Page 9 of Playing for Possession
Mortimer examined the gaudy jewels that adorned his fingers. “Joanie’s going to be nervous going on this trip alone. She’s my youngest. She’ll always be my little girl. I’ll feel better knowing you’ve got her back.” He adjusted his hat on his thick head of hair.
No.This wasn’t the way. Besides, Sean would never accept it. He’d find any way to strike back at me. I wasn’t scared of Sean, but I’d never risk my brother getting caught in the crossfire. “I’ve got no interest in being captain. I’m no leader. I’m here to play football.”
I grabbed my kit bag and headed back to the shower. If he wasn’t going to leave, I’d have to get dressed in a cubicle. Mortimer dodged in front of me.
“What about the World Cup? The squad hasn’t been announced yet. I can help make sure you’re on the list.”
I paused at the door. I should have been on the squad four years ago but I’d been passed over. I’d had a brilliant season. It hadn’t mattered. The England manager had never liked me. There had been too many articles in the press about my dad. Sometimes the old man crawled out of the woodwork to sell stories on me when he needed some cash. At twenty-eight, this was my last chance to play in a World Cup.
“They don’t want me on that squad.”
“Then they’re fools. You’re the most talented player on this team. Football is like a machine these days. It bores the life out of me. But you’re exciting to watch. I like rebels. Life’s more interesting when you play by your own rules. Your problem is you don’t have many friends in high places. Be a good boy and do the commercial and me and you can be really good friends.”
“There’s no way you can pull those kinds of strings.”
“You’re underestimating me, Kieran.” His eyes twinkled with mirth. “I’ve been in this business a long time. I know a lot of people. You might not be a favorite with management, but you’ve got something more important: you’re a favorite with the fans. No England manager wants to go against the swell of public support. This is about media relations. We get you a few good stories in the press. I’ll have a little chat with the manager and let him know how committed you are.”
Despite the fact that this man looked like he’d never uttered a sensible statement in his life, his words rang true. England managers paid attention to public opinion, otherwise they tended to get sacked when people needed someone to point the finger at. If I could get the press behind me, I’d be in better standing to make the World Cup squad. Maybe one of the world’s most famous musicians did have that level of influence.
The memory of the first time Mum had taken me to training after Dad had been locked up pushed into my mind. Everyone hadbeen talking about us, but I’d held my head high and carried on as normal. Football was supposed to bring the community together, but for men like my dad it was about division. He’d run with a gang who got into fights after games. He’d trampled the Earnshaw name into the dirt.
I’d spent a lifetime trying to rise above the shame of my father’s violence. I’d given up on the World Cup dream a long time ago. Every player wanted to play for their country. It was an ultimate moment of pride. Who would whisper behind my back if I wore the three lions on my chest? It would prove everyone wrong. All those people who’d told me and Jack that an Earnshaw would never amount to anything could choke on their words.
A commercial would be irritating, but I could endure it. If I could pretend to care about a mushroom soufflé on live TV, then I could mess around on a beach with a can of fizzy pop.
“You really think you can get me on the England squad?”
“I know I can.”
I spoke through gritted teeth. “Fine. I’ll do the commercial.”
He patted my shoulder. “Bright boy. There is one more thing.” His voice was casual, but something serious flickered in his eyes. “You need to behave yourself. I know how men like you think.”
“Men like me?”
He adjusted the feather in his hat, and the fake smile slipped from his face. “My Joanie is a good girl and she’s had a tough year. I want her coming back from this trip with a beaming smile and tales of adventure, not a broken heart. My daughter deserves someone who will cherish her. She’s not for you.”
I could have laughed if his tone hadn’t pissed me off so much. Of course he didn’t want my filthy hands all over daddy’s little princess. This egotistical prick assumed everyone was falling over themselves to chase his spoiled daughter, anda man like mewasn’tworthy of her.No. Thanks.Anyone who had been raised by this man had to be a fucking nightmare.
He puffed a chain of smoke rings from his vape. “I know what men like you are like because I used to be you. No judgment. I remember how it is with the women when your star is rising.”
Bullshit.Mortimer Fox didn’t know the first thing about me. He thought he could swoop in from his crypt or wherever the fuck he kept the coffin he slept in, bribe me, and tell me what to do. This man didn’t get to tell me shit.
“Your daughter is a grown woman. I’m sure she’ll be fine.”
“But you promise you’ll keep your hands to yourself?”
I hate to break it to you, Mortimer, but entitled little rich girls aren’t my type.“Fine. Whatever. You have my word. I promise when we come home, your daughter will still be callingyouDaddy and not me.”
He stared at me for a moment, then threw his head back and roared with laughter. “I didn’t take you for a comedian, son. Very good. You get one pass with me. Don’t talk about my little girl like that again.” He shot me a wry smile, but his words contained a silken warning. “What my daughter really needs is a friend. Be Joanie’s friend, but just her friend. Keep her happy. Let’s call this a gentleman’s agreement. You know how to act like a gentleman, don’t you?”
Unease washed over me. I’d grown up learning to read people. It was the only way to survive as a kid with my dad’s temper, but this man oscillated wildly between chaos and sincerity. Impossible to predict someone so eccentric. I couldn’t afford to make an enemy of him and jeopardize my spot on this team. Jack was happy at Calverdale. I needed to be where I could keep an eye on my brother.
“I’ll be a true gent. You have my word.”
“That’s what I like to hear.” He slapped my cheek lightly with his palm. “Be a good boy and everyone’s happy.”
Nope. Not happy. I’d do it, but none of this made me happy. He gave me a wink and sauntered away, probably to fly off to his lair to concoct more cunning plans before sunrise.
