“Andy?” Rowan gave a look of surprise that was almost believable. “I thought she was called Deirdre.”
Toby giggled like it was the funniest thing he'd ever heard. “She's my auntie; she's not called Andy, she's called Dee.”
“Are you sure? I think she looks like an Andy.” Rowan squinted at Toby, and Toby laughed again.
I watched the two of them in between explaining to Dino the abbreviated version of what had happened, only the abbreviated version contained a story about how my sister had to stay away to help a friend who had an emergency, rather than the fact that she was being neglectful of her child.
Dino didn't question it, he simply said it was no problem, then waited for Rowan to stand back up again. “Ro, can you take Toby in your group?”
“Sure.”
I waited for Rowan to make some form of comment, but none came. He just passed Toby a football and asked him to go and help set up. I watched them both, surprised to see this man who'd been in the papers for all the wrong reasons being so kind to a little kid he'd only just met. And what was more, it was a kid who was connected to someone - me - that he clearly wasn't too keen on.
“He'll be alright with Rowan,” Dino said, sounding like he was reading my mind. “Rowan's group and yours have got the younger players, so if he wants to join in a bit there won't be too much of a size difference, and I figured you wouldn't mind a bit of time not having to look after him.”
I wasn't sure what to say apart from thank you, so that was it before I headed off to go and help set up the activities for the first part of the day.
The kids repeated their warm ups from the day before, still giggling when they got to the ridiculous moves I'd somehow managed to incorporate and get them to do. I kept glancing over at what Toby was doing and each time I looked up he was standing near Rowan, or next to Rowan, helping demonstrate some of the moves.
This morning was being spent practising drills, trying to teach the children some basics that they'd be able to practise in their backyard or the street in front of their house. It also gave the coaches a chance to see if there were any children who stood out, and would benefit from regular weekly practises at the club’s academy. I should have been trying to spot them myself, particularly if any of the girls showed raw talent that we could work with, but my attention was too often sapped away by Rowan, although if anybody caught me staring I'd simply say I was watching what my nephew was doing.
Anyone with a pair of eyes would notice how Rowan was built. They would notice his thick dark hair, that stubble that I doubted ever really went away and those thighs. Thick, well defined, muscular thighs. There were Instagram accounts dedicated to them, and one of my teammates had once mentioned that there had even been a petition to the company that manufactured the club shorts to make sure Rowan's shorts were a couple of inches shorter.
I ignored it. I ignored the fact that I clearly found him attractive. And I told myself that I was only looking over to make sure that Toby was okay, which was true. Toby was more than okay, even if he was the youngest kid there. He was pretty much fully participating, and for a boy who told me more times than I could remember that he didn't like football, he looked like he was enjoying it very much right now.
At lunch a hot dog van appeared in the car park, and nearly fifty children queued up to grab one, quite a few of them covering themselves in ketchup and mustard. I didn't worry about having to look after Toby because he'd found a friend, a boy called Billy, who seemed to have taken on a bit of a big brother role, and there were plenty of eyes on him anyway. Toby was a really good kid; he seemed to have learned early on that he couldn't rely on his mother for all of her attention, so he'd sought it elsewhere. Luckily, he didn't use negative behaviours to get that attention, preferring to try and please people instead. He was doing well at school, he made friends fairly easily and he tried hard. His big smile seemed to have worked with most of the coaches, and I was pretty confident that he was safe here. Not that it meant I was taking my eyes off him any time soon.
I sat down on a bench, needing a little bit of space and the opportunity to check my phone to see if Joanne had gotten back in touch. I'd kept my phone in my bag all morning, knowing it was unlikely that Joanne would even be awake yet if she'd had a heavy night the night before. There were several messages: one from my agent, letting me know that she'd almost gotten the final details on a contract with an underwear brand that was looking to use sports women to promote its goods; a couple from Izzy, one telling me that she definitely ended it properly with the ex; and one from Genevieve, letting me know she was popping by this afternoon to watch the coaching. Her text ended with just one word: Rowan, followed by a question mark.
I didn't respond. Nor did I send another message to my sister. She wouldn't be panicking about what Toby was doing, mainly because she knew there was no way in hell I'd let anything happen to him, and that I was also a complete mug.
This had to stop. It was the women’s World Cup next year, and there was a good chance I was going to get called up for the squad if I could replicate the form I'd shown last season. I had more commitments, because I'd picked up more sponsorships and I also had a higher profile with the club. Enough in the evening and not coming back, leaving me with a five-year-old and no form of childcare setup was just not going to be doable the further we got into the season. I knew what Genevieve would say, she’d tell me to tell Joanne to move out, which meant she wouldn't have a live-in babysitter that she could foist her child on anytime she wished. But that meant letting Toby down.
I couldn't let Toby down. Not when his mother did it so regularly.
I felt Rowan's presence before I saw him; whole particles in the air seemed to shift as if they needed to create room to allow the size of his ego to fit. He'd surprise me today, being so good and inclusive of Toby. I knew he was only here to try and plaster the cracks over his damaged image, but I could tell he was enjoying working with the kids, and he seemed quite passionate about it, too. If I was interested I'd ask Genevieve about him, maybe understand what made him tick a little bit more, but that would mean actually being interested in him. Which I wasn't.
“Everything okay?”
He sat down next to me, spreading his legs as if there was no way his precious man balls could ever fit into any smaller space.
I braced myself for the needling that I knew was sure to begin. I had the distinct feeling that Rowan disliked me as much as I disliked him.
“What can I do for you?” I didn't bother making eye contact.
“I just wanted to say that the kid you brought has done really well this morning. I thought you might like to know that.” He sat further back and folded his arms, and I was vaguely aware of some of the biggest biceps that I thought were allowed in football.
And that thought alone told me I should definitely not look at his thighs.
“Thank you. I appreciate how you got him involved; he's not the greatest fan of football.” I put my phone down and gave him a quick glance, not letting my gaze linger.
“He seemed to enjoy it well enough this morning. I know he'll have watched you play, but has he been to see the men's team?”
I could feel Rowan's eyes on me, on the small bubble of annoyance that threatened to pop. “Are you suggesting that he just doesn't like women's football?”
I could tell Rowan shrugged from the movement of his shoulders creating an almost seismic shift in the air. “That's the way you're going to take it, so I may as well say yes. But what I meant was maybe he just doesn't associate football as a boy sport. How do you know him anyway?”
“He's my nephew.” I didn't want to go into details with Rowan Reeves about my family. I tried to keep it completely separate from my career. In fact, it was only really Genevieve who knew the details about my sister and how she lived with me.
