“Is this about you and Billy?”
Rosa looked at her. “What do you mean?”
Imogen shrugged. “I dunno, you just seem to be getting on more lately and talking more, I guess.”
Rosa reversed the car out onto the road.
“You never really talk about why you split up,” Imogen continued. “All you’ve ever said is that Billy wasn’t well and it didn’t work out, but that’s…kind of a bullshit answer.”
“Language, Imogen. You might be sixteen now, but that’s no excuse for such profanity.”
She rolled her eyes again. “So, whydidyou split up? Why didn’t you work it out? Did you just stop loving each other?”
“No, that wasn’t… I loved Billy very much, and she loved me. And you should really consider not calling her Billy anymore, she’s your mum as much as I am.”
“I like calling her Billy. Maybe I should call you Rosa.”
The glare was enough to shut down that idea.
“I’m serious,” Rosa said. “Billy…your mum… deserves the title.”
“It feels weird, though,” Imogen admitted. “Like, you’ve only ever been Mum, but I didn’t really know Billy for the first few years of my life, and then she was in and out, and now…I’m used to calling her Billy.”
“Just think about it.”
Chapter fifty-eight
Imogen was met at reception by her hero, Nora Brady. Rosa smiled to herself as she watched her daughter fluster and blush at every word Nora said.
“So, we’ll go to the canteen and grab some lunch, go through any questions and expectations, and then if you still want to, we can get you joining in with the academy squad.” Nora smiled, then turned towards Rosa. “It’s quite new, so we’re still working things out, but Gabby’s intention is to start bringing through our own talented players.”
“What about education? How does football work around that?”
“Good question. Right now, we have two age groups—those studying GCSEs and those wanting to do A-levels or further education. We want to work alongside schools and meet the needs of our players. If Imogen was to be successful and get offered a place, and she wanted to take it, we would work with the school to see her through her exams, and then movingforward, we’d take a more active part in sustaining educational needs.”
“Right, that sounds promising,” Rosa said as they walked down a long corridor, images of players past and present on the walls. “And how would Imogen’s time be managed away from school?”
“What’s the concern?” Nora asked, stopping in front of a door.
“I’m just thinking that she’s a teenager and she has friends and enjoys the usual things teenagers do.”
Nora nodded. “Obviously we have expectations about behaviour. But we all like to have fun, right?” She smiled and opened the door.
The bubble of sound that had been muted a moment ago now bellowed out as they walked in to find the first team sitting together and eating.
Imogen’s eyes lit up as she looked around the room and spotted the familiar faces of the team she’d been supporting.
“Grab a tray—get whatever you want,” Nora said, grinning.
Imogen felt Rosa’s hand on her arm. “Come on then, head up. You belong in every room, remember that.”
“I know but…that’s Allegra Mann,” Imogen said, her eyes moving quickly from face to face. “Beth Nailor, Ladonya…”
“And you’re Imogen Cafferty-Fisk.” Rosa squeezed her arm. “They’re just a step ahead of you, not better than you.”
“Mum,” Imogen laughed, “they’re totally better than me.”
“As footballers, maybe. Not as people.”
