Page 97 of Off the Pitch

KitThanks for the kitten though. It was very cute.

I trudged through to the kitchen, vaguely wondering for a minute if there was anything edible in my fridge—even though I knew there wasn’t. I was just debating whether to order Chinese or Indian when my phone rang, Hugo’s name flashing up on the screen.

“Hello?” I said, wondering why he’d called me. Surely he hadn’t meant to, had he?

“Hi. Congratulations on getting your piece finished,” Hugo said, his soft French accent warming his words.

“Thank you. I’m so glad it’s done,” I said as I stared into the fridge again in case it had magically re-filled itself in the last two minutes. “I don’t mind doing rush jobs like this because I like helping people out, but they aren’t particularly good for me.”

“Why not?”

“Well I don’t think I’ve eaten anything except cheese-and-onion crisps and chocolate biscuits since I started. And I just spent fifteen hours sleeping on a sofa that really wasn’t meant to be slept on.” I closed the fridge and sighed. It was definitely going to be Chinese food. I really wanted some noodles.

Hugo laughed, but there was a note of concern in his voice when he spoke. “Well, next time I’ll remind you to eat some proper food.”

“That would be good,” I said, mentally making a note of what I wanted to order. I definitely wanted noodles… and salt and pepper squid, and crispy chilli beef… and some fried rice! That would keep me going for a day or two.

“So, what are you up to now?” Hugo asked.

“I’m just trying to find food, but my fridge is sadly devoid of anything vaguely edible. I was thinking about maybe ordering some Chinese instead.”

“Would, um, do you want to go out and get something to eat? We could go to this great Chinese place I know.” There was a note of uncertainty in Hugo’s voice, but I really couldn’t work out why.

“It’s okay,” I said. “I’m just going to get a takeaway. It’s very sweet of you to offer though, but I’d probably be terrible company at the moment, and I’m sure I smell very bad considering I can’t remember the last time I showered either… I should probably do that too.”

It really was sweet of him to ask, but that would mean showering, putting on clean clothes, and having to go outside. I’d much rather just stay in and watch Netflix while eating my weight in takeaway.

“That’s okay,” Hugo said. “Maybe another time?”

“Of course. That sounds fun. We should go and get dim sum. I love dumplings, but there’s always too much to eat on my own.”

“That sounds great. I know the perfect place”

I laughed. “What is it with you footballers and food? You all seem obsessed with food that probably isn’t good for you. Christian’s the same. I’ve never seen anyone so protective of their ice cream.”

“It’s probably because we spend most of our time eating so strictly that all we can do is dream of something delicious.” Hugo chuckled and his voice dropped a little. “And recently I haven’t felt like eating very healthily.”

“Well, it isn’t always particularly fun,” I said, but even I knew that that probably wasn’t the reason. “Is everything okay?”

“I don’t know.” He paused as if wondering what he should say next. “Ever since I broke my leg and I’ve been stuck indoors I haven’t really felt like doing much. Sorry,” he added, “I shouldn’t bother you with this.”

“No, it’s fine! I can imagine it hasn’t been fun at all, especially since you’ve been so used to being so active. Something like that can be such a major change, and it can be difficult to adjust. I can’t imagine breaking my arm and having to stop drawing. It would be unbearable.” I was struck by the sudden urge to give him a hug, to let him know that it would be alright.

The sense of frustration and upset was evident in his words. He’d had the one thing that filled his time, and I assumed brought him joy, taken away from him.

“When do you get your cast off?” I asked, hoping I hadn’t accidentally managed to stick my foot in it.

“Tomorrow actually,” Hugo said. “But I’m still nervous.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. I guess I’m just worried that it won’t have healed properly, and I’ll have to have another cast or maybe even surgery…” His voice trailed off as if he was suddenly contemplating all the horrible things that could go wrong. I really didn’t want him to do that because that was surely a rabbit hole that wasn’t going to lead anywhere pleasant or productive.

“Would you like me to come with you?”

“You… you would do that?” he sounded astonished, and I had to wonder for a moment if I’d asked something wildly inappropriate. But I didn’t think so. After all, we were well on our way to becoming friends, and this was the sort of thing you did for your friends.

“Of course. I wouldn’t have offered otherwise.”

---