Page 89 of Playing for Possession
“Fine. I’ll go. I know when I’m not wanted. I’ll find a better club.” Sean’s face twisted with bitterness, and he turned his attention to Adam Wallace, who stood silently in the corner. “Are you going to let them talk to me like this?”
Adam scraped a hand over his sandy beard and put a hand on Rob’s shoulder. “I’m sorry about this, Rob.” He inclined his head to Ollie. “And you too, son. I’m sorry.”
Adam shook his head, and his voice was hoarse. His gray eyes locked with his son’s and flashed a stark warning. “You shut your mouth now, boy. You’re going home with me. We need to talk.”
Sean paled and cast his eyes downward. Without another word, Adam left the room. Sean bowed his head and followed like a Rottweiler who had been called to heel. Adam shut the door behind them and a strange silence swept around the room.
Rob picked up a pen and tapped it against the desk. “I don’t want a toxic environment. Football has never truly felt like... an inclusive place at the grassroots level. Things have progressed over the past couple of years, but I recognize this isn’t an environment where everyone feels comfortable to be themselves. The women are way far ahead of us on that score. Things need to change.”
He transferred his gaze to Mortimer. “Sorry for all this. Thanks for coming to me with it.”
Mortimer nodded. He rested a hand on my shoulder as he escorted his son to the door, but said nothing. What did that mean? He wasn’t mad at me? He wasn’t giving me the boot?
“Wait,” I called. “How is Joanie?”
Mortimer paused at the door. “You broke my rule, Kieran. I told you I wanted Joanie to come back with a beaming smile. She hasn’t looked happy since she stepped off that plane.”
No more games. Only the truth. “I fell in love with your daughter. I won’t apologize for that. She doesn’t want me because she feels betrayed by this stupid deal.”
His usually confident expression was guarded. “This isn’t about you. Joanie doesn’t have time to think about you at the moment. Tomorrow is her first match back. You need to give her space.”
“I know. I will, but can you tell her something? Don’t say it’s from me. I don’t want to upset her, but she needs to know this.”
He pressed his lips. “Know what?”
“Tell her that it’s OK to feel whatever she feels tomorrow. Tell her that she’s brave and strong. That the crowd is going to be full of kids who think she’s brilliant. Please tell her that she’s creating an amazing legacy.”
Mortimer’s eyes fixed on mine. A satisfied look flashed in his scrutinizing glare and he nodded. “I was wrong about you. I can’t help you with my daughter. She’s a grown woman. You’ll have to figure that out by yourselves, but I’m going to do what I can to get you on the England squad this year.”
“Why?”
He smirked. “Because we don’t stand a chance in hell of winning it without you.” He gave Rob a mock salute, and swept away, closing the door behind him.
Rob fixed his stern gaze on me. My stomach clenched. This wasn’t going to end well. Better to get it over with. I might have been in with a chance to play for England, but I’d need to find another club. Rob wouldn’t stand for me punching Sean.
“I know you have to let me go, boss. I’m not going to make it difficult for you.”
He surveyed my face. “Let you go? Bollocks to that. You can’t go anywhere. I need a captain.”
I snorted.Not me. “You’re not serious.”
“The players have already chosen you. Let’s see how we go this season.”
I blinked, baffled and trying to hide my confusion. “I’m not fired?”
He angled his pen toward me. “Your first job as captain is to make sure the team knows if anyone wants to talk to me, I’ll listen. Everyone here should feel comfortable to be who theyare, and they’ll get my full support.” He pressed his lips together thoughtfully. “And if they don’t want to talk to me, then that’s fine too. Either way, I won’t tolerate bullying. I want to do my best for my lads.”
Captain? Me?“I’m really not fired?”
He shook his head. “I want the FA Cup this year. I can’t let you go anywhere. Just go and have a word with Sadie, will you? A public punch-up is a PR nightmare. And don’t worry about Sean. I can’t see him sticking around here much longer. A punch to his ego is worse than one to his face. He’ll go and find another bunch of idiots to kiss the ground he walks on.” He sighed, reached into his drawer, and pulled out his lunch box. “Go on then. Off you go.”
I got up before he changed his mind.
“I saw your commercial, by the way.”
“Oh? What did you think?”
He took a bite of his sandwich and cut me an amused glance. “You look like a fucking idiot.”
