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Previously...

‘Hi, Becky, it’s Susan Hurst.’

‘Hello, Susan, I saw your interview with those two slime-balls–good on you, girl.’

‘Yeah, I don’t know where all that came from, I’m bitchier than I thought.’

‘You can never be too bitchy with Neanderthals like that!’

We both laughed.

‘Look, Becky, I’m having a birthday party tomorrow night at The Stars Nightclub, do you know it?’

‘Second home to me and the girls.’

‘That’s good as I would like to ask all the girls in the Melchester squad to come and as you are the captain, I thought I would ask you first.’

‘Mmm, will the blokes be there?’

‘You mean the men’s team? Yes, they will.’

‘Well as for me then that’s a yes, can those girls foolish enough to have partners, drag them along too?’

‘The more the merrier?’

‘Sounds good, I’ll make a few ’phone calls. I’d be very surprised if anyone turns it down, we all love a good partay!’

We giggled at that and then said goodbye. I smiled as I disconnected. I really wanted to get to know the women’s squad and this would be a good ice breaker. I also wanted to do some training with them–if they would let me. But that was for another day. I had one more ’phone call to make.

I picked up the card from my bedside table and called her.

‘Hi, Michelle, it’s Susan Hurst, can you talk?’

And now the story continues…

‘Susan! How goes it, girl?’

‘Fine thanks. Look, I want to thank you for your support at the TV station.’

‘That’s all right, honey. You have to know what is going on in these situations. Mike is a slime ball and he needed taking down a peg or two. You did me a favour, actually.’

‘I did?’

‘Yes; I think Mike was so taken aback by how you dealt with him that he was a bit subdued when he interviewed me. No intrusive questions–I like that.’

‘That’s great. Look, I know that you’re very busy and everything, but can we get together sometime for a talk. I think I need some intensive training on how to deal with the media; that’s the second time that I’ve had a go at someone in public like that–’

‘I saw the YouTube video of your press conference and how you made that piece of excrement Ferris look about one inch tall. You don’t want to mess with him though, he’s bad news.’

‘Tell me about it. Anyway, when you aren’t busy, can we meet up?’

‘Sure, no problem. I’ll get my people to contact your people and we’ll arrange something…nah, only kidding. How about meeting at say, at La Splendide? I have a permanent room there for when I come into town.’

‘La Splendide, wow, you must be loaded! Oops sorry, that was rude.’

‘Don’t worry.’ She laughed, ‘I am loaded and if you’ve got it, I believe in using it. So what do you think?’

‘What about? Oh yes, that would be great. Sometime next week?’

‘Well I have to be back in town Wednesday and Thursday we could meet sometime then.’

‘We have a home game on Wednesday evening - FA Cup against Grayston, how about that afternoon?’

‘That’ll be fine. I’ll see you then; look, my agent has just arrived, I hate these late night meetings but I need to be in LA tomorrow afternoon and he wants to finalise arrangements; ’bye, hon.’

‘’Bye.’

I put the ’phone down and sank back on my pillows. Cuddling my white rabbit, I wondered if I would ever get used to the celeb lifestyle and whether I actually wanted to. I was a footballer who just happened to be a girl–big deal. Did this make me some sort of freak show? I didn’t want to be just known as some girl who played football with the boys and had a big mouth with the media.

As I turned off the bedside light, I wondered what the next day would bring and whether my party would go well. I fell asleep thinking of Andrew; I loved him so much and I wanted so much to have him here in bed with me, even though I knew that we had agreed not to be silly. I do hate being level-headed sometimes!

The alarm woke me up the next morning at eight. For once, I was awake almost instantly as I realised that I was going to have my belated birthday party tonight! Before that though, there was a lot to do. I leapt out of bed, slipped off my nightie, had a quick wee, put on my trackies, then scrunchied my hair into a ponytail and was downstairs before you could say supercalifragilisticexpialidocious. Danni, was waiting for me and after a swift orange juice, we were out on the roads. We did our usual route down by the canal and it was a fine, if cold morning. There was a bit of frost on the ground and I loved the way it crunched under my feet as we ran along the tow path.

‘Looking forward to your party?’ said Danni, without any sign of discomfort.

‘Yes,’ I gasped, wishing my lungs were twice the size and that I didn’t feel as if someone was sitting on my chest. ‘How can you run like that and not get so out of breath?’

‘I used to be a good runner; I even ran for England–’

I stopped dead, gasping in and out.

‘Oh God, you’re that Danni! I didn’t twig; no wonder you are so great at this.’

‘Are we running or just chewing the fat,’ she said smiling.

We carried on and I was so out of puff that I couldn’t continue any meaningful dialogue; but that didn’t stop me thinking. I was running with an Olympic bronze medallist for the marathon. No wonder she was so good at this. It made me feel somewhat better. I had wondered whether I was very unfit after running with Danni, but it was just that she was a great runner. I remembered that she retired from running after the last Olympics and no reason was given to the media. I hadn’t recognised her because she had changed the colour of her hair and the length of it–it was much longer now. It was amazing that just messing about with your hair could make you look so different. I wondered if I should do that that and then just smiled. I would be recognised no matter what I did as I was a bit in the public eye at the moment!

We finished the run with a sprint up the drive and I was somewhat surprised that I had anything like a sprint left in me.

As we warmed down with a walk around the lake I looked at Danni. I wanted to ask her why she retired, but thought that it might be rude. She saw me looking at her though.

‘What?’

‘Nothing.’

She stopped and looked at me with a quizzical look on her face.

‘Come on; out with it. I know you well enough now. You are dying to say something.’

‘Well, now you ask, I was wondering why you retired; erm love your hair by the way, lovely colour–’

‘–never mind about my hair. Okay, this is between you and me, okay?’

‘Mmm, ’course.’

We carried on walking as she explained what had happened. ‘There were three reasons why I stopped. The first was lack of money, the second, my mum and the third, I didn’t have the time to train properly. They were all connected in some way. My mum had breast cancer. My dad left us when I was a kid and we didn’t have anyone else to help us, so it was just Mum and me. She had a couple of ops but was very ill and weak for some time. I was a full time athlete and the only income I had was sponsorship. It wasn’t enough for me to manage. Contrary to public thinking, unless you are in sports such as football, tennis and Formula One, there isn’t much money given out and certainly not enough for my needs. Looking after Mum was a full time job for a while and as I needed to train at one hundred miles a week, spend lots of time in the gym and go off to various places in the world to do additional training, I found it impossible to do both, so I gave up running and started doing personal security with the company.’

‘That’s a very different thing to do.’

‘Yes, I wanted to do something different. I am quite fit, have a black belt in judo and a couple of other disciplines and like an exciting life with plenty of variation, so that’s why I’m here looking after a bratty young teenager who is rather nosy .’

‘I’m not that bratty, am I?’ I said with alarm.

She laughed and pulled me into a rather sweaty hug.

‘No, silly; I was joking, you’re a great kid.’

We carried on and then felt I had to ask. ‘How’s your mum now?’

‘In remission and getting on okay. She’s even gone back work; she’s a teacher, though close to retirement now.’

‘Do you see her much?’

‘When I can; mind you, she’s found a man, so she doesn’t need me so much.’

‘That’s nice.’

‘Mmm; Derek is a nice man. They go to the same church and sort of hit it off. I want to be a bridesmaid before I get too old, but he hasn’t popped the question yet–but I have hopes; now we had better go in before we both get stiff; that wouldn’t do at all.’

The rest of the day passed quickly. John Prentiss arrived later in the morning to update us on what was happening. Claire, Andrew and their mum had gone off somewhere–I had a feeling that Andrew wanted to tell his mum about Andrea. My mind was somewhat distracted by that as John, Mummy, Daddy and I sat in the summer room and talked over what was happening. The twins were in the lobsterpot, doing what babies do and Mrs Moon was in the kitchen baking cakes. I could see Mr Moon pottering about in the flower beds, no doubt talking to the plants–he was funny like that!

‘Susan, did you hear what I said?’ John asked, interrupting my thoughts.

‘Sorry, John, you were saying?’

‘I said that you obviously haven’t read the papers today.’

‘I don’t read them anymore; they only tell lies about me.’

‘Well, I’ve brought a selection for you to look at later but I can tell you that you are still the flavour of the month. Almost without exception, they liked what you said to Mike, and Tom in particular, on the show. Tom is now a bit of a pariah and Mike, it is rumoured, is about to get the sack for his–what they called–unacceptable style and sexism.’

‘Well he is a bit of a pig.’ I said, with some satisfaction at the news, which let’s face it wasn’t really new to me.

‘And you have another hit video on YouTube,’ Daddy remarked. ‘Before she left, Claire said that your fan site has had huge boost in membership. It looks like you’re a real star now.’

‘I don’t want to be a star; I just want to play football.’

‘It goes with the territory love,’ said Mummy, ‘but I’ve told you before, you have to decide how far you want to go with this. I won’t have my daughter exploited; I only want you to do what you are comfortable with.’

‘Hear, hear,’ said Daddy, ‘it might be good being all famous, but look what’s been happening lately. That reminds me John, do you still think that there is something going on here?’

‘About the shopping centre and the interview? Yes, I do. I have a chum of mine doing some background on what’s happening and the security people you hired are also making enquiries. It’s going to take time, but judging by the public reaction I would be very surprised if anything more happens for a while and if it does, we’ll be ready. I still blame myself for that debacle at the TV station and it was only Susan’s brilliance that turned what could have been a disaster into a triumph.’

‘So what happens now?’ I asked.

‘Well,’ said John, ‘in future any interviews or requests for appearances must go through my office. I know it’s a pain, but at least we can have some sort of control. Is that all right with everyone?’

I looked at Mummy and Daddy and we all agreed that it would be the best way to go. I had had enough surprises recently to last a lifetime!

After lunch, I got a ’phone call from Andrew.

‘Hi, love.’ I said with trepidation.

‘Hi, Susan. I just thought I’d let you know that I told Mum–she knew.’

‘Knew, how?’

‘She said that she wasn’t blind. She knew that I borrowed her clothes–you know, stuff not in the original place, things like that and she went on my computer once and saw that some of my favourites were transgender sites. Then it was the little things; like she wondered why I didn’t have any male type underpants in the wash. As you know, I only wear panties. Anyway, all these things added up and she was going to say something to me, but got ill.’

‘So she’s cool about it?’

‘Well, she’s not happy about the deception and said she thought we had an open enough relationship to discuss such things, but yeah, she’s cool. She wants to see me dressed and I said that you and Claire would help me to look nice and I’ll show her Andrea at the weekend.’

‘That’s great, honey. Are you coming home?’

‘Soon, we are going to the shopping centre as Claire and Mum want to buy dresses for tonight and I need to get something too.’

‘A dress?’

‘N—no…I’m not ready to go public yet. I’m getting a new shirt and trousers, probably shoes too. Mind you, Mummy said that she would go girlie shopping with me, but only when I’m ready to go dressed as a girl.’

‘Well you need to use changing rooms so that is sort of sensible.’

‘’You’re right. Anyway I’ve gotta go now as Mum and Claire have just come out of the Ladies, I’ll see you later–love you.’

‘Love you too, sweetie–see you later.’

As I put the ’phone down, I smiled thinking that at least that’s one worry to cross off the list!

That evening, we were going into town in a stretched limo with darkened windows. It had been hired for the occasion and it was huge inside, talk about the TARDIS!

However, before that there were preparations to be made, and the rest of the afternoon whizzed past in a whirl. Mummy had arranged for several people to come in to do our hair and a makeover for all of us. Within seconds of their arrival I was having my hair, nails and then my face beautified as never before. I couldn’t tell you how they did it as I didn’t have a mirror to show me, but after putting on sexy black silk underwear and slipping on my dress, I was allowed to look at myself. The vision in front of me bore no resemblance whatsoever to Mark. I nearly cried as I gazed at my reflection. I always thought I was okay looking, but with this hair, makeup and dress, I looked–beautiful. From my long hair, down to the black nylon-encased legs and shiny black two inch court shoes, I looked like a dream. It was funny, I always hated thinking or voicing how nice I looked now I had come out of my boy-like cocoon, but I could see that I was pretty and there was no point in denying it. I just hoped that I wouldn’t be remembered for being nice-looking–I wasn’t that shallow, I wanted to be a great footballer and being pretty, to me, was just a bit of a bonus.

Claire looked stunning in a little black number, as did Monica who was wearing a similar dress to Claire, but a bit longer and in blue. Monica was looking so much better now and it was obvious that she was looking forward to tonight–I just hoped that she wouldn’t get too tired. We picked up John, on the way and he and Claire were making gooey eyes at each other and ignoring the rest of us–typical!

Mummy was wearing a deep red sparkly dress with quite a plunging neckline. I hoped that one day, I would have breasts like hers–not too big, but definitely nice and shapely.

Daddy was very smart in a white button down shirt and slacks. He was holding Mummy’s hand and I thought it was rather sweet. Mrs M along with her hubby were babysitting for us. The two of them weren’t really party animals and were pleased to help us out.

My Andrew was sitting next to me and we too were holding hands. He was wearing a smart cream shirt and black trousers and looked edible. He looked a lot happier now his big secret was out. With his permission, I had told Mummy and Daddy about Andrea and as far as they were concerned, there was no problem. It was great to have such tolerant parents and I just wished that other families could be the same and accept people as they are and not as they might want them to be.

Finally the limousine pulled up outside The Stars Nightclub. People were milling about outside, trying to catch a glimpse at what was going on inside. We all piled out and made our way in. I heard a few shouts of ‘Susan’ and–disturbingly–one of ‘Markie’ as we rushed in. There were even a couple of camera flashes and I wondered if any media were about or just ’phone cameras. Danni and Charlotte were there and helped us through the crush of people and I was glad of their presence. I was still unused to all this and I didn’t think that I would ever be.

I soon forgot about the reception as we passed the security guards and into the nightclub proper. I was shoved forward in front of everyone so I pushed at the swing doors and walked in. The place was dark–not a light or a sound anywhere; then the lights came up and in front of me was the huge dance floor. There were loads of people standing there and they all shouted, ‘surprise!’

There was a huge banner in Melchester United colours against one wall saying, ‘Happy Birthday Susan.’

Then the music started and everyone sang Happy Birthday and I nearly burst into tears then and there.

I felt myself propelled to a table on which was a huge birthday cake with the words “Susan, Happy 16th Birthday” written in pink on the white icing. It was enormous and gorgeous with candles and a small icing sugar figurine–which I took to be me–on top, kicking a football.

I was told to blow out the candles and make a wish by the DJ and I did just that. The wish is private but to give you a clue, it involved Andrea, bed and something else–eventually.

Soon, I was dancing with everyone and gyrating as best I could. I was never a strong dancer, but followed Claire’s lead and sort of swayed and waved my arms about a bit. It seemed to work as no one was laughing at me!

I recognised lots of people I knew and Mr McPherson came up at one stage and gave me a hug and kiss on the cheek. I think he said happy birthday, but I don’t know as the music was rather loud. I also did a sort of line dance thingy with the girls team, Most of them turned up and I sort of wished that I was playing with them. At least I had hopes of training with them at some stage, if possible. They were an absolute scream and had of a reputation of being a bit on the wild side and judging by the way they were dancing, I think it was justified!

Eventually, the dancing became slower and I was able to have dances with Daddy, half the boys’ team and Sandy McPherson, who attacked the dance as if it was something personal he had to get out of his system. I had most of my dances with Andrew though and it was dreamy to say the least.

There was a minor incident at the door half way through, when a couple of photographers tried to get in, but they were ejected very quickly and I hardly knew what had happened.

Eventually it had to end and it was a very tired but happy Susan who found her way to bed, in the wee small hours of the morning. No run for me later; I had had enough exercise on the dance floor.

When I came down the next morning, in my dressing gown and slippers and yawning enough to make my jaw click, I found Mummy and Daddy sitting at the kitchen table, poring over a newspaper. They tried to hide it away when I came in and my heart sunk. What could have happened now?

I got some cornflakes and a cup of tea and sat down beside Mummy. It was so quiet, you could hear a squirrel fart as Claire had once crudely but accurately told me.

I ate my cornflakes in silence as Mummy and Daddy did that sort of face contortion bit that they do in place of conversation sometimes. I finished my breakfast and sipped at my tea and then turned to them.

‘All right, what’s up, doc, or is that docs?’

‘Nothing.’

‘Nope, you are not a convincing liar Daddy, try again.’

‘Well, it’s erm––’

‘–Mummy, can I have a sensible answer from you?’

‘Erm.’

‘Oh, bloody hell; somebody tell me what’s got up your bums?’

‘SUSAN!’ came in stereo.

‘Well then, will somebody please tell me what has happened?’

Mummy looked at Daddy and then sighing, passed over the newspaper. On the front page of that sleaze-ball trash sheet, The Globe, was the screaming headline:

SUSAN HURST
CAUGHT TAKING DRUGS
AT HER BIRTHDAY PARTY!

Underneath, was a photograph of me looking tired as I popped a peanut in my mouth. Only it wasn’t a peanut in the picture–it was a pink pill! It had been taken about half an hour before the party ended and I had just sat down after an extremely lively bout on the dance floor with the girls. I looked hot, flushed and sweaty. The photo caught me mid blink, making me look as if my eyes were half closed. I looked drugged up, but I wasn’t.

‘Well?’ Daddy asked.

‘What do you mean “well,” Daddy?’

‘Who gave you the tablet?’

‘What, you don’t believe that trash do you?’

‘No but–’

‘You do believe it–– Oh, Daddy!’

I rushed out of the kitchen, up the stairs, slammed my bedroom door and threw myself on the bed. I sobbed my heart out. After a few moments, I heard a knock on the door.

‘Go away!’ I yelled.

‘Please, Susan, let me come in.’

I didn’t say anything and then the door opened and I could sense Daddy sitting on the bed.

‘Honey–please, let’s talk.’

I turned over and looked at him. He looked upset, nearly as upset as me.

‘Susan, I need to know. Did you take drugs?’

‘You shouldn’t have to ask. I thought that you knew me better than that!’

‘Did you take drugs–? Answer me, please.’

‘No, it was a fucking peanut!’

He shut his eyes for a moment and then smiled.

‘Thank God, I couldn’t go through all that again. Forgive me, honey, I had to know. Now I can deal with that rag. Give me a hug and forgive your old dad for being such an idiot as to think that anything they print would ever be the truth.’

He opened his arms and I flew into them. We hugged for a long while and I think that we both cried a bit but eventually, we wiped our eyes and blew our noses.

‘Daddy–? You said “again”.’

‘Again?’

‘You said you couldn’t go through it again? What d’you mean?’

I could see an expression of pain cross his face for a moment and then he looked at me and smiled sadly. ‘My brother, Nick, died after taking some crack. He had a drugs problem for years and it took over his life. He turned from a bright, intelligent guy to a wreck in a short space of time. I just was so frightened that the same might happen to you. I love you too much for that to happen.’

‘Oh God, Daddy, I’m so sorry.’

‘So am I. I still feel guilty. I should have done more, but I didn’t. I believed him when he promised me that he had stopped. But he hadn’t and it killed him in the end.’

I hugged Daddy some more. I could feel his pain but didn’t know how I could make him better.

Eventually we turned to that newspaper article.

‘Some sodding so-and-so must have doctored the picture using Photoshop ^® or something–I was eating a peanut, for God’s sake!’

‘Yes, they can do all sorts with computers nowadays. I’ll get in touch with John Prentiss. He’ll sort it out.’

‘It’s going to get worse, isn’t it, Daddy?’

‘I think so, honey. For some reason, you’re being targeted. This country is famous for trying to bring down someone who has had a bit of success. I don’t know if all this is connected, but I’m sure John thinks it is, however I’m not sure, but whatever happens we’ll get this mess sorted out. You are not alone honey and we are all in this together and no one messes with this family.

‘I agree. I’m fed up with all this rubbish. I will not lie down and let the slime balls of this world try to ruin my life. I love playing football and other people like to watch me. I won’t let them beat me.’

‘Good girl, that’s the spirit; and, Susan?’

‘Yes, Daddy?’

‘If I ever hear you using the F-word again, I’ll wash your mouth out with soap!’

‘Yes, Daddy.’ I replied rather sheepishly.

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To Be Continued...

My thanks go to the brilliant and lovely Gabi for editing, making suggestions that I hadn't even thought of and pulling the story into shape.