“It will be — that I know,” he said. “Now, you get on with your day and pretend you heard none of this, understand me? Trust me to look after you, Minnie. Leave this be and don’t mention it again.”
She didn’t trust him, not in the least — but at least she now knew to keep her eye on things.
“Very well, Father,” she said. “Best of luck.”
She had a feeling he would need it.
Chapter Four
Tommy wiped his forehead as he stood, one foot on the bench beside the practice field, his breath coming quickly.
One could always count on their captain to never take it easy on them. Practice was always gruelling, and today was no different.
In fact, if anything, it seemed that since Rhys had married, while he had softened in his personal life, he was even harder on them on the football pitch.
On the plus side, Tommy had never been in such fine shape before, and if he had less pride, he would have to thank Rhys for the definition he was seeing in his muscles.
However, he would never let his captain know of any positive outcomes from his relentless drills. Wouldn’t want to encourage him.
“How you feeling, Tom?” Colin asked as he came by, his own towel draped over his shoulder.
“Never better,” he said, forcing a grin, which Colin snorted at, knowing his true thoughts.
Tommy reached into his pocket tofind his watch, groaning when he saw what time it was. He wasn’t going to have the chance to stop at home to bathe and change without being late for dinner at his mother’s — and one could never be late at Mrs. Ward’s house, for then he wouldn’t get dessert. Six-and-twenty years old, and his mother could still threaten him with sweets.
But then, she was allowed to, after all she had put up with from him over the years.
“It’s Wednesday,” Colin said, “dinner at your mother’s?”
“Dinner at my mother’s,” he confirmed.
“How is your sister?” Colin asked, and Tommy hesitated.
“She’s all right,” he said. “Not better, not worse, as far as we can tell.”
His younger sister, Cindy, had taken ill with consumption a year ago. Fresh air and rest seemed to help manage it, but some days were worse than others.
“Well, I hope she’s feeling better,” Colin said, clapping him on the shoulder. “Let me know if there’s anything we can do to help out.”
“‘Course, Colin. Thank you,” Tommy said before he went into the bathhouse to change his shirt and continue on to his mother’s.
The home where he had been raised was small but as tidy as any could be, sitting on the edge of the neighbourhood where Tommy lived above the blacksmith’s shop. He had apprenticed for seven years and was more than ready to take over for the blacksmith, but every year Jack said he would stay on for “just one more.” It caused no end of frustration for Tommy, who was sick of making an apprentice’s wage. Yet he knew that no one else would ever give him a chance, for they would wonder why the man who had spent all this time apprenticing him wouldn’t provide him any more opportunity.
It was a question that Tommy often asked himself.
“Good evening, ladies!” he called out as he walked through the front door, immediately embracing his mother, standing by the stove, and then his sister, where she sat at the table.
She looked all right, although she could use some more color in those cheeks.
“Tommy, did you bring any friends with you tonight?” she asked eagerly, and he laughed, pretending to pinch her cheek, even though she was only a few years younger than he was.
“The last thing we need is footballers around,” he said as his mother swatted him with a dishtowel, directing him toward his seat.
“The young men are both kind and polite, and are always welcome here,” his mother said. “And, as Cindy has pointed out, most of them are not difficult to look at, either.”
“Mother!” Tommy said, his mouth open wide, his hand over his chest. “You shock me.”
She laughed. “I am a grown woman, Thomas, and I can say as I please in my own house. Now, if you’d be a dear and help me serve the table.”
