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“That’s the best part. You don’t have to decide because you have the law firm, sweetheart,” Mam adds calmly with a sickly sweet smile.
“I don’t want it.” Short of stomping my feet, I have no idea how to get this across to them. “I don’t want the firm!”
“Why do you have to be such an ungrateful little girl? After everything we’ve done for you. This is your legacy.”
“I’m not ungrateful! And I’m not a little girl! I want to live my life how I see fit.” I stand abruptly, refusing to take any more. It’s the last straw. “I have to go. I’ve got a match tomorrow and I need a good night’s sleep.”
“We’ll see you on the six o-clock news then,” Dad snaps, and with that I walk out, slamming the door behind me like the child they think I am.
I’m used to these nights ending like this, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less. Tears sting my eyes all the way home and when I eventually reach the door to my apartment, the one person I don’t need to see is coming out of his.
“Natasha? Are you okay?” His voice is full of concern, but I’m a fucking coward so I ignore him, closing myself away in the safety of my flat like I have every other time I’ve seen him since our run-in the other night.
As I lie in bed a little while later and everything is quiet, I realise I miss the sounds of Luke’s video games. Because without the incessant shooting and zombie cries, the voices and doubts that play in my mind as I stare at my ceiling are much harder to ignore.
Chapter Five
Luke
“So, shall we talk about this proposal you have?” Auntie Mel asks as I sit across from her in her office at the Wearside FC training academy. She’s trying her best to keep her poker face in place, but any minute now, the grin she’s been suppressing since I walked through the door fifteen minutes ago is going to burst out of her.
Mel isn’t a blood-related auntie; she was Mam’s best friend. They both played professional football here at Wearside Women when I was a kid. The club became a second family to us when we lost Dad. We were here so often it was like we lived here.
Mam died here too. She walked out of the tunnel into a packed stadium and five minutes later suffered a heart attack and collapsed in the penalty box while Hannah and I watched from the stands with thousands of others.
After I lost Mam, I grew to despise the game that cruelly took her away from us, but I’d still bring Hannah here almost every day. My sister loves any kind of sport, but especially football and I couldn’t take that away from her. I’d drop her off after school while I went to my uni classes on an evening. When she was old enough to drive, she didn’t need me to bring her anymore, so I stopped coming altogether.
It was easier to leave this world behind than confront my feelings head on and unfortunately that meant leaving Mel behind too.
But the way she’s welcomed me back with open arms, as if I didn’t turn my back on her for all these years, makes me realise what a big mistake I made and now I’m here, I hope I get a chance to rectify that.
I clear my throat. “I’ve designed a basic concept for a game based on women’s football. Like FIFA but for the Women’s Super League to start, hopefully extending to theChampionship. I need to pitch for the licence and apply for funding and I’ve hit a mental block. In return for sponsorship next season, I’d like access to the academy and the team to help with the development of the video game,” I say. “I can’t offer you exclusivity in the marketing, but I can guarantee Wearside Women will be heavily promoted within the game and the advertising campaigns.”
“You don’t need to offer sponsorship, Luke. You’re welcome here anytime and we’re happy to help.” Her voice is kind and reassuring. She knows how hard it was for me to come here today.
“I’ve looked at the club records, Mel. Cash is low and if you get relegated this season, you’ll lose your primary sponsor. You’ll never get that level of sponsorship from another company if you go down a league. The team won’t be able to survive it, especially not when the men’s first team are in the same position.” I meet her gaze, adding, “I can’t let that happen to her club when she fought so hard to get the women’s team off the ground in the first place.”
She nods her silent understanding. “I’m impressed. You did your homework. I do need to sign new players if we’re goingto survive this season and there are a few in the academy I’ve had my eye on. If you’re serious about this”—she produces a manilla file, handing it over her cluttered desk to me—“these are our current sponsorship packages.”
I open the folder as she watches me intently. I already looked into their sponsorship packages whilst doing my research on the club, but I still peruse the page.
“I’ll take full secondary sponsorship for three years until the game is released. Then we can negotiate again, if necessary.” I close the folder and place it down gently.
“On behalf of the club welcome back to the family,” Mel says with a grin, offering her hand and we shake on the deal. “Bridget O’Leary is our head of PR and marketing. I’ll get her to come and see you to sort out the finer details, while I head out with the girls for this morning’s training session. If you’re happy to stick around, I can introduce you when they’re done.”
“That sounds great,” I say excitedly, hope already starting to bubble up in my stomach. “Would you mind if we don’t tell them who Mam was right away though? It’s not that I don’t want them to know, but people tend to look at me differently when they know.”
“Of course,” she agrees, then picks up the phone and asks Bridget to come fetch me.
Familiarity settles over me for a second, but I have trouble placing the name until a beautiful woman with jet black hair appears in the doorframe of Mel’s office. Unlike the last time I saw Bridget—dressed in pyjamas with Natasha and their other friend Brooke in the hallway—she’s a stone faced professional, her hair styled in neat Jessica Rabbit waves, dressed in a perfectly fitted burgundy dress and heels so high they look impossible to walk in.
“This is Luke Ramshaw. His company is going to be a secondary sponsor this season in exchange for the expertise of the club. Could you draw up the sponsorship contract please?” Mel says, and Bridget turns to face me, recognition dawning on her.
“This is wonderful!” Her eyes shine with excitement, although I can’t work out why given the complicated situation I have with her friend who’s obviously still mad at me. “What exactly do you mean ‘expertise of the club’?”
“Access to the players, staff and the facilities. While you’re at it, sort him a season card for the rest of the seasonand get him a temporary ID badge for the academy.” Mel stands, gathering an iPad and notebook from her desk, so I follow suit. “I’ll arrange to have a copy of our schedule for the next few weeks sent over to you this afternoon, so you can plan what you need around that. Bridget will accompany you in the meantime and we’ll call a meeting in the media room to announce it to the team after the session.”
“Thank you, Mel. I really appreciate it,” I say sincerely before turning to Bridget who is still grinning like a Cheshire cat. “Lead the way.”
