Previously...

Claire was in the study on the computer and she glanced up as we came in. Her normal cheery look wasn’t evident. She looked as sick as a sick parrot.

I sat on the leather sofa with Andrea next to me. The others draped themselves over chairs and then Daddy coughed and then looked at the two of us.

‘What’s up doc?’ I said, trying to lighten the mood. It felt like a loved pet had died or something.

‘We know who the mole is. He went on your fan site and said things about you and Andrea. It’s out in the open now that you and Andrea are an item. It was only hinted before in the papers and the papers have had to be careful what they say due to your ages and possible litigation, but it’s on the web and there’re so many restrictions there. The idiot used a static IP address and our people pulled some strings so that he was easy to trace through his internet provider.’

I felt Andrea’s hand grip mine, she was trembling slightly.

I took a deep breath.

‘So who is trying to ruin our lives Daddy?’

And now the story continues…

I’m sorry to say that it was Dave Hastings...’

‘What!’

Sweet Dave? I thought that he was a lovely man. He had always been polite to me.

‘I can’t believe it...’

‘Its true honey,’ said Mummy, coming over to me and giving me a hug.

‘The club secretary and HR manager are speaking to him now,’ said Daddy, ‘the club wants to press charges but aren’t sure what they can get him on. All the players at the club have a confidentiality clause in their contract. He can be fined, dismissed or sued– we will know a bit more tomorrow.’

It all made sense now. I thought that he was a bit strange when he came on to sub me at the match. Did he hate me and my family that much? It wasn’t my fault that he didn’t get a regular team place.

I felt suddenly very depressed. It didn’t take much to knock me off my confidence, especially after all that had happened in my relatively short life.

I went off to be by myself and have a think. The others saw how things were and let me alone, although I knew as sure as eggs are eggs, that I was being watched, just in case I might do something silly–but I was beyond that.

I went up to my room and sat on the bed. I was beginning to hate what was happening to me. One minute I was as high as a kite and then next I was as low as anything. I loved my football and it gave me a huge buzz to play well in front of adoring fans. I supposed that I liked some of the media attention, but not all. This is the life I was leading now though. I had put myself in front of the public and I think that the press and media believed that I had no right to a private life.

Was the price I had to pay too much? I knew that I had agreed to this circus. I hadn’t gone into it with closed eyes.

I thought about what my life would have been without football. Maybe I would have just been normal. But then I wasn’t normal, was I? How many kids grow up as a boy and then find out that they are girls? Not many, I bet. How many kids in addition to that have a step father who kills her mother and then himself? Not many. How many kids... Oh I could go on forever. I just wished for once that my life was less complicated.

I went over to my computer and sat down.

I had a look at the fan site. Hundreds of thousands of kids were members. I signed in as Tracy Smith, I didn’t want to go on as little me. I went into that chat room and lurked a bit.

Kate: Mark, you are a Wally, no one is better at football than our Sue!

Mark : she is small though and she will find it tough against some of the bigger, more aggressive teams.

Kate: she has proved herself time and time again. You don’t like it because she’s a girl.

Mark: nothing to do with it. I just don’t want some big bloke breaking her leg, that’s all.

Tammy: Yea, I agree with Kate, just cos she’s a girl that doesn’t mean that she can’t stick up for herself.

Ben: I wish she was my girl friend

Eliz: She already has one

Ben: Wot?

Eliz: Girl friend — According to The Football Herald, she’s called Andrea...

Toni: So she likes girls rather than boys?

Eliz: Don’t know, I think that this Andrea used to be a boy...

I went out of the chat room then. I didn’t want to hear any more. So my family and friends were being discussed now. This wasn’t right. I could make decisions for myself, but when others suffer like that, especially my Andrea, I would have to decide what I was going to do.

I sat staring at the screen and then I brought up an excel spreadsheet. I had 2 columns one for good and one for bad.

After a few moments I started on the good column.

---

Playing football Being liked as a footballer Getting to play with great players against great teams

Having loads of money from playing the game that I loved.

Using that money to make things better for me and my family and also for charities.

Some of the media attention

Some of the press

Being a girl

Being able to afford lovely clothes

Having a loving family

Claire

Andrea

---

I stopped then, I couldn’t think of anything else although there we probably quite a lot of things.

I sighed and then moved on to the bad column.

---

Bad press

No private life

My family being dragged into all this

Ferris

A few players who hated me

Being treated as a freak

Not being able to live a normal life

Having my every movement watched

Being in danger of assault

Not being able to shop or go out like a normal girl

Living in a goldfish bowl

Not having a normal life

Having to look over my shoulder all the time

Others like Dave being jealous of me

My Andrea being targeted

---

I decided to leave it at that; it was all a bit depressing.

I sat there and looked at the good and bad columns

Then I went online again and accessed my four bank accounts.

I was surprised at just how much money I had in them. What with my wages and bonuses as a player and my fees for media events and sponsorship, I could probably just stop there and then and not need to work again for the rest of my life.

Did I want to just stop?

What would I do if I wasn’t able to play and would I just be letting down my club by running away from all this? Would I be penalised for breaking contracts with sponsors and advertisers?

There was a knock on the door.

‘Come in.’

I glanced over and smiled as Andrea walked in and came over. I stood up and we had a lengthy, toe curling kiss. When she had put me down again, she glanced at the screen.

‘What’s this all about?’ she asked as she sat down and had a look at what I had done.

‘I was just putting down the pluses and minuses of my life.’

‘Well, they seem to be pretty even– maybe a bit more on the minus side. What do you want to do?’

‘I don’t know. I feel at the moment though that I might just drop everything...’

‘...and run away?’

‘No, I mean , yes, I mean...I don’t know.’

‘Would you run away from me?’

‘No of course not.

‘And your family?’

‘No, just football. I don’t seem to have made much of a success at it.’

‘Rubbish, if anything you are too successful and that’s the problem.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well let’s look at few more pluses. You have helped women’s football no end. The gates have at least doubled for all the professional women’s teams around the country. New teams are sprouting up everywhere thanks to you.’

‘Not me!’

‘Yes you. You really don’t realise what you have done have you?’

‘I haven’t...’

‘You have. Just look at your fan site. You have more fans on your one than all the other male footballers fansites combined. Girls think that you are just wonderful and boys admire you and some might even want to get in your knickers–come to think of it some girls too...’

She licked her lips and looked at me suggestively. I think that I looked as red as a beetroot. Either that or the central heating was making the room very warm.

‘Andrea!’

‘Sorry, it’s true. You are beautiful but you don’t acknowledge that. You are bright and have a way with words...’

‘Stop it,’

‘All right, I know that you don’t like praise, but remember this. Even if you stopped playing now, you are still famous. Just stopping playing isn’t enough. You will be famous for the rest of your life for what and who you are.’

‘So do I go and be a nun?’

‘You had better not! I can’t marry a nun.’

We looked at each other and just laughed–breaking the tension, all be it for a while anyway.

~*~

The next few days were busy for me. I had commitments with sponsors that I could not get out of and also a number of interviews on radio and TV. In between times I went to training. I had little time for thinking anymore about my future. The present was taking up all of my time and effort.

Dave Hastings had been suspended by the club and would be attending a disciplinary hearing early the following week. Nothing had appeared in the papers about it and the club were holding things very close to their collective chests over this embarrassment.

Hastings still denied that it was anything to do with him and just kept on saying that he was being framed, but the evidence was strong that he used his own computer to spread his vitriol and to be honest, I didn’t believe him.

Andrea was getting better all the time, but we still weren’t sure when she could start her new school. She was seeing a tame shrink about the attack and I knew that she was still having nightmares about it. I know that it hadn’t happened because of me, but I still felt very bad about it and it upset me to see her in any pain.

It was Friday morning. I had just got back from a run around the grounds and I was sweating... I mean glowing profusely as I had been doing some intervals with Danni. I still hated the fact that she didn’t look like there was any effort involved and I was totally knack....erm, tired.

I had a quick shower and as per my usual thing, I had turned on the TV while I got dressed. It was the Breakfast program on the Beeb and I sort of half paid attention to it as I dried my longish hair with a drier.

Suddenly I saw a reporter outside Melchester Stadium. He looked fed up, cold and wet. Glancing outside, I could see that it was one of those stair-rod type days; when rain came down like it was time for Noah to dust off his ark.

I switched off the hair dryer sat on the bed just in my panties and bra and turned the volume up.

‘...the club has just issued a statement and it reads as follows:

“We regret to report that our well loved and respected chairman, Alf Battersby has passed away suddenly after feeling unwell last night at his home on the outskirts of Melchester. It is believed that he had a heart attack. Further details will be forthcoming later. Alf will be remembered as a great player for Melchester and has been the guiding hand in the clubs’ success over a number of years. Our sympathies go out to his son John. Amy, his wife died a few years ago and it is understood that he will be buried next to her in the family plot. Details will follow regarding the funeral and memorial service”.

'Speculation has already started as to what will happen to the club. Alf Battersby was the majority shareholder; but, American Hiram B Attwater has a sizeable stake in the club and has, in the past, tried to gain control by buying up shares. It is no secret that John Battersby has no interest in the club and it is possible that the untimely death of Alf may be the catalyst for the sale of the club. Back to the studio...’

I switched the TV off. I felt so sad. The few times I had met Alf I realised what a great man he was. He had a vision for the club and it was he who appointed our brilliant manager Sandy McPherson and had bankrolled a lot of the transfers over the years. The success of the club was in a large part down to him and I knew that he would be sadly missed.

Putting on a smock top and jeans, I quickly brushed my hair and then went downstairs again. Everyone had disappeared. I remembered that Claire, Andrea and Auntie Monica had gone off to town. Andrea was to go and see her shrink and then they were going clothes shopping for Andrea. I wished that I could go, but it would have been a media circus if I did. To top it all, it was that time of the month and i knew that was in for a bad one–what joy!

I heard the chinking of china and also a nice smell, so I followed my nose.

Mummy was in the kitchen with Mrs Moon. They were doing cakes and I think that Mummy had more flour on her face than in the cakes.

I grabbed a bowl, a box of Weetabix and some milk and sat at the table to watch them making the cakes. I was a little piggy and I had three Weetabix. Well I was a growing girl.

As usual, Mummy was hindering rather than helping. She could burn water, given the chance. I don’t know how Mrs M could put up with her, but I think that it was a bit of a challenge for our lovely cook. Mrs M was determined to teach Mummy the basics of cooking. I thought that she should set aside at least 20 years...no make that 30 for the task.

Daddy strolled in, phone in hand.

‘Hi Sue, did you hear the news?’

‘What news?’ asked Mummy.

‘Alf Battersby died last night.’

‘Oh dear, he was a nice man.’

‘Yes he was. I don’t know what is going to happen to the club.’

‘Will we be taken over?’ I asked.

‘Possibly; John Battersby has his own businesses that aren’t doing that well. I wouldn’t be surprised if he sells out to the Americans.’

‘What will that mean to the club?’

‘Probable changes. It might be good, but I doubt it somehow.’

‘Why?’

‘Hiram B Attwater has criticized Sandy in the past for some of the transfers and the high wage bill. I’m not sure that the two can co-exist together.’

He paused for a moment and then continued.

‘He is noted for being a M.C.P’

‘M.C What?’

‘It stands for male chauvinist pig. He thinks that girls should stay home and learn to cook. He’s not very well liked by a large chunk of American women.’

‘Bloody cheek,’ said Mummy, with flour flying out of her hair in a cloud. I had a feeling that Hiram would not consider Mummy to be an ideal woman in the kitchen. Well, she had many talents but being a house frau wasn’t one of them.

I looked at Daddy and he looked at me. I recalled the list that I had on my computer. Would the death of our chairman mean that I might have to leave the club? I loved Melchester, but if everything changed then I wasn’t sure whether I could stay with a club that had a M.C.P as an owner.

To be continued...

Please leave comments and kudo thingies...thanks! ~Sue