The first day of the season meant new kit. Nate gave each of the girls a home shirt with Morris on the back, and passed one to Amber too, her face lighting up when she saw it.
His eyes twinkled when he didn’t give me one, the feeling of being left out making me angsty.
“Didn’t think there was much point me getting you one.” My brother grinned at me and then glanced at Jesse. “Thought you might prefer a different name this season.”
I looked at Jesse, who was sitting at the breakfast bar with a huge smoothie, recipe by Neva. He was grinning, a touch of shyness about his expression.
“Nate, just pass her the damn shirt.” He shook his head at my brother.
Nate stood up and gave me a bag from the club shop. I opened it with my heart dancing a jig and found a shirt in my size, Sullivan across the back. I held it up, hearing Amber laugh.
“Going to feel a bit weird, seeing you with my teammate’s name on your shirt,” Nate grumbled, glancing between me and Jesse. “I’ll always have a Morris one for her if you fuck up, Sullivan.”
“I’m not going to fuck up.” Jesse’s eyes stayed on me as I pulled the shirt on over my T-shirt, turning around to show him the back.
I just hoped I could make the same promise.
I didn’t think about the threats I’d received, lulled into what was a false sense of security because my parents were there and the weather was perfect. Athletic was playing a team that had finished mid-table last year and would probably do the same this season too, meaning that they wouldn’t be worried about a relegation battle or trying to get momentum to push for a spot at the top of the table.
We travelled to the ground separately. Nate and Jesse, along with Jude and Nicky, who’d turned up at some point during the morning, went together; my parents drove Amber and the girls in my dad’s car, leaving me to drive myself. I took the car Jesse had bought, missing him not being in it but knowing that I’d be giving him a lift home later.
We’d planned to have dinner together at his, a takeout from the Chinese we always used, the meal already ordered for a certain time. I was staying over the second night running, which we’d both said this morning, after breaking his sink, was a sign that this was getting a little more than just having fun.
There was a lounge for the family of players, a side room that was usually full of booze and WAGs, and a bigger room that was more family orientated. The club employed a couple of children’s entertainers, and the woman who at some point had looked after most of the players’ kids was there every home game to help look after any children who were bored.
I usually sat in the family room with my nieces. It was where I had been for most of last season, taking the place of their mum and trying to help make a routine. It had been hard for the girls, especially when Nate had away games and he wouldn’t be home for a couple of days. For the next six or seven years, they would have the ebb and flow of the season, so this was how they were going to spend a good part of their childhood.
For some reason, during the drive to the ground, my thoughts were on the threats that had come through. They’d been crude, telling me what the author would like to do to me, and it wasn’t pretty. They also described exactly where these would take place too, in enough detail to know that they were local, they knew the area, and they knew the grounds.
I parked up in the secure area, recognising Keegan, one of the parking attendants. He’d started with the club last season, just before Christmas, and he’d always made a point of helping with the girls when I had them with me, which had been useful during my battles with car seats, especially when I’d needed to swap them from my car to Nate’s or my parents’.
“How’s it going, Jez?” He smiled at me as I got out of the car.
I nodded, smiling back. He was about nineteen and obsessed with everything Manchester Athletic. “Good. How are you? Have you had a good summer?”
“I got a job with the grounds team here. An apprenticeship so I learn about the pitch and the maintenance.” He was clearly ecstatic about this. “So I’m properly working for the club now. This is my last match doing this, as I’ll need to be on the pitch at half time.”
“Congrats. That’s amazing news.” I was genuinely pleased for him, just a little surprised as he walked with me to the doors of the stadium. “I’m sad you won’t be here on match days, though.”
“I will be. I’ll just be doing a different job.” His expression changed. “I’m not being weird, walking you to the door. Genevieve asked me to make sure you got here okay. Following orders.” He gave me a salute.
“Oh, thank you.” My heart rate had started racing already, the change in his usual routine making me paranoid. Was the person who’d been sending me threats Keegan? He knew enough about the stadium and the alley next to Kitty’s Café. He knew what cars I drove.
Maybe Genny was right and I needed to report it to the police, and tell Jesse and Nate. The police probably wouldn’t be able to do much, but we could look at a private investigator. And security. Nate would want security.
So would Jesse.
“Enjoy the game, Jez! Everything crossed for a win.” Keegan beamed at me and then headed back to where he was usually stationed.
I exhaled, feeling stupid for suspecting him, and went inside the stadium, seeing the match day staff for the first time since the season ended in May.
It was different, watching Jesse warm up on the pitch as well as Nate. Amber was happier to wait inside today, as were my parents, since the seats were comfier and they were showing the game on TVs in the family room, which meant I didn’t have to feel guilty about leaving Libbie and Zara with Megs and the entertainers.
The warm-up routine hadn’t changed, a few of the players having exactly the same one each game as they were superstitious and wouldn’t change what they did until there was an unlucky loss.
Last season, I’d watched Jesse a lot, spending far more time with my eyes on him than my brother. Jesse was our target man, the player the rest of the team tried to get the ball to, knowing that when he had it at his feet, he could create magic.
I knew only too well how much magic he could create off the pitch.
