“It’s nothing concrete yet. It’s more of a feeling at this stage. Something about joy. I think it’s because I had such a wonderful time last night.”
“I’m already intrigued. Will you write it?”
Rona took a thoughtful sip of coffee. “I think I will, yes.”
“You said you’re a music producer but you’re like, famous.”
“I’m not famous. The average person on the street wouldn’t know who I am and I like it that way.”
“Wikipedia and the internet don’t think so. Neither did all the people at the festival last night. They went wild for you.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that. They were up for a party either way.”
“You don’t like the spotlight, do you?”
“No. I find it overwhelming. That’s why I try to keep away from it. Like, I’m grateful to have had success with my band, and still be able to produce music for others, but I’ll keep part of my music just for me, you know.”
I’d never had that option with football. Everything I did had been on full display both on and off the pitch for so much of my life. My every move analysed and judged. I’dnever really thought about it but maybe that was why I sometimes felt I had more fun at training than I did in the high-pressure matches.
I sipped more coffee, entranced by this talented, clever, and intriguing woman next to me. “I listened to some of your hits withSculptlast night before I went to sleep. They’re great songs. I remember liking them a lot when they came out. Was it ten years ago?”
“Thirteen.”
“Vicky has talked about you for ages. I should know more about you, I’m sorry. I blame Vicky’s chaotic storytelling and myself for not asking more follow-up questions.”
“You really have nothing to apologise for. It’s not like you haven’t been busy winning leagues and Euros or anything.”
“True but also not true. Plenty of my teammates have had time for lives outside of football. I’ve been so focused on staying in condition to keep playing for so long into my thirties. I haven’t had the headspace to explore new music, new anything, for a while.”
“It sounds like you’ve been hugely committed to your craft.”
“My body was ready to retire about two years ago. I’ve been battling lots of injuries. It started to feel like I might be doing lasting damage to myself. I pushed my body way beyond her limits.”
“Can I ask what age you are?”
I smiled. “I’m thirty-nine.”
“That’s really good going. It must have taken a lot of dedication to keep going at the highest level.”
“It did. But it’s over now. I’m a free person, you could say.”
Rona leaned forward. “Are you enjoying being free of it?”
“I’m not sure yet. It hasn’t really sunk in. I’m directionless, I know that.”
“You don’t know what you want to do next?”
“I want to talk to you.”
We were silent for a moment. I couldn’t believe I’d said that. It was true and very bold and direct, and it was also a major deflection away from the fact that I did not want to talk about what I was going to do next. I’d been changing the subject with everyone when they asked me that question for a while now. I’d gotten to the point where I’d forbidden Nikki and Sophie from bringing it up. My parents too.
Rona blushed.
“Would you like another coffee?” I asked, desperately hoping she would stay and talk to me and that I hadn’t made it weird. “Breakfast? Actually, I’ll need to go to the local shop.”
“You don’t need to do that we have plenty of food.” Rona smiled, warmly.
We had breakfast together. Rona was so easy to get along with. I found out she lived in London not too far from me. Her parents lived on the Kent coast. She’d been playing music since as long as she could remember, and even before that according to her parents. Her favourite football team was Tottenham Hotspur, and I said I wouldn’t hold it against her.
