Previously...

‘Sue, erm there’s something I have been asked to put to you.’

‘What?’

‘It’s just, erm there are certain people who like to bet on matches, you know?’

‘I think so–yes, I suppose so.’

‘Well there are bets on the result and other things like the time of the first goal and who scores it, first corner kick, even who might get sent off and stuff like that.’

‘It seems a weird way to lose your money to me, but if they want to waste it … ’

He looked around again and I wondered why he was so nervous.

‘You know that you sometimes take throw-ins?’

‘Yes.’ I might be small, but I am flexible and can get a surprising distance with my throw-ins sometimes. I wondered what he was trying to ask me.

‘These erm, friends of mine have asked if you would do a foul throw in the second half. They erm, kind of insist.’

‘What!’

And now the story continues…

‘Keep your voice down; do you want everyone to hear us?

He looked around nervously and then turned back to me.

‘Look, it’s no big deal, just fluff a throw in and the job’s done.’

‘Are you nuts?’ I asked.

He looked annoyed at that and I could see that he was getting a bit antsy, but that was his problem not mine. I went to stand up and he grabbed my arm.

‘Don’t run off; let me explain...’

‘There’s no explaining to do. There is no way in hell that I would get involved in something as daft and illegal as that.’

‘Calm down will you and keep your bloody voice down. You have to let me explain.’

‘Why, there is no explanation on this earth that would get me to do something as stupid as what you are suggesting. Have you ever done anything like that?’

He looked uncomfortable and then nodded.

‘I had to–but this isn’t about me, it’s about you. These guys who want you to do this aren’t nice people. They use levers to get people to do what they want them to do.’

‘Well they haven’t got any levers on me.’ I said making to go.

‘Will you sit down and listen to me?’ he hissed, still holding my arm rather tightly.

I would have clocked him one if I was a man, but ladies ain’t like that so it was either slap him on the face or sit down. I was a bit curious as to what he might say, so instead of slapping him, I sat back down a down, raised one impeccably plucked eyebrow at him and let him say what he was going to say. Slapping was an optional extra at a future point and I didn’t rule it out.

Once again he looked nervously around him and then continued.

‘They know things about you.’

‘So, a lot of people know things about me. My life isn’t exactly a closed book.’

He looked at me for a second. I could see a bead of sweat go down the side of his face.

‘Four years ago, you were caught stealing.’

My mind flashed back as I remembered. I had been in a clothes shop. I had been beaten by my step dad, again and I was full of anger and pain. I had seen a skirt in the Young Miss section and I had gone into the changing room cubical to try it on.

Even then, before I knew about my body, I looked more of a girl than a boy. I had on jeans, t-shirt and red hoodie but no one glanced at me twice when I asked if I could try the skirt on.

I remember that the skirt fit well and I loved it, but my mind was really on the violence of the previous evening when he had come home drunk and had hit both me and mum for no good reason. Looking in the mirror at the bruises on my arms and leg all bore testimony to what sort of life I was living. I felt anger at my situation and pity for myself as at that time, I felt that nothing was going right.

I so remember how I believed that somehow it was my fault. I didn’t look like a normal boy and he had taken it out on both my mum and me. Then in a reckless moment, I took the skirt off, distractedly put it into my bag and then, changing back to my jeans, I walked out of the changing room and left the shop, my mind full of the injustices of my life.

Of course, I wasn’t thinking straight and as soon as I walked out, the alarms started going off and I was stopped outside by two burly security men.

I had protested my innocence but couldn’t get away from the fact that I had walked out of the shop with an unpaid skirt in my bag. More humiliation followed when it transpired that I was apparently a boy rather than a girl.

Almost like some sort of nightmare, I was taken upstairs to the office; the police were summoned and to cut a long painful story short, I was cautioned for stealing.

Needless to say when my dear step-dad found out, I was beaten again–nothing new there–as he seemed to find any excuse to hit me.

The only reason I didn’t say anything about his violence to the police was that I knew, despite everything, my mum loved the scum bag. It was only a few short years later that he killed her and then himself.

My mind came back to the present when Ben continued.

‘So, they reckon that you wouldn’t like your past dragged up and your squeaky clean image tarnished in any way.’

I looked at him and noticed for the first time, his weak chin and look of terror behond his eyes. I wondered fleetingly what hold they had over him.

I got up and he grabbed my arm–again.

‘Let go of me.’

‘Think about what I said; they will do it, I know they will. Remember Mark Adwood?’

Mark had been pilloried for a sordid affair with another player’s wife and the full intimate details had been plastered over the papers about six months before. He had been transferred to a club in France and his game had gone to pieces.

I pulled my arm away and without a backward glance I left him and walked out.

I found myself wondering over to one of the changing pitches and I just stood by one of the posts and watched the youth team squad playing a practice match.

It took me back to the time when I used to play in the park. It was great then, no worries would get through to me while I was playing. I knew that there would be trouble at home, but when I was playing with my mates, I forgot all that and immersed myself in the game. Make no mistake; those games were important to us. We played with as much commitment as truly professional footballers and we hated to lose.

I wished for a moment that things were that simple again. Everything had got more and more complicated for me since I had become a professional. I wondered how much more of this crap I could take. I loved the game and being a player for Melchester was a dream come true. But the dream had at times been a nightmare and I was getting sick and tired of being pulled in one direction and then another.

After watching the boys for a few more moments, I turned away and headed for the exit.

I could see Ben still sitting at the table behind the window glass of the canteen. He was on his mobile; no doubt talking to the people he was now working for.

I took my iPhone out and dialled Auntie’s number.

‘Auntie Monica?’

‘Hi Honey, are you finished?’

‘Yes,’

‘I am going to be about thirty minutes as I have to pick up the ring that I had altered from the jewellers, can you wait that long?’

‘Erm no, I’ll go back with Charlotte. If that’s okay.’

‘Fine honey, I’ll; see you back at Southfork.’

I smiled at that. Auntie Monica was a fan of a very old program called Dallas and had all the DVD’s.

‘Okay, bye.’

After nodding to a few people at reception, I walked out to the car park. Charlotte in her 4X4 was parked over in the corner and she watched me as I limped over. My leg was still hurting a bit after all the pounding that the sadist–I mean physio–had inflicted on me.

I opened the car door and flopped in.

‘Hi Sue, everything go okay?’

‘Yes–no.’

‘No?’

I looked through the window, trying to marshal my thoughts. After a few seconds I made my mind up. I wasn’t going to play ball with people trying to corrupt me and the game that I loved. I had done some silly things in the past, but I had, I hoped, learned by my mistakes.

I turned to Charlotte.

‘I have been asked to do something illegal.’

‘What!’

After taking a deep breath, I told Charlotte all about it. She listened without interruption.

After finishing my shameful tale, I waited for the reaction. I wasn’t proud of what I had done but I knew that it was in the past and I wanted it to stay there.

‘So this Ben is trying to get you to fix the match?’

‘Yes, in a way, although it would only be a foul throw, every action you do on the pitch has a consequence in the game.’

‘I think we need to nip this in the bud. Let’s get you home and then we can find out the best way we can deal with this.’

An hour later, we were sitting in the sun room having a sort of a meeting.

Mummy, Daddy, Auntie Monica, Danni and Charlotte were there and John Prentiss and Sheila Strong were present on the spit screen, call conference thingy that was inbuilt in our flat screen wall TV.

Charlotte explained succinctly what had occurred. Coming from her, it sounded like she was angrier with Ben rather than me. I was ashamed at what I had done, and I wondered what the others would say. I had never spoken of it as I felt that it was a part of my life that I really wanted to forget. Now the past had come back and bitten me in the metaphoric bum.

When she finished there was a moment of silence.

I was looking down at my skirt and playing with the hem, not wanting to look up and see the condemnation on their faces.

Mummy, who was sitting next to me, took hold of my hand. I was getting a bit sniffy and it was nice having her warm hand in mine.

‘No one is judging you love, you had a hell of a time and the strains you must have been under were horrific. The thing I’m angry about is the fact that no one in authority picked up that you had been beaten and abused, or if they did, nothing was done about it.’

‘That right, Susan,’ said Daddy, ‘don’t blame yourself. Now we need to decide what to do. Personally, I think that Sandy should be told and soon. We don’t want a man like Ben at the club.’

I looked up.

‘What if they have something on Ben? They could damage him too in some way.’

‘’It’s great that you think about someone else,’ said Sheila, ‘but in this situation, you have to look after yourself. Let’s face it, it this thing isn’t nipped in the bud, he might try it on with others and then it may get a lot worse.’

‘What about the negative effects of the story about the theft getting out?’ asked John.

‘We play it by ear. They may be bluffing but if they aren’t then we will have the correct story ready, not a badly slanted one to make Susan look bad, but the truth, where she had a hell of a time of it and just snapped and did something stupid that she regrets to this day.’

‘She was just 12, for goodness sake!’ said Mummy.

‘Her age at the time is irrelevant.’ said Danni, ‘These people play for keeps and would drag up anything in the least bit unsavoury to use as a leaver, they have made a lot of money by making sure that the odds are in their favour. Millions are made every day by betting illegally. They probably have their fingers in other pies too–money laundering, drugs, prostitution, you name it. We have to somehow take the power away from them.’

Sheila spoke up. ‘I suggest that we get a reporter from a friendly newspaper and then he or she can maybe run a story that will tell the truth. Susan won’t look great but I think that if the article is written in the right way, people would understand the strain she was under and the intolerable life that she had at home. I will talk to a few people and get back to you on that.’

Things went on in the same vein for some time and then when the plan had been agreed and ironed out, I left them to it.

I went out to seek Andrea and found her in her room; doing some homework on her computer. She took one look at me and gave me a big hug. I was very emotional and had a good cry. After telling her all that had happened, we had more hugs, a bit more crying and then finally, I felt a bit better. It helped that we had a rather nice snogging session after that and somehow it seemed that the day was turning out a bit better after all.

Sandy was told about Ben and what he had tried to do with me and Sandy’s hot Scottish blood came to the boil and he went erm, mad and started shouting and then threw a potted plant against his office wall. Ben was suspended and immediately put on the transfer list. The footballing authorities were informed about the attempts to influence the game and also the police, who took things very seriously and were making enquiries as to the people behind the attempt to alter the game and profit by it. Ben was interviewed at length and cautioned. The betting syndicate was based in the far east and the police were trying to get a hook on the scam without, as yet, much success.

I had an interview with Julia Smith of the Recorder and a few days later the interview, together with photos of little me in a pretty dress, appeared on the front page. The feedback we got was of sympathy for my plight and not the vilification that the crooks expected. We had managed to get in our story first and that took the wind out of their sails. I just hoped that I wouldn’t get any comeback from the bad guys and it was in anticipation of this that our security was beefed up even more than usual.

Back to more mundane things, my leg had been taking longer to mend than expected and I had to endure an enforced two week break. For some time, the USSF or United States Soccer Federation had wanted me to go over to Chicago and meet them. Just prior to my eventful talk with Ben, I had agreed to go over and do my bit for England and football in general. All the arrangements and paperwork had been fast tracked so that I could go. What with the betting scandal and everything, I had clean forgotten that I was going and it was only when Mummy reminded me that it all came flooding back.

At last I had something to be cheerful about!

The USSF wanted me to go around schools and colleges and talk to budding players about the game in Europe. It was considered by the club that it would be good PR and it was decided that I should take the opportunity to go out there and do my bit for the game. Dad would be with me, together with Danni and Charlotte. Also the USA arm of the security firm would lay on extra protection, just in case.

We would be staying at the Waldorf Astoria, one of the top hotels in Chicago and all expenses were to be paid by the USSF.

Of course, Claire and Andrea were green with jealousy and I very much wanted them to go, but the school wouldn’t let them take time off as it was important exam time so I had to go without them.

It was a tearful farewell that we had at the house before leaving and I had a lump in my throat when we waved goodbye and went to the airport.

Anyone who has flown would tell you that it is 5% excitement and 95% boredom on a long flight. I spent my time looking at some films and playing on my iPhone (in airplane mode). The food was plastic like and the cola watered down and that was in Business Class!

Eventually we arrived and after a smooth landing at O’Hare International Airport, we went through to immigration and TSA and joined the long line waiting to be cleared. I just waited with the others and shuffled forward as the line ahead gradually diminished. Eventually we arrived at the desk and a rather severe man looked at my parent's passports and documents. They were waived through and then it was my turn.

He looked at my Passport and then up at me. He keyed a few things in his computer terminal and then looked up.

‘What is the purpose of your visit, Miss?’

‘I have been asked over by the ASSF to help them, see some prospective players and do a few interviews and talks.’

He didn’t seem that impressed and just went back to his terminal. I wondered if he always looked like that and if his face would crack if he tried smiling. Then a few seconds later, someone touched my arm, making me jump slightly.

‘Could you come this way please Miss?’ asked a uniformed man who had just appeared from nowhere.

Mummy and Daddy were the other side of the barrier and looked puzzled about what the fuss was about.

I just shrugged and then went with the man who for some reason was holding my arm in a vice like grip.

‘Do to mind, you are hurting me.’

‘Come this way please. You don’t want to make a scene, do you?’

With one more despairing glance at my parents who had been joined by Danni and Charlotte I was led through some swing doors and then into a featureless room with just a desk, a computer and two chairs.

‘Sit there and wait,’ said the security man and without another word I was left to myself.

I was there for over an hour and was fuming by the time a man and woman came in. He was in a business suit and she was wearing the female equivalent. Neither of them were smiling as the man sat opposite me and the lady stood by the door.

‘How much longer have I got to wait, my parents will be wondering where I am. What is all this...’

He looked up.

‘You are Susan Hurst, previously known as Mark Hurst?’

‘Yes, but...’

‘Just answer the questions Miss. You are sixteen years old?’

‘Yes?’

He asked me a whole number of questions like where I used to live; details about my parents, where I had gone to school.

All the time he was keying things in on his computer and finally after what seemed like hours, he stopped the questioning and then looked up at me.

‘You may be wondering why you have been brought here.’

‘Yes, I...’

He picked up some forms and then pushed them across the desk at me.

‘These are the details of your ESTA or travel authorization, is this yours?’

I looked at it and remembered doing it online with Mummy’s help.

‘Yes, that’s mine; the name on top is a dead givaway.’

‘Trying to be funny doesn’t help Miss. Please just confirm that these are your details and that the form has been completed correctly.’

I looked down and couldn’t see anything wrong with it.

‘It seems all right to me,’ I said.

He pointed to a section near the bottom where it said:

Health and Character

Have you ever been arrested, charged or convicted of a crime in any country? Individuals who have been convicted of minor traffic violations (such as speeding), or with one (1) drink driving conviction may be eligible to travel on the Visa Waiver Program and can answer "No" to this question. However, if you have been arrested, charged, or convicted with a crime, including offences involving the use of a controlled substance, you must apply for a visa prior to entry and must answer "Yes" to this question.

‘Why did you say no to that question?’

‘Pardon?’

‘We have reason to believe that you were cautioned for theft when you were twelve, is that correct?'

‘Yes, but, that doesn’t count, does it?’

‘Yes it does.’

‘But I was a kid and I was only cautioned. It shouldn’t be counted.’

‘Well Miss, it is counted and you should have applied for a visa before attempting entry to The United States of America.’

‘Blimey.’

To Be Continued...

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

If you are enjoying this story, The original Penmarris story - Changes Book 1 is now available on Kindle:

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B006NZFWG8 (US)
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Changes-ebook/dp/B006NZFWG8/ref=sr_1... (UK)