I figured this was because although the majority of rugby players were on the intelligent side, their nerve endings were generally numbed with the alcohol from the night before or from the prospect of more alcohol after.
“You get used to it after a while,” I said. “And the worst I’ve seen was a broken arm. That was Callum and he’d gone in for a stupid tackle.”
“That doesn’t make me feel any better,” Victoria said. “Although I do find it hot watching Max run around in those shorts and when he’s that little bit sweaty after…”
“Please tell me you’ve never gone at it in those changing rooms?” Claire said.
She was surprisingly not hungover and in a very good mood. Eliza was in her buggy, wrapped up in a blanket and a cute coat that had a hood with bunny ears. She was fast asleep at the moment, despite the shouting and calling from the game.
“I can tell you that if you want, but I’d be lying,” Victoria said. “I can also give you details?”
“No,” Claire said. “Not in front of the baby. Or me. I heard enough about Max’s sex skills when I was a teenager.”
Victoria laughed. “He’s improved since then. A lot.” Her eyes looked worryingly glazed and I didn’t wonder about where her thoughts had gone.
There was another loud shout, then a pause in the game while a scrum was organised. This was the part I’d never understood – not that I’d tried to understand much – where several of the players got into a huddle to get the ball. It seemed like a great excuse to get up close and very personal with each other, which was great if you were that way inclined. I watched as the scrum broke apart and Eli started to sprint. He was fast, especially for a tall man and I had to bite my lips together to stop myself from gasping.
Matty Bernard shouted Eli’s name and a ball was passed. Eli carried on running, looking to score a try and dodging a couple of the opposition on the way. I heard a yell and a couple of shouts and Eli was on the floor just over the line, the referee signalling to show a try had been scored.
I watched as the opposition player who had been trying to tackle Eli got up, but Eli didn’t.
I waited, but he still didn’t move.
Then his movements were slow and stiff as he sat up and held his ankle. I watched, knowing I couldn’t exactly go onto the pitch and help him – I’d attended enough rugby games to know that.
The girls were silent. Everyone was watching. Maxwell had gone over to Eli and was crouching down, speaking to him. Eli shook his head.
Killian and Nick went over too, the other players lingering nearby and watching. Then I saw Killian and Max lift Eli between them, Eli’s arms around their shoulders, one leg lifted and hopping on the other.
“Fuck,” I said. “I need to go.”
Claire nodded. “Whose car are you in?’
“Eli’s,” I said. “I think I’ll be driving it though.”
“I’ll come with you,” Payton said. “I’m assuming you’re going to be off to the hospital?”
I’d started to walk over to the changing rooms. “I’ll phone you, Payts,” I said. “I have no idea.”
The changing rooms smelled of sweat and mud and usually I’d make some comment but right now anything besides Eli was irrelevant.
“Fucking ankle,” I heard him say. “Weakest fucking part of me.”
I stood and watched as Killian looked at Eli’s leg. The rugby boot was off, as was his sock and I could already see that swelling was starting.
“Think you’re missing Sunday lunch,” Killian said. “Hospital job, I’m afraid. But we do have some spare crutches to help you shift.”
Eli nodded. “I know the score.”
“You’ve done this before?” I said, stepping closer to him and trying to conceal my panic and worry because I knew it wasn’t going to help at all.
He turned his head to see me and smiled. “Once. Broke the fucker when I was at university. I’m seriously hoping this isn’t a break.”
Killian snorted. “You’ll be fucking lucky.”
Eli shook his head. “Time to go to accident and emergency.” He looked at me. “You don’t have to take me.”
“Car keys.”
