Page 180 of Off the Pitch

The taxi came to a stop outside a large, comfortable-looking house with a navy front door and a neat front garden. I paid the fare and stepped out into the cold December air, pulling my wool coat tighter around me. Coming from the heat of Perth in Australia to the freezing chill of London hadn’t been my smartest move. I wasn’t built for cold weather and detested having to be outside in it.

The front door opened before I reached it. A teenage girl with dark hair and an excited smile stood on the doorstep wearing a giant Greenwich Athletic hoodie, Christmas leggings and fluffy, unicorn slippers.

“Félix!”

“Sofia,” I said, sweeping her up into a giant hug. My youngest niece squeezed my middle as hard as she could, then gave me an appraising look that I knew she’d inherited from her father.

“You look cold.”

“It’s freezing out here,” I said with a chuckle. I stepped into the warmth of the house and sighed happily. Perfect. I could feel my fingers again.

“It’s notthatcold.” She sighed, rolling her eyes. “You’re just a wimp.”

“You wound me!” I pretended to clutch at my chest and gave her my best wounded expression. She rolled her eyes again, shooting me an exasperated smile.

“You’ll live.”

“Ouch, you’re so mean,” I said. “Where’s your sister? She’s much nicer to me.”

“She’s upstairs with mum.” Sofia shrugged. “Dad’s at the club.” She turned to call up the stairs, which were festooned with Christmas garlands. “Félix is here.”

I heard people moving, then the clattering of feet on the stairs before two women appeared.

“Félix! I didn’t think you were coming until later.” My sister-in-law, Marina, gave me a surprised look but a welcoming smile as she pulled me into a hug, pressing a kiss to my cheek. “You look tired.”

“Long flight, and I didn’t get to bed until late. The jet lag kept me up.” It was partially true at least, but Marina shot me a look that told me she didn’t believe one word I was saying.

“I’ve got proper coffee, not that hotel stuff. Do you want a cup?”

“Please. You’re a lifesaver,” I said, finally turning to smile at my favourite person in the universe: Lara.

Although I loved both of my nieces equally, Lara held a special place in my heart.

She was feisty, funny, and smart as a whip. She’d never been afraid to call me out on things, even when she was little. I still remembered holding her the day after she’d been born—I’d never thought anything could be so tiny and fragile. I’d been completely terrified. Then she’d thrown up all over my favourite t-shirt, and I’d decided we were going to be friends.

“Hey,” she said. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” I pulled her in for a hug. “You and your sister are the only reason I drag myself to this frozen hellscape you call home.”

“Oh please, it’s not even cold.” Lara snorted.

“Told you,” Sofia added, from somewhere over my shoulder.

“Pity me, I’ve been in Australia.”

“You don’t deserve pity,” Lara said, totally deadpan.

“I don’t love either of you. I’m going to give your presents to my other nieces.”

“You don’t have any other nieces.”

“Touché.”

I followed the girls through the house towards the kitchen, past the myriad of Christmas decorations. I hadn’t done anything in the way of Christmas shopping, but I supposed I’d have to brave the horror that was London in December sooner or later.

The kitchen was a cosy room at the back of the house, full of the delicious smells of food and coffee. My stomach grumbled at me, reminding me I hadn’t eaten this morning. Marina was scooping copious amounts of Portuguese coffee into an old pot and gave me an appraising look as I entered the room. I had to hold back my laughter. It was clear she and my brother had been married for twenty years because they both pulled the exact same faces.

“Did you eat this morning?” Marina asked.

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