The rest of the morning and Nate’s session went well, which was as I expected. Nate didn’t really need me to tell him how to plan his food; he was one of the most experienced players in the squad and he knew what worked for him and what didn’t. What he was having to get used to was a slight change of diet because of wear and tear and age. Goalkeepers generally peaked in their mid-thirties, which Nate was, his experience and ability to read the game making him the best in the league and England’s first choice. He wanted to keep it that way, having no desire to retire like Rowan.
Jude was waiting for me at a table towards the back of Kitty’s Café, a green smoothie in front of him and a mug of tea. He had a tablet on the table, and was using a stylus to write something on it, pausing to look up at me as soon as I entered, as if he had some sixth sense to know I was there.
“Kitty’s got your favourite smoothie ready.” The words rushed out of his mouth. “I texted her before to let her know you were coming in.”
I couldn’t help but smile. Garbling Jude had always been cute; the words just fell out of his mouth.
“Thank you.” I took the seat opposite him. This wasn’t going to be too bad. He was focused on something else now and probably wouldn’t even remember his offer. “What’ve you got in terms of ideas so far?”
He nodded, his gaze still on me.
“I went and saw Ezra this morning to get some ideas off them about marketing. They said we should look to use all the platforms, but especially video ones, which I can front. They also mentioned about doing a Q and A session on socials too, with me and you so we can talk about food and the idea of balance – no specific diet bashing. I’m also getting both the teams to show photos of off-season bodies, so how we look when we’re not at our peak as athletes. I wondered about a section on the club’s website for recipes, and maybe example food plans – feel good food plans – so what to eat to stop you from feeling bloated, or how to balance.” He finally breathed. “Sorry, that was word vomit, wasn’t it?”
I chuckled. “It was, but it was good word vomit. How do you want to organise this? This isn’t a short-term project.”
He nodded. “I know. I was wondering about linking it in with a focus on foodbanks and eating healthy on a budget.” His face dropped. “I went and did a hospital visit the other day and there was this kid there, I think he was about twelve. He was under thirty kilos and he was obsessed with being a body builder, which I know doesn’t make sense. He wanted to watch videos of people training and then chefs cooking healthy stuff. The nurse mentioned that his mum wasn’t flush with cash and didn’t buy healthy food so he wouldn’t eat it.”
“Disordered eating. Possibly linked with other things going on. He’s in the right place to get the help he needs though.” I could feel Jude’s worry for the kid. “We can definitely look at making everything accessible. I think it would be worth showing a day in your life when you’re mid-season, compared with the off season, and rehabbing an injury.”
For the next half an hour, we listed ideas, sorting them into categories which were evolving into mini-projects, some of which could be bounced straight over to Ezra to put them together on the club’s website or as material for schools and colleges.
Jude was easy to work with as usual. Enthusiastic, positive, quick. He didn’t pretend to know about everything, but he wasn’t shy about his ideas and asking questions either.
“How do you want to oversee this?” I sat back in my chair, aware that a couple of women were looking over at us, which wasn’t unusual. Kitty’s Café was known for having Manchester Athletic footballers hanging around there, which attracted autograph and wedding ring hunters alike.
“I can make a schedule for when we’re doing different things, like the social media interviews. I can book time in with you to draft content for the website – we don’t need to worry about presentation or grammar because Ezra said they’d oversee that. Fundraising wise, Genny’s trying to get a meeting with a publisher about the recipe book, but she wants you to be lead on that, so it’s based on nutrition, so you’ll be the expert and I’ll be the - ” he searched for the word.
“Face of it?”
“No, because I think they want you on this too. Pairing the two of us together. I can see how it works. It’s an opportunity for you to branch out what you do, too.” He kind of looked hopeful.
“I’m not interested in creating a fad diet plan.” I raised an eyebrow. “But I guess this is exactly not that.”
“True. And we aim it at normal people. Students, teenagers who might be cooking for themselves, older people who have a budget to stick to.” He looked at his notes.
I could feel his passion for this. It made me curious.
“What’s got you with this? Not being funny, but you grew up with an international footballer for a father – you didn’t experience any money worries and you’ve always had access to nutritional advice.” It was blunt but true.
He shrugged. “Being in the schools. A few things I’ve read recently – I’ve had time to look through stuff. I’ve been trying to understand more around the science of what I eat as well; what I can do to help recover and be in the best shape I can. I don’t want to take ages to get back to match-fit.”
“You should’ve contacted me. I could’ve given you more stuff to read.” The words were out before I’d thought about them.
Jude studied me, his eyes full of curiosity and some distrust. “I think you know why I didn’t.”
“This is work related.” I shook my head, feeling shitty. I had spent the rest of the holiday at the chateau avoiding him without being obvious to other people. He would’ve more than noticed though.
Jude sat back, stretching his arms behind his back, his head tipping back, lifting his chin. “I didn’t want to make you feel awkward.”
“Let’s put it behind us.”
“Just to clarify what do you mean by ‘it’?”
I squirmed. This was possibly a moment where I was being backed into a corner. “Your offer. What happened with us before.”
“So what do you mean by putting it behind us? Forgetting it? Moving on? What does that mean for you?”
“Forgetting it.”
