“Honestly, I was thinking of how much I’d like to get back on the football field,” Ada said with a rueful smile.
“We will soon enough,” Emmaline said with confidence. “Just have to find a few more women to agree to play, and then we can get another practice and match together.”
Ada nodded, although she knew it was a difficult prospect with so many women uncertain about playing a sport when they had been told for so long to have nothing to do with it.
She returned her attention to the field, catching motion out of the corner of her eye. Wait — was that person pointing at her?
She looked around, becoming more observant of her surroundings. Come to think of it, that wasn’t the only person who had attention on her.
“Emmaline,” she said. “Are people staring at me?”
Emmaline looked around. “Of course not…” she trailed off. “Actually, maybe a bit.”
“Why?”
“I have no idea.”
Ada’s heart picked up its pace slightly.
“It’s nothing,” Emmaline said firmly. “Absolutely nothing. You’ve done nothing wrong, so whatever it is, it’s just rumors. We’ll figure it out after the game.”
Ada nodded, although she wasn’t quite as certain as her friend.
But Emmaline was right. There was nothing she could do now, nor was there anything she could say to protest.
Ada tried to focus on the match, her gaze following Jonny's powerful strides as he chased down the ball, but the prickling sensation of eyes on her made it nearly impossible to concentrate. The Liverpool team was putting up a fierce fight, their forwards dancing around the Central defenders. The score was tied 1-1 with only minutes left on the clock.
Suddenly, Colin broke free with the ball at his feet. He charged toward the goal, Liverpool’s defense scrambling to catch up. The crowd surged to their feet as he wound up for the shot and— Goal! Manchester Central had scored in the final seconds, stealing the victory 2-1. Their supporters erupted into cheers while the few Liverpool fans who had made the trek groaned at the loss.
Ada barely registered the win, her mind still spinning with the strange attention fixed on her. As the stands began to clear out, she turned to Emmaline.
"I need to get out of here," she said urgently. "People are talking about me. I can feel it."
Emmaline frowned in concern. "I’d say let them talk all they want, but I suppose we should figure out what has them so intrigued. Let’s go. Lily, Minnie, are you coming?"
The four women gathered their things and hurried toward the exit, Ada keeping her head down. But she couldn't block out the snatches of conversation swirling around her.
"...her father was thick as thieves with Blackwood, I heard..."
"...wouldn't be surprised if she's taken up the family business..."
"...always thought there was something off about that one..."
Hot tears pricked at the corners of Ada's eyes. She didn’t know how it had happened, but somehow her name had been sullied. Had Sharpe done something? Or Will? Or— no. Jonny wouldn’t do that to her… would he?
They all thought she was just like her father, that she was involved in the criminal enterprise when she was the one in her family who had been tasked to take them out of it, who wanted nothing to do with any of it and had, in fact, always hated that her father had done this to them. The injustice of it all made her want to scream.
As they walked in the weak afternoon sunlight, Ada took a gulp of fresh air, trying to steady herself. Emmaline laid a comforting hand on her arm.
"Don't listen to them," she said fiercely, apparently having heard the mutterings herself. At least Ada didn’t feel like she was going mad anymore. "They don't know anything. We'll get to the bottom of this, I promise."
Ada managed a grateful nod, but inside she was reeling. What had she done to deserve this? And more importantly...what was she going to do now?
Jonny frowned as he watched Ada and her friends beat a hasty retreat from the stands. Something was wrong; that much was clear. He'd noticed the pointing and whispering too, seen the stricken look on Ada's face.
As he made his way toward the changing rooms, heoverheard a knot of men talking in low, conspiratorial tones. Jonny slowed his pace, straining to listen.
"...Jones girl, up to her neck in it, or so I hear," one man was saying.
