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Authors: Cindy Jefferies

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BOOK: Long Shot
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Sam gave them a beaming smile.

“See you tomorrow, then,” said David.

“See you tomorrow,” added Sam. “Don't be late!”

Back at the boarding house, Roddy struggled a bit with his maths homework, and was one of the last to finish. Geno waited for him, then they went back to their bedroom to see what the others were up to.

When they got there, the room was in chaos. But this time it was Jimmy throwing clothes around, while Marek was sitting on his bed in silence.

“What's going on?” asked Roddy.

“Jimmy has lost something,” said Marek.

“Well, what is it?” said Geno. “We'll help you look.”

Jimmy stopped scrabbling about under his bed and stood up. He looked both embarrassed and very anxious.

“He wouldn't tell me!” said Marek.

“I just… Sorry.” Jimmy looked at Marek, and Marek shrugged. “Promise you won't laugh?”

“Of course we won't laugh,” said Roddy.

“It's my sock,” said Jimmy.

“Your sock?” said Marek.

“Do you only have one?” said Geno.

“No, of course not,” Jimmy said. “But this is a special sock.”

“What's special about it?” asked Geno.

Jimmy bit his lip. “It's lucky,” he said.

Geno started to laugh and then stopped.

Jimmy glared at him. “It is,” he insisted. “I wore it when I was picked for the team at my old school, and every time I've worn it since, something good happens. I've grown out of it now, but I still need it.”

Roddy stared at him. He'd had Jimmy down as being a bit superstitious since his reaction to the tree tunnel and the ghost story. “Is it the sock you usually keep under your pillow?” he asked.

Jimmy looked even more embarrassed. “I didn't think anyone knew,” he said miserably. “I put it there to keep it safe. But now it's gone, and all my luck is going to run out. I won't get into the first team,
or
do well for Charlton House. I'll probably get loads of red cards and end up being expelled!”

“Don't be so ridiculous,” said Marek.

Jimmy looked as if he wanted to punch Marek, so Roddy grabbed his sleeve. “Calm
down,” he said. “If it matters to you, then of course we'll help find it. It can't have gone far, can it?”

“Is this it?” said Geno. He was holding a limp, rather grubby sock in his hand.

Jimmy looked as if Geno had produced a rabbit out of a hat. “Where was it?” he asked, grabbing it from him and examining it carefully.

“Just here, behind the door,” said Geno mildly. “It must have fallen onto the floor when you got out of bed this morning and got kicked over here by mistake.”

“You know a sock can't
really
bring you luck,” said Roddy carefully.

“This one can,” insisted Jimmy. “And
not
having it can bring bad luck.”

“How do you work that one out?” asked Marek.

“It just does, all right?” said Jimmy.

“Some footballers
are
very superstitious,” said Geno. “My dad used to play with someone who had to check the studs on his boots in the same order before each match.”

“That's silly,” said Marek.

“But my dad reckoned that if you believe in these things and then don't do them one day it
can
affect your game, just because you believe it will,” said Geno. “He told me never to be superstitious, because once you start you can never stop.”

“Well, we'd better make sure you don't lose you sock again then, hadn't we?” said Roddy. “We don't want you freaking out like this before a match.”

“You won't tell anyone else, will you?” said Jimmy. “Only I'd be sure to get teased, and then I'd lose my temper and hit someone and get into trouble and…”

“OK, OK!” said Roddy. “We get the idea.
Just look after your sock better.” He looked at the expression on Jimmy's face and sighed.

“Why don't you keep it in your wardrobe?” suggested Geno.

Roddy nodded encouragingly. After all, Jimmy's wardrobe seemed like the most sensible place to keep a sock. “Why not put it in one of your shoes?” he asked.

“Good idea,” agreed Jimmy. He burrowed into his wardrobe, and stowed his precious sock away.

“Phew,” said Roddy. “Now we can all get back to normal.”

But Roddy spoke too soon because the very next day, when Jimmy went to the wardrobe, his sock was missing. And his football boots had gone, too!

4. Yellow Card

Jimmy glared wildly at his three roommates. “One of you has hidden my boots to wind me up!” he shouted. “Where are they?”

“None of us wants to wind you up,” said Roddy. “You go off like a rocket as it is!”

“And I'm sorry I suggested the wardrobe for your sock, OK?” said Geno. “I didn't know you were going to put it in your
football
boot. You know we're supposed to keep our boots downstairs.”

“Don't worry,” said Roddy. “They'll be somewhere. In fact, I bet Mr Clutterbuck has taken them. One of the cleaners probably told him.”

“But they were in my wardrobe,” protested
Jimmy. “How would anyone know the boots were there?”

“You've been tracking mud up the stairs and into our room for days,” Geno pointed out. “It's like you were laying a trail for the cleaners.”

“Let's go and see Mr Clutterbuck,” said Roddy. “I'm sure he'll give you the sock back. After all, it's only boots that are supposed to be kept downstairs.”

“No, it's all right,” said Jimmy. “It's my problem. I'll go on my own.”

A few minutes later, Jimmy returned looking very sheepish.

“Well?” said Marek.

“I got the sock,” said Jimmy. “But Mr Clutterbuck gave me a lecture about leaving mud everywhere. He said he wouldn't give me a yellow card this time, though.”

“Thank goodness!” said Roddy.

“But he will if I do it again,” Jimmy added. He pulled the sock out of his pocket and put it back under his pillow. No one said anything, but Roddy sincerely hoped that the sock wouldn't go walkabout again.

For a few days, they all kept half an eye on Jimmy and his sock, but there were no more dramas. It was just as well, because there was a lot going on.

Roddy was trying hard to perform well in training so that he would be sure of a place in the first team. Stadium School played against some of the best youth sides in the country, and it would be a huge honour to get picked. The only problem was, he would be competing against everyone in the year.

It was a different story within Charlton House, because there weren't so many students to choose from.

Roddy and Keira soon started to create a really useful footballing partnership. They were developing an understanding on the pitch that would hopefully pay dividends in the House Cup. In a surprisingly even friendly, between the Charlton first and second years, they combined to devastating effect, scoring a goal each and setting up another two for Geno. David was extremely impressed, and told them so after the game.

“It's great to see the two of you working together and not trying to win the game on your own. You don't always have to play the Hollywood pass. Sometimes it's best to just lay it off to a team-mate. The two of you have done well to pick that up so young.”

As he showered, Roddy couldn't help feeling a glow of pride. If the head of Charlton House was impressed, it was surely a good sign for his chances next term for the first team!

Things weren't going quite so well in the classroom. Roddy was trying his best, but he was never going to be a high flyer as far as schoolwork went. And for no reason that he could understand, their science teacher seemed to have taken a disliking to him.

“Are you a follower of modern art, Jones?” said Mr Mustard, before he gave back their exercise books.

“Me?” said Roddy. “No, I don't think so.”

“You don't think so,” repeated the teacher. “Don't you know?” He didn't wait for an answer. “You were supposed to give me a diagram of the eye. A
scientific
drawing, not a poor copy of a Picasso on one of his off-days.”

The exercise book landed on Roddy's desk with an accusatory flop, to the accompaniment of muted laughter from Jack's direction.

“Since when does a diagram of an eye have eyelashes?” said Mr Mustard.

More people started laughing and Roddy felt himself blush. He'd only drawn the eyelashes on as a joke, to amuse Geno during homework. He must have forgotten to rub them out.

“Yellow card,” added Mr Mustard flatly. “And you'll get a red one if you try to make a mockery of my lessons again.”

There was a shocked silence as everyone absorbed what he'd just said. Roddy felt terrible. He was the first person in their year to be carded. Now he'd have to throw himself into practice sessions even more, and hope Charlton could pull off a win in their first match.

Almost everyone sympathised with Roddy after the lesson, even those who were in different houses, and would benefit from his mistake.

“Very harsh,” said Ali, who was in Banks.

“I'm sorry,” Roddy apologised to his fellow Charltons. But Geno, Jimmy, Marek, Keira and others rallied round him.

“It wasn't fair,” said Geno loyally. “Maybe I should have owned up that it was me who encouraged you to do it.”

“No way!” said Keira. “You might have got a yellow card as well!”

“It's early days,” said Jimmy. “We'll make up the points again.”

“I hope so,” said Roddy.

The only person who scoffed at Roddy's misfortune was Jack. “Roddy Jones is the first to let his house down,” he laughed. “You're going to be really popular now. Loser Jones. That's your new name!”

“Take no notice,” advised Keira. “He's not worth it. Come on. It's almost time for the seniors' match. Let's go and cheer them on.”

Unfortunately, Charlton seniors were
playing Stiles, which meant that Jack would be there supporting his team as well. Roddy chose a spot as far away from him as possible, but just before the match started, Jack made his way down the field so that he was standing opposite Roddy.

“Just ignore him,” urged Geno as Jack's chant of
Loooser, Loooser
drifted across the pitch.

Roddy knew it was good advice, but it was hard not to react, especially with so many people around to hear Jack's insults.

As the teams ran on, a huge cheer went up from both groups of supporters, and Jack stopped his taunting. Charlton seniors had beaten Stiles several times before, so they were expecting another win. With his ten points to make up, Roddy really hoped they could pull it off today. David Leval was there at the head of the Charlton team, and Roddy
recognised a few of the other, older students, too.

From the kickoff, Charlton were playing quick, expansive football and really making the Stiles players chase the ball. Pretty soon they were ahead, with a well-worked goal, finished off by David himself. The rest of the half went by with Charlton controlling the game, and their goalie hardly having to touch the ball at all.

Stiles began the second half much more brightly, and even managed an equaliser, but Charlton's superior class shone through and they scored another two goals before the final whistle, leaving the final score 3–1.

Charlton House went in for tea feeling well satisfied. After a few nail-biting moments, the seniors had managed a convincing win. This was an excellent start to the House Cup tournament.

“Great result! Shame we didn't get the bonus points for a clean sheet though. What we need now is for Moore to lose in their first game,” a Charlton boy in front of Roddy said. “Moore is always the hardest house to beat.”

“And if we're to have a real chance of beating them overall, we desperately need the juniors to come good. We don't want any idiots picking up yellow cards,” another boy added.

BOOK: Long Shot
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