“Thanks for seeing me here.”
Emily’s eyes were like saucers. She’d been waiting for the legal team at the local authority to get back to us about temporary legal guardianship for Toby, given that Joanne hadn’t come home, and we finally had a response. My solicitor had been working with them, mainly trying to speed up the process, and this morning there’d been an answer. Emily wanted to go through the decision with me, although we knew I had permission from the court to apply for a special guardianship order, she’d asked to meet me after morning training.
We were in the players’ reception, a luxurious lounge designed to woo the world’s best to the club if the paycheque wasn’t enough, and I’d never really adjusted to it. It was masculine, blacks and dark greys which were intermingled with gold, sofas with strong lines and a lack of unnecessary soft furnishings. Staff would mingle discreetly, topping up coffee, providing healthy snacks and a chef was usually on call in case someone felt peckish.
“I’ve never been in here before.”
Neither had most of Manchester, and if truth be told, I’d rather have met Emily somewhere else. I just hoped that she wouldn’t gossip afterwards, not that there would be much to gossip about, not here.
“I don’t come in here often. We tend to just use the entrance to the training facilities.” Most players did the same, from both the men’s and women’s squads. This was for show and the big names, until they settled in.
The men’s team was growing in success since the new owners had taken over. They were pumping money into the team and the facilities, as well as the local area. The women’s team, my team, had received a lot of investment too. The profile of women’s football was increasing; it was now televised more widely and attendances to the games had increased. Women, like me, were now professionals in the sport, rather than part-timers, and I was appreciative of what Rory Baines had brought.
This, though, was still a world away from mine. Emily’s too, by the look on her face. I led her through the reception to a meeting room that had been booked for us, a jug of coffee and tea on the table in the centre. Usually, there would’ve been just coffee, given that was the life blood of most people who worked here, but whoever had organised this today knew me.
“Will any of the men’s team be around?” Emily looked around the room as if Ryan O’Connell was about to appear out of a wall.
I shook my head and poured a mug of tea. “They finish training about one, usually. Some of them have programmes they're working on, or they have other business to sort out, photoshoots for endorsements or interviews, and others have families. There might be someone knocking around, but it’s not guaranteed.”
It wasn’t guaranteed that I’d see Rowan any time soon, either. I hadn’t heard from him or ran into him, since our kiss.
A kiss I’d tried not to think about, at least, I’d tried not to think about it more than once a day, or maybe twice. It had become the stuff of fantasies, and I was at the point where I wasn’t sure whether it had actually happened or not.
Rowan Reeves wouldn’t be interested in someone like me. I was the epitome of a tomboy who could dress up on occasion. I didn’t have the curves of women Rowan had been photographed with – because I had cyber stalked him – or the interest in how to contour my face or know which parties to go to. I could dress up and have fun and be all that, but Rowan needed someone who would get him into the glossy magazines, or be a WAG at the next World Cup – and that wasn’t me.
“Shame.” Emily did look disappointed. She helped herself to coffee, adding almost as much milk as coffee, and enough sugar to give Neva nightmares. “But good news on the courts.”
Her brightness seemed forced.
I braced myself. “What else do you need to tell me?”
She winced and kept on stirring her coffee. “One of my colleagues in Croydon managed to find your sister. That’s where she’s staying.”
“Is she okay?” Because when I eventually saw Joanne, she wouldn’t be okay. Not after I’d said all I had to.
Emily nodded. “She’s with her boyfriend, who – not going to lie – is known to the police, and she wasn’t co-operative.”
“What did she say?” I slumped back into my chair. I’d ended up being independent. My mother lived abroad and had another life really. My dad hadn’t been around for years. Joanne had needed a lot of support and checking on, and that had ended up being done by me. I managed myself, learning not to rely on anyone apart from myself, but right now, I could’ve done with someone in the seat next to me.
Emily didn’t smile. “That she deserved some time to herself and you can look after Tobias, or words to that effect.”
“Did they involve money?”
“That’s what my colleague said. Joanne said she hoped you realised how hard her life was now you had to look after him all the time. She signed the papers agreeing that you had temporary parental responsibility. That’s what’s got this through quicker than normal.” She let go of the breath she’d been holding. “I shouldn’t usually give you the details – your sister doesn’t want you to be in touch.”
“What about her son? Doesn’t she want to speak to him?” I got she was mad at me. I’d been harsh with her – but I didn’t regret that. It had needed to happen, but by doing so, I’d forced her hand. She was still Tobias’ mother though.
Emily shrugged. “Inconsistent parenting happens. Not everyone is able to be a stable parent because it’s hard, and maybe your sister has just reached her breaking point.”
“Or maybe she’s just not a very nice person.” It was a horrible thing to say, but not untrue. ‘So what happens now?”
“I should have my assessment complete in the next week. I don’t think it will go to child protection, but Tobias will have a social worker assigned as he’ll be under a special guardianship order. If he goes back to live with Joanne, then it can be reassessed.” She sipped at the coffee, which must’ve been fairly cold with all that milk.
“You won’t stay with him?” That would be a shame as Toby liked her. I’d heard about kids having different social workers every few months because of how the social care system was flawed, and I didn’t want that for him.
“I’m actually changing departments from the initial assessment team, so I will have a regular caseload. I’ll request to keep him if I can, but it doesn’t always work like that. He will be okay, you know. He has you.”
“And he has a mum who he doesn’t think wants him, and right now, he’s right. She doesn’t. If she just hops in and out of his life, that’s going to screw him up.” That was my fear. I’d had friends who had a parent who wasn’t always there, and I’d seen the damage it had caused them, how their self-esteem had been knocked.
