“He’s a jerk.” I did not like Rowan.
“He’s not that bad. There are worse.” She hugged the cushion. “He just doesn’t think sometimes.”
“That’s because his brain only focuses on two things: football and women.” I’d seen him in action at a bar in Alderley, the centre of attention – most of which was female. He always looked happy, which was no bad thing, and he obviously enjoyed being sociable. But that night he’d laughed at a girl who looked so out of place in the trendy bar, and she’d ran to the bathroom in tears after a comment he’d made. It had been cruel, even if he’d not meant for her to hear it.
I’d ended up in the bathrooms at the same time, hearing her cry about how she’d made a fool of herself, and how Rowan had been laughing at her. I’d sympathised with her, told her that all male footballers were arseholes, and then brought her a glass of wine to the bathrooms and found her friends.
There was probably another side to it. For all I knew, she was Rowan’s stalker, or she’d cheated on his best friend or something like that. It was all too easy to make a quick judgment, but the whole thing had added to the image I had of him already.
Genny nodded, then shrugged. “He’s okay, really. He won’t be a dick on this summer school. You probably won’t even have to speak to him.”
“Is this all to boost his image?”
“Pretty much. The weekend hasn’t done him or the club any favours.” She opened a drawer and rummaged round for what I knew would be chocolate. Genny had a sweet tooth, especially when she was stressed.
I didn’t know what had happened to Rowan at the weekend. I used a social media manager to post pictures on my Instagram and stayed off Twitter. When we were travelling to away matches, I read or played cards with my teammates, not getting drawn into the rabbit hole that was gossip and wannabe celebs who were posing weirdly and posting inspirational quotes that didn’t match their photos. I also stayed away from the news, picking up anything sports related at training and from gossip in the changing rooms.
I looked over at Ginny, half wishing she’d share the bar of Galaxy caramel with me, even though it wasn’t part of my plan.
“You want to know what it was, don’t you?” Her eyes narrowed with amusement. “You’re such a little gossip.”
“No. I just think I should know what he’s been up to. In case there are reporters at the training ground when we have the kids there.” Which was true. It was also true that I wanted to know what Rowan had been up to.
Genny laughed. “His ex did a kiss-and-tell to a tabloid and made him sound like the world’s worst boyfriend. She accused him of cheating, being generally shitty to her, all of that. He was then photographed shagging a woman on a sun lounger while he was on holiday last week. The photo was sold – because that’s a respectable way to make money nowadays. The two things together have not looked great.”
I shook my head, not quite believing what I was hearing. “How can one person be so stupid? It isn’t like he doesn’t get advice on how to…”
“He’s too trusting. He isn’t stupid, Dee, he just thinks everyone is genuine. Hence the bad choice in girlfriends.” She tapped her phone and frowned. “A bad choice that’s getting him blasted on social media.”
I snuggled into the chair. “You’re defending him. I think you have a crush…”
She turned pink. “I don’t do footballers.”
“But would you like to do this one? I can see why you like him… those thighs.” I wiggled my eyebrows. “So much power in them.”
Genny shook her head and looked at her phone. “No, no and thrice no. But I do know that most of what his ex said is bullshit, and Rowan’s agent has already got his solicitor on it. The photo from Mexico was unfortunate. He was single; they were consenting. Although he didn’t consent for the photo to be taken.” She sighed loudly. “It’s been taken down off most sites now, and as much as you can get rid of a photo, we have done. Busy day.”
“And it’ll only get busier.” I hated being the bearer of bad news. “Why don’t you escape this weekend. Get away before the season starts.” Because once it started, we wouldn’t be going anywhere unless it was an away match. There wouldn’t be time.
She closed her laptop and rested her chin on her hand, her elbow on her desk. “Because this weekend’s already spoken for.”
“What do you mean?”
Her eyes rolled impossibly high. “Guy wants an away weekend. Team bonding. Pitch the men’s squad against the women’s. Ryan O’Connell gets here this week and this is Guy’s version of rolling out the red carpet.”
I groaned. “When were we meant to find out about this?”
“Today. Shelly was going to phone round in another hour or so. The weekend was already in your diaries, you’re just all heading up to Scotland. With me, and about twenty others.” She stared at her nails, painted a deep shade of red.
Mine were painted a deep shade ofau naturale. I’d tried polishes and gels a couple of times, but no matter how I tried to be careful, I ended up with chips, breaks and nails that looked like a tortoise had chewed them. So I kept them short. Tidy. Polish-free.
Scotland meant we were heading to Glamis House, a resort owned by Rory Baines, who also owned the club. There was a large, stately hotel there by Loch Lomond, then a few miles along the banks was a golf resort, with a spa that had a variety of thermal suites, a hydrotherapy pool and treatment rooms. Near to that were self-contained apartments that were usually booked out by golfers or people grabbing a break away. We’d been there before as a group, usually for team building activities or conditioning coaching. But never at the same time as the men’s team.
“You’ll get a chance to use the spa.”
Genny nodded. “Hopefully. I think Guy wants us to mingle together. Are you okay to leave your sister for the weekend?”
Genny was one of the few people who knew that Joanne and Tobias were living with me. Having Joanne's drama known wouldn’t be helpful, and she’d mentioned a couple of time about me setting her up on dates with players from the men’s team.
