56
The train hummed like a lullaby for giants.
Rows of battered bodies filled the carriage, large knees stretched into aisles, heads tipped back against windows, mouths slack with the kind of sleep that only comes after intense exertion.
Jackets were draped over faces and earbuds dangled uselessly.
Somewhere, Jack snored with theatrical commitment.
Claire sat two rows behind Coach Reynolds, legs tucked neatly, tablet balanced on her knee as she reviewed post-match notes. Ice schedules. Swelling. Travel meds. Her body ached in sympathetic memory of every collision she’d witnessed.
Across the aisle, Tania’s voice sharpened.
“Yes– no, I understand that it’s championship week,” she said into her phone, brows knitting. “But we booked twelve months ago. We have confirmation –”
A pause.
Her expression shifted.
“Every hotel?” she repeated. “In all of London?”
Coach Reynolds stirred. Assistant Coach Tama leaned closer.
Tania covered the receiver. “They double-booked. And apparently so did everyone else in the city. Fans came in early. There isn’t a single block available within fifty miles.”
Reynolds swore under his breath. “We’re the reason they’re here.”
“That’s the irony,” Tania said flatly.
Tama rubbed his chin. “Luck has a sister in London, yeah? Maybe some of the boys can bunk there. We can split the team.”
Liam, half asleep with his hood over his eyes, blinked. “She lives in a flat, mate. Two bedrooms. With kids. Unless you want us stacked like sardines, it’s not happening.”
A few of the boys chuckled weakly.
Silence followed. The kind that came with logistics failing in real time.
Claire closed her tablet slowly.
“There’s… another option,” she said.
Heads turned.
“My parents have an estate just outside London,” she continued, voice steady. “Plenty of land. Guest wings. It’s quiet. Private.”
Reynolds studied her. “Would they be open to hosting a rugby team?”
“They host political donors and charity galas,” she said. “We would probably be less clean than most of them, but it’ll be ok.”
Miko lifted his head from the seat in front of him. “Wow. Speak for yourself.”
A beat.
“The only problem,” Kelsey added thoughtfully, “is that Suzanne’s remodeling.”
Claire frowned. “My mother is what?”
“Remodeling,” Kelsey squinted at her. “You didn’t know?”
“No.”
“Oh.” He shrugged. “She texted me last week. Something about Italian marble and a contractor named Paolo who keeps disappearing.”
The carriage erupted, Jack coming back to.
“Why does Kelsey know this?” Toby demanded.
“Because,” Kelsey said proudly, “Suzanne and I are best friends. Soulmates actually.”
Claire stared at him. “My mother sends you renovation updates.”
“She sends me pictures.”
Coach Reynolds exhaled slowly, fighting a smile. “Are there any rooms left?”
Kelsey took out his phone to review the message from Claire’s mother. “Renovations in the west corridor. So that means that the main house is also untouched. The east corridor are where the office and staff rooms are.”
Claire dropped her head into her hands. “She does this. She remodels at least once every 3 years.”
Tama chuckled. “Sounds perfect for a rugby team.”
Reynolds nodded. “If your parents are willing, Dr. Ashford… it may be our only option.”
Claire lifted her head, resigned and amused in equal measure.
“I’ll call them,” she said. “I can tell you now though, it might be a tight fit if only the main rooms are available.”
The bus slowed long before it stopped.
Gravel crunched beneath tires. Iron gates swept open in silent arcs. Beyond them, the world widened into something out of a postcard with rolling green lawns, ancient oaks, and a long, pale drive curving toward a manor that looked less like a home and more like history.
The boys pressed toward the windows.
“Is that a castle?” Toby murmured.
“It’s a house,” Claire said faintly. “Technically.”
“What are you doing with this asshole, Doc?” Miko gestured to Noah.
Tania’s mouth was agape. “You’re like a real-life princess.”
Stone rose in clean, elegant lines, warm honeyed brick, tall windows, ivy just beginning to creep back after winter. To one side, scaffolding hugged a wing of the building, tarps fluttering in the breeze. The rest stood immaculate.
The bus came to a halt.
And waiting for them–
A line of staff in crisp uniforms, standing at attention like a ceremonial guard. Porters. Housekeepers. A groundskeeper with a cap tucked under his arm. All poised, all ready.
At the center stood Mrs. Suzanne Ashford in all her glory.
She wore a tailored coat in soft cream, hair swept into perfect order, and her posture immaculate. She looked every inch the woman who hosted diplomats and donors, until her eyes found… Kelsey.
Then her face broke into something warm and unmistakably maternal.
“My darling boy,” she said, opening her arms.
Kelsey stepped down first, suddenly transported to what felt like home to him.
“Hi Suzy,” said Kelsey, “I have missed you so much.” They hugged as if he was her own child. Filled with love and support.
Claire debarked the bus right to her mother.
“Hi mummy,” she said, hugging her mum and placing kisses on each cheek.
“Claire Bear, my baby.” Suzanne didn’t let go of her daughter's hand.
Behind her, the team stared.
Suzanne’s gaze swept over the towering athletes, dried bloodied noses, broad shoulders, duffel bags slung like weapons. Noah walked straight up to her and kissed each cheek with a greeting.
“Hello, Noah, my love,” she said to him.
And then she smiled.
“Welcome,” she said to the group. “You must be exhausted. Let’s get you settled.”
The great hall became a command center.
Tania stood at the long mahogany table with her tablet open. Coach Reynolds leaned beside her; jacket slung over one shoulder. Claire hovered nearby, translating luxury into logistics.
“Coaches get their own rooms,” Tania said. “Staff doubles. Players, we’re bunking by numbers– mix the big lads so no one ends up crushed in their sleep.”
Groans rippled.
“Builds character,” Tama added dryly.
Names were called. Keys distributed. House staff whisked duffels away with military precision.
Reynolds coughed into his hand behind Claire. “Dr. Ashford, you’ll be with Tania.”
Tania blinked. “I put us together.” Then eyes lit up with excitement.
The girls looked at each other.
“Sleepover!” they say at the same time with giggles and laughter.
What Claire didn't notice was that Kelsey vanished.
Claire realized it a full thirty seconds too late. She bolted up the grand staircase.
“No–”
Too late.
He reappeared at the top of the staircase, already unzipping his bag within the room behind a familiar door.
“This one’s mine,” he announced.
“That’s my bedroom,” Claire said.
“Was,” he corrected. “Not to be dramatic, Doc, but if I don’t have this room, my REM sleep will be all off and then I’ll be overly tired, and then we might lose the championship.”
“Not dramatic, huh?” Claire murmured.
“Sorry, Doc,” Toby said to Claire from inside the room. “He said this was our room.”
Inside, he’d already placed a framed photo on the dresser of him, Suzanne, and Cornelius at Christmas, all three mid-laugh.
“He travels with that?” Toby whispered, unpacking his bag.
“I just wanted to spiff up the place,” Kelsey replied.
Claire stared. “You are not moving in.”
“Too late, Doc. Accept it.”