Page 103 of Kicks
Barry must have realised.
“Eddie. I need you to come to the cyclist changing rooms, please,” he said loudly. “Those shirts have arrived for our away games and I’d like your opinion.”
Grateful for this intervention, Eddie allowed himself to be led towards the service lift at the other side of the office. Charlotte flatly refused to let any deliveries come through her reception. Luckily, the architects had installed a second lift.
Once inside, Eddie let out half a sob and half a hiccup.
Barry was watching him with concern.
“I’m okay,” Eddie replied, getting himself together. “Thanks for that. Oh, and thank you for putting in a word for me. James let it slip.”
Barry reddened. “I hope you don’t think I was gossiping or anything. Between you and me, I think James is wrong for how he’s gone about this. Everyone knows that job should be yours.”
“Apparently not. I fucked up the sales competition and now I’ve screwed the interview up. Whether I think you’re gossiping or not is the least of my concerns. For the record, though, I know exactly why you spoke to James and I’m very grateful. Thank you.”
“You’re more than welcome. What are you going to do now?”
“I guess I’ll be writing a letter of resignation this weekend.”
“No!” Barry exclaimed. “We can’t lose you.”
Eddie shook his head. “I’m not that good a footballer.”
“Do you think that’s all I care about?”
Barry had gone a worrying shade of red. Eddie instantly regretted his words.
“I’m sorry, Barry. Of course not. That’s a very sweet thing to say. I don’t see how I have any choice. If Mr Dickhead gets the job, I’m out of here.”
“You wouldn’t be on your own. Kat told me she’d leave too.”
It would be a slight victory if Brad got the position and instantly lost most of his team. Yet, Eddie would still be out of a job. The lure of foreign climes was still very tempting. Even if it was for a year or two.
The lift got to the ground floor.
“Do you really have football shirts for me to see?” Eddie asked.
“Of course not,” Barry replied. “I figured you needed a bit of space. Come on.”
Barry led him through to the changing rooms that staff who cycled to work used. Mercifully there was no one there.
Eddie sat down on one of the benches and put his head in his hands. Barry sat next to him.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Barry ventured. “I presume he hasn’t been in touch?”
Eddie sat up. “Ignored every call and message I’ve sent.”
Barry frowned. “And you’re going to give up?”
“You sound like Scott. I haven’t much choice, have I? I lied to him. Of course, he found out and wants nothing to do with me. I told you I wasn’t good enough for him.”
The changing rooms smelt of sweaty socks and cheap shower gel. Eddie had never been down there before. He would rather cut his dreads off than cycle to work. It was easy to spot those who did. They wandered around the office in shockingly creased clothes.
“Well I think you’re being too hasty,” Barry said. “I’m surprised that you would give in so easily.”
The hypocrisy bristled Eddie a little.
“That’s rich coming from you.”
