. ‘Why?’
‘Just I don’t wanna be taking nothing under false pretences.’
That hasn’t made things any clearer. ‘Like what?’
He looks down at his hands. ‘The hug and stuff.’ There’s a quick glance up under his lashes, the confiding child expression I can’t resist. ‘I wasn’t sure I’d be welcome, after how today went.’
I step back. Surely he can’t think I’m just another ball bunny, only interested in him after a win? ‘You’re always welcome. Win or lose, it makes no difference.’
Tony grimaces. ‘Not cos of the result. Cos of the thing with LeMar. Could you not see what went on?’
I smile, relieved that this is only a misunderstanding. It was the crowd getting after LeMar for being caught offside that got him flustered, not Tony. And it was LeMar who got in Tony’s face, over what I guess he thought were mistimed passes, not the other way around.
I make my voice teasing. ‘It was just about noticeable. But you did have to be watching ever so closely. I can’t imagine it’ll make it onto Match of the Day .’
Tony shakes his head at me, but some of the tension’s gone from his hands. ‘It’s nice you can take the piss, love. And to think the whole way back here, I was worried sick you’d want done with me over it.’
‘Over what?’ I ask, trying to be serious when I want to grin. The ‘done with’ has got to mean he already thinks there’s something real between us.
‘Well, LeMar, he’s your boy, isn’t he?’
I shrug. ‘That doesn’t mean he’s never wrong. And Tony, don’t you think you should be happy about it?’
‘How’d you mean?’
‘Well, you didn’t lose your temper, did you?’ Better than that, when LeMar blew up, Tony walked away. And yes, LeMar might not have got quite so angry if Tony hadn’t provided a few home truths about his positioning. And Tony could perhaps have tried harder not to laugh, but he’s not a saint, is he?
Tony bends over to pet Roudie, but not fast enough to hide the smile, like he’s genuinely pleased. ‘Yeah, I reckon I’ve got that under control all right. But then, I’ve had a bit of help, haven’t I?’
I might’ve pulled the odd string to stop Tony being top of the list for every club commitment, but I’m not going to take credit for his work. Instead, I stretch out my hand for the wine.
He hands it over. ‘I know genies have mixed feelings over bottles, but I reckon you’ll like this one OK.’
I glance at the label. ‘Umm, thank you. I’d happily live in this one. Should I open it now?’
I’m expecting the usual request for water, but Tony looks at me, eyes shy. ‘You can, but I’m dying for a beer, if that’s OK?’ He hands over a bag of beers I hadn’t spotted in his other hand. Before I can say anything, he hurries to add, ‘The nutrition people here are all right ’bout it, if it’s like just the one.’
I smile. ‘I know. Carbohydrate reloading and all that.’
I herd Tony through to the sitting room, which the log burner has made invitingly cosy, despite the limited furnishings. And as I open a couple of lagers, I’m beaming. Tony feeling he can have a drink is the strongest sign yet that he’s settling. Plus, if he’s ready to relax the iron discipline, there’s a chance he’ll be able to sustain it.
I’m not sure it’s physically possible to smile more, but it makes me even happier to see Tony settled on the sofa with Roudie pressed up against his feet in a cravenly obvious ploy to stop him leaving. As I hand Tony the bottle, he smiles a thank you. But when his fingers brush mine, he pulls away like it burns. I sit beside him, close but careful not to touch, since it seems that’s unwelcome.
He points at my stripy sleeve. ‘That looks great on you, by the way. But I should probably let on it was more of a gift than something going spare.’
Is that what he’s worried about? That I’m going to overreact about a tiny half-truth? I meet his eye. ‘Then I like it even more.’
There’s an odd pause, then he pulls at the knee of his joggers. ‘Er, Genie, is it OK if I, um, put my arm round you?’
‘Of course, there’s no need to ask.’
His mouth tightens. ‘Only there is, isn’t there?’
Suddenly all the careful avoidance of physical contact makes sense. I snap, ‘No, there isn’t. I’m not frigid.’
Tony tries not to smile and fails miserably. ‘Nah, you’re definitely not that.’ His face becomes earnest. ‘But it’s gone wrong a couple of times now, hasn’t it? Me touching you and it going nought to sixty in like two seconds, then it being too much and you sprinting off.’
I chew at my lip and nod.
He leans in towards me until our foreheads almost touch. ‘And it’s been killing me, holding off from you the last couple of weeks, trying to give you space. So I hopes you don’t mind, but I had a session with my psych guy first thing, and I asked him ’bout you. Well, ’bout us.’
I can’t believe he’d do that. After how angry he was when I spoke to Chrissie, it sounds like he might have shared with Martin, our sports psychologist, the most personal, humiliating thing I’ve ever told anyone. To make it worse, Martin’s one of Gavin’s cronies. The shock and the disappointment must show, because Tony goes to take my hand, then pulls his away.
‘Genie, beauty, don’t look like that.’
‘Please tell me you didn’t tell Martin what I said?’ I ask, unable to process why he can’t see the issue.
‘No, course not. I’d never talk to no one at the club ’bout anything private that came from you. I, um…’ He looks at his fingernails. ‘I, um, have this, like, I guess you’d call him a counsellor, that I’ve seen off and on for a few years. Not cos I’m crazy or nothing, just when stuff’s building up…’
Well, now I feel awful. This is what I’m supposed to be good at, sensing how people feel, what they need. And Tony’s the person I want to do that for most in the world. So why do I keep rushing to think the worst of him, when all he does is prove me wrong?
I take his hand and squeeze gently. ‘That sounds like a really good idea.’
He nods, still looking shamefaced. ‘Yeah, well, I let it slip a bit last season, so I’m getting back into it now. Trying to keep things level, you know?’
I nod, earnestly. ‘The ups and downs have to be hard.’
He shrugs. ‘Yeah, but I’m not here to talk ’bout me. What I told Daniel, the bloke I do the sessions with, it weren’t the stuff you asked me not to tell no one, the sex stuff, promise.’
I tighten my fingers around his. ‘You could’ve done.’
‘Nah, I couldn’t, cos I said I wouldn’t. But I mentioned that thing you said, ’bout how having watched me play, and how you had come to feel like you knew me through that, but the reality of being with me isn’t quite the same?’
Tony’s face is still close to mine. On one level that’s nice. But it’s hard, having this conversation when he’s so near, I can smell the product in his hair and the faint hint of citrus from his aftershave. He must pick up on that, because he sits back but keeps his hand in mine, and this time, it’s him squeezing my fingers.
‘I didn’t quite get it, but he got me to see how it would be weird. Have I remembered right what you said?’
It is right, or almost. Close enough anyway, that I don’t have to say it’s not just that Tony’s nicer than I’d imagined, or that he’s more vulnerable. On top of that, I’ve spent so much time fantasizing about touching him, his body’s both familiar and foreign at the same time.
I nod.
‘Once he got that through to me, I could see how that’d freak you out. ’Specially if the person you was with before was pretending they cared when they was really standing back from you, judging when you was trying to be intimate with them.’
That is right, so right that I can’t look at him any more. I twist away, staring at the flames of the log burner, reflected in the dark of the window. Tony waits for a minute or two. ‘Don’t go getting upset, cos we’re going to sort it, aren’t we?’ He pushes his fingers into my palm. ‘Promise, OK?’
My laugh is watery, but I can look back at him and smile. ‘OK.’
He grins. ‘That’s better. The only downside is Daniel reckons the fastest way to fix it is to cool it, physically. Let you get to know the real Tony, ’stead of Tony Garratt, star midfielder. So I reckon it’s best if, till we get you feeling safe, I ask before I touch. How’s that sound?’
It sounds like an unnecessary delay when I’m fizzing with desire, to the point where I can barely sit still. I lower my voice, aiming for seductive and I think making a reasonable job of it. ‘Do I have to ask before I touch you?’
He grins. ‘No, you can wrap yourself round me as much as you like.’
‘And can I ask you to touch me?’
‘Yeah, course.’
I smile slowly. ‘Then I can see it has potential.’
Tony laughs, my favourite roaring laugh. ‘It does, don’t it? And to think I weren’t the one to see it.’ He leans back from me. ‘But I think we ought to put that on ice for now. Until you feel more comfortable with this. What do you reckon?’
‘Yes, absolutely, of course,’ I say, biting down the disappointment.
Tony drops his chin and looks at me with narrowed eyes. ‘Then why are you doing that thing where you yank at stuff?’
He’s right, my hand is on the string of my hoodie.
‘Come on, what is it?’ he asks, taking my hand and drawing it down onto the sofa.
I pull at his fingers, then decide we’re past the point where I gloss over things that need to be said. ‘Don’t you think you might, well, get bored?’
‘Tonight, I reckon a bit of a cuddle’s all I’m good for.’
He turns to look at me full on, his face end-of-the-season, critical-three-points serious. ‘I have to tell you, Genie, you and the pup running up to me tonight, that was like I was coming home. And I dunno if I can remember the last time I felt that way.’
I want to tie myself in knots around him but I settle for looking down at his fingers interlaced with mine. ‘It’s lovely, you saying that…’
‘What’s with them big sad eyes, then?’
‘It’s just I think it might make me feel more self-conscious, having to have a full-scale negotiation, every time you touch me. Sorry.’
He smiles. ‘Nah, you telling me that straight is you holding up your side of the deal. How ’bout we adjust it a bit? I’ll check any time I’m not sure, but if I reckon you’ll be good with something, I’ll do it. Only you’ve got to tell me the second I get that wrong. All right?’
‘Yep. Perfect.’
And it is. We watch TV, and as the second episode cues up, I lift my feet onto the sofa, snuggling back against Tony.
He rests a hand lightly on my navel and murmurs, ‘OK?’
I draw his hand under my top to the curve of my stomach. The warmth of his fingers melts into my skin. ‘This is better.’
‘Yeah, beauty, you’re right, way better.’