Down on the field, the whistle blows, and the players all burst into motion. The ball is a tiny blur of white, bouncing back and forth between them all, the stadium now a constant static hum of voices.
I leave my sponsors to their talks with Kasia, our PR Manager, and head out into the frosty night air. Mia looks up at me as I amble down the stairs, and I take a seat beside her.
“Enough brown-nosing for tonight?” She grins at me.
“There’ll be plenty more later, I’m sure.”
“Well, the game’s started,” she says, with a nod to the field, her hands tucked into her coat. “Let’s see if I’m actually a good luck charm or if you’ll be begging me to never attend another game again.”
“I guess we’ll-” I break off as the stadium erupts into anticipatory cheers, and we look down to see Adedayo intercept Salford’s centre, manipulating the ball away from him.
Adedayo bursts through the midfield, straight towards Salford’s goal. Their defence aren’t where they need to be, their goalie preparing himself for a straight shot. Adedayo’s right foot angles back, and then he belts the ball forward, the back of the net curving out as Salford’s goalie throws himself through the air too late.
The entire stadium cheers in unison, and the boys jump on Adedayo as he runs along the line, pointing at the crowd.
Mia jumps to her feet, screaming and clapping her hands. “Yes! He did it!” She grins down at me, “Guess I’m a good luck charm after all. Goal in the first 10 minutes?”
“You’re definitely coming to all the games.”
She flops back down into her seat, and rubs her hands together. “It was worth coming out here for this. I forgot how much fun this is.”
I look at her profile, her eyes bright, face glowing with joy. “You certainly seem to be enjoying yourself.”
She shrugs, smoothing her coat over her stockinged legs. “Would it be awful of me to say it’s more fun with Archie not here?”
“How so?”
“I don’t know.” Her mouth quirks as she tries to find the words, raking her impossibly long nails through her hair. “I guess… at his games it always felt like it was about him, you know? And, yeah, it is. But… I’m not under pressure to be the WAG.” She smiles over at me. “I’m just someone going to the football. Just a loud-mouthed northerner who says fuck too much and-” She sits up straight in her seat as Troy Everest gets control of the ball, his kick sending it straight past the goal. “Fuck.” Mia mutters, slumping back. “Poor Troy.”
“He’ll make up for it, don’t worry.” I lean forward, elbows on my knees, and point at the field. “Troy always does this, he tests the goalie. He’ll never admit that’s his strategy, but I know it, every game he does that. Now he knows how the goalie moves, his weakness, and he’ll land the next one, you watch.”
Mia folds her arms over her chest with a smirk. “Anyone would think you know a thing or two about football.” She looks back down at the field. “Do you miss it? All this?”
I sigh heavily, and watch the game continue. “Sometimes. I don’t miss the injuries, or the training.”
“From the looks of you the training never stopped,” she says with a side-glance.
Heat rises in my cheeks, and I clear my throat. “Oh, you know, once you’re an athlete I guess…. I, um, I do try and get to the gym every day.”
“Mmm.” Mia shifts in her seat, crossing her legs, one over the other. “Have you ever considered managing the team? Seems like it would suit you better than all this corporate nonsense.”
“I did, yeah. But my dad…” I trail off with an awkward laugh, and Mia regards me with a raised eyebrow. “Sorry, it just sounds stupid to say something like, ‘My dad doesn’t think I’d be any good at it’ at my age.”
“I guess we never really stop being little kids, do we?” Mia turns her body towards me with a frown. “Why does your dad think you’d be a bad manager? You led England to a World Cup win, for Christs’s sakes. You played here how many years? And now you run the whole club. I think you might know what you’re on about.”
I lean back in my chair, watching the game progress below, Salford dominating the ball much more than I’d like. “He’s always said I’m more like my mum than like him. My mum was the business one, she knew how to make things happen and connect with people. My dad was the footballer.”
“Didn’t win a world cup though, did he?” Mia rolls her eyes. “Don’t get me wrong, I like your dad, but…”
I lift an eyebrow. “But?”
“Dunno. I don’t think he understands much about people.”
The stadium erupts again as Troy nabs the ball in the midfield, shooting like an arrow across towards the Salford goal, mimicking his actions from his last attempt.
The Salford goalie positions himself, ready to stop a better placed shot this time.
At the last second, Troy switches legs, pelting the ball with his left foot, sending it sailing into the unguarded right corner of the goal.
