The receptionist at Purgatory answers my call, and after introducing myself, she informs me that they do indeed offer tours for potential members. We agree to a tour tomorrow.
As we disconnect, Victoria smiles mischievously. "Well, darling, looks like we have ourselves an adventure."
“Well, before any of that, I have plans for us today.” I wink at her and look down at her shoes. “Have you brought trainers or boots?” I frown, picturing her trying to stand on grassy sidelines in those heels.
“You know I don’t go anywhere without at least four-inch heels. Anything that requires hideous trainers or wellies is not my scene.” She slumps back, bringing her feet up onto the sofa cushions, her heels scattered on the floor.
Yes, Miss
“Not even thirty muddy, sweaty men, running around, full of aggression and grunting away?”
“Isabelle, you sound as though you’re up to something. Spill and I may just possibly wear your nice sequin Converse trainers.”
“James has a charity rugby match for a local hospice today. I thought it would be nice to go and support a local charity.”
“My ass you did!” she laughs. “I want to support the charity,” she says in a high-pitched mocking voice. “No, Isabelle, you wanted to go perv on James looking glorious and sweaty. What time does it start?” she sighs, looking exasperated.
“In about an hour,” I say, laughing at how well she can see right through me. “Local playing fields.”
“Go get me your Converse!” she huffs as we make our way upstairs to get ready.
Alexandra Ravensbrook
Chapter 9
James
“Right, guys, it's not the Six Nations, but I’ll be damned if those fuckers from St. Mary’s are gonna beat us.” Phil tries to chivvy us along, but half the team are nursing hangovers from hell, and the rest of us are closer to forty than we’d like to admit.
The damp changing rooms smell like musty gym bags, with dim fluorescent light bulbs flickering overhead. I stand, patting him on his back and turning to address the rest of the team.
“Guys, our nans, our friends, our neighbours, could be in that hospice, and they need money to keep doing the amazing work they do every day. So, let’s put on a good show, and we’ll go round with the donation buckets after the match. If we win, the first round is on Phil.” I quickly
Yes, Miss
duck away, laughing as Phil tries to cuff me round the head in retaliation.
We jog onto the field, and I’m taken aback by the size of the crowd. The hospice must have really gone to town with sharing the event on their socials.
As captain, Phil shakes hands with the other team’s captain, the coin toss deciding it’s St. Mary’s to start. Their captain takes the ball as we all find our places, and his drop kick sends the ball flying upfield towards our posts. As a defensive player, I’m running, trying to block their advance when my sight is drawn to a beautiful woman.
She is chatting away with a short, petite woman who looks like she stepped out of a vintage film, and I realise it’s Isabelle and a friend of hers. They're laughing, clutching take away coffee cups, and Isabelle looks stunning.
Her hair flows down over her shoulders covered by her hoodie, her jeans fitting tight over her hips, but the most noticeable thing is her smile. It’s simply radiant.
I’m snapped away from watching Isabelle as an opposing player knocks me into the ground, the ball flying overhead as their team scores a try but fails to add more points with their conversion attempt.
“Bit fucking rough that, mate!” I shout at the St. Mary’s player as he helps me up.
Alexandra Ravensbrook
“Eyes on the game, not the pussy!” he laughs, running back to the centre to start the next play.
Half-time couldn’t come sooner. We’re all shattered, but we’re only two down, so we can pull it back. I brush clumps of mud off my shorts as I stand at the sidelines, grabbing my bottle off the side.
A familiar woman’s voice grabs my attention. “You’re going to be sore tomorrow.”
I whip around to see Isabelle and her friend. My stomach flips, and I’m an awkward teenage boy again.
