Striker (23 page)

‘Good,’ Freddie said, beginning to clear away the debris from dinner, stacking a pile of plates together to take back into the kitchen. ‘That’s the way it should be. Full concentration on that pitch, then he can do what he likes when he gets back home.’ He winked at Amber, and she smiled weakly back before looking down at her fingers that were still fiddling with the stem of her glass. ‘Amber knows the score, though, don’t you, pet?’

‘Hmm? Sorry?’ Amber asked, quickly looking back up at her dad.

‘You know the score, as far as not distracting Ryan is concerned.’

‘Yeah. Yeah, of course I do.’ She looked over at Jim, who was still staring at her, a slight smile on his far-too-handsome face. ‘Anyway, it’s not like we’re joined at the hip or anything.’

‘She might even be a good influence on him,’ Freddie went on, picking up the pile of plates and cutlery. ‘Might be able to get him to curb that playboy image of his.’

‘Jesus, Dad…’ Amber sighed, pushing her chair back and going over to the sofa. ‘He isn’t twelve, and I’m not his bloody mother. I’m sure Ryan’s quite capable of doing all the growing up he needs to do all by himself. He doesn’t need
my
help.’

Freddie Sullivan looked at his daughter as she threw herself down on the sofa, taking a long sip of her brandy. ‘Right. I’ll just clear the table, then we’ll have a bit of a night-cap, okay?’

Amber looked at her dad, smiling at him. She didn’t want him asking any questions as to why she was slightly on edge tonight. She wasn’t in the mood to make up some excuse. ‘Dad… thanks for tonight. That roast beef was fabulous.’

He smiled back, throwing her another wink. ‘You’re welcome, kiddo. Keep Jim entertained for a few minutes, will you? While I load the dishwasher. I won’t be long.’

Amber watched as he pulled the living room door shut behind him, her stomach flipping over as she heard Jim push his chair back and come over to her, sitting down beside her.

‘It’s been good, seeing you here. It’s like old times, isn’t it? All of us here, at your dad’s place.’

Amber looked at him, a million emotions clashing inside her head, giving her a headache that now pounded away behind her eyes. ‘This isn’t like old times, Jim. Old times never
were
like this, were they?’

‘They were
exactly
like this, Amber. Me and you, exchanging looks, making each other silent promises when we thought no-one was looking...’

Amber shook her head. ‘You think that’s what’s been happening here? Huh? Really? You couldn’t be further from the truth.’ She put her almost-empty brandy glass down on the side-table, tucking her legs up underneath her, looking straight at him as she spoke. ‘Ryan asked me to move in with him today.’

Jim’s expression changed in an instant, his eyes darkening, his smile disappearing. ‘He asked you to move in with him?’

Amber nodded, suddenly realising that she only had one option left open to her if she was to move forward. An opportunity she had to grab with both hands if she had any chance of leaving the past behind. As much as she could, anyway. And this was a start. ‘Yeah. And I’m about to say yes.’

Chapter Ten

Amber closed the door of her beautiful little semi-detached home behind her, taking one last look at the pink front door she’d loved so much. She’d never thought she’d leave this place; this house had been her sanctuary, but in a couple of hours someone else would be living here. It wasn’t hers to come home to anymore.

‘You okay?’ Ryan asked, slipping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her close, quickly kissing the top of her head.

‘Yeah,’ Amber nodded, hugging his waist. ‘It’s only bricks and mortar, as my dad is so fond of saying. And anyway, I’m only renting it out, aren’t I? It’s not like I’ve lost it forever.’

Ryan swung her round into his arms, sliding his hand into the small of her back as he pushed her against him. ‘No second thoughts, then?’

She smiled, running her fingers lightly over his bearded chin. ‘No. No second thoughts.’ Maybe that was a little white lie but, on the whole, she didn’t really regret the decision to move in with Ryan. Although, she’d put her foot down about moving into his Quayside apartment. She’d never been a fan of open-plan loft living, so the past couple of weeks had been taken up with house hunting as she and Ryan had looked for the perfect home. Although, that probably made things sound a touch more permanent than they actually were. She still couldn’t say that she truly loved him, but she did know that she wanted to be with him. She
needed
to be with him.

They’d finally found a lovely four-bedroom detached house to rent on the outskirts of the city, not that far from her old home. The area was perfect, the house had a good feel about it and it was private enough for Ryan not to be bothered too much. They’d moved in together just over a week ago, and although it was taking some getting used to – neither of them had ever shared a home with a partner before – it was going okay. Things were okay. But it was all going to take time, wasn’t it?
 
It was just going to take time.

Ryan smiled at her, kissing her slowly. ‘I guess we’ve both just got to get used to a different routine, huh?’

She rested her forehead against his, her fingers stroking the back of his neck. ‘Do you think you can manage that, then, Mr. Football Star?’

He shrugged, grinning at her. ‘I’ll give it a go.’

She couldn’t help laughing, playfully punching his arm. ‘Yeah, well, come on.’ She let go of him and headed off down the drive towards Ryan’s car that was parked on the road outside. ‘We’d better make a move. You’re due at Tynebridge soon. We don’t want you late for this afternoon’s match, do we? Especially as you were so kindly given permission to leave the hotel and help me this morning.’

Ryan shoved his hands in his pockets as he followed her to the car. ‘Yeah. Strange that, though, isn’t it?’

Amber swung round to look at him, sensing something in his voice that didn’t sound right. ‘Is something wrong, Ryan?’

He shrugged, pressing his key fob to open the doors of his black Jaguar. ‘If Jim Allen’s so keen to keep us away from distractions before kick-off, then why let one of his players out to help his girlfriend, of all people, on a Saturday morning? It doesn’t add up, Amber. Unless the rumours are true.’

Amber frowned. ‘Rumours?’

‘Some of the lads have heard a few things, that’s all,’ Ryan said, looking down the quiet, typically suburban street that Amber had called home for so long now.

‘And what exactly have they heard?’ Amber asked, stopping him before he got into the car.

Ryan sighed, leaning back against the driver’s door, folding his arms. ‘Just something the boss said.’

‘What, Ryan?’ Just the mention of Jim Allen made Amber feel uneasy. She didn’t know what Ryan was going to tell her, but already she didn’t like the sound of it.
 

He threw his head back, sighing again, closing his eyes for a second or two before looking at Amber. ‘There are rumours flying around that the boss is going to drop me this afternoon.’

Amber felt her blood run cold. ‘Drop you?’

‘Yeah, as in, not play me.’

‘I know what it means, Ryan. You’re not injured, are you?’

He shook his head, staring straight ahead.
 

‘Then why is he dropping you?’ Amber had a good idea why. She just didn’t want to believe it was true.

‘I don’t know, Amber. Alright? And I don’t even know if he
is
going to drop me, it’s just things the lads have heard, that’s all. Can we go now?’

She nodded, standing aside to let him get into the car, taking one last look at her old home before she finally left it behind to carry on with life in her new one. Things really were changing for Amber Sullivan. And she had a feeling not all of those changes were going to run smoothly.

*

‘Shit!’ Ryan shouted, throwing his football boots onto the dressing room floor. ‘What the fuck…?’

‘I want to try a different formation, Ryan…’

‘That’s bollocks, boss. And you fucking know it,’ Ryan hissed, squaring up to Jim Allen.

‘You might want to curb that attitude, kiddo,’ Jim said, his tone cool and calm. ‘Or you could be looking at a longer hiatus than just one game.’

‘Fuck!’ Ryan yelled, turning away, pressing his hands against the tiled wall, his head down as he tried to get it together. ‘I just don’t fucking understand…’

‘This is the way this game works, Ryan,’ Jim went on, leaning back against the table in the centre of the dressing room, his hands in the pockets of his black suit trousers. Jim Allen wasn’t one of those tracksuit-wearing managers, he never had been. He always liked to wear the suit; he liked to look smart, exude a certain air of authority. ‘You know that. It’s nothing personal.’

Ryan closed his eyes, breathing in deep. Something was going on here, something wasn’t right and he didn’t know what it was, exactly, but he’d find out. A club didn’t pay all that money for a striker they desperately needed only to drop him before the season was even halfway through. He’d suck it up for now, because he didn’t want to do anything that could see him slapped with a ban or a hefty fine he could well do without. But this wasn’t the end of it. Far from it.

Ryan turned round and sat down, clasping his hands together between his open knees. ‘Okay. Have it your way. Drop me. I’m not the one who’s got to answer to the board, am I?’

Jim just smiled, folding his arms. ‘They’ll understand that I have to do what I think is right…’

‘But
is
it the right decision, boss?’
Gary
chipped in, pulling his red and white strip down over his head. ‘I mean, we’re woefully lacking up front, which is why the club bought Ryan in the first place…’

Jim threw
Gary
a look that stopped him in his tracks. ‘Keep going, son, and you’ll find yourself on that subs bench next to your friend. I’m giving
Henderson
a chance up front with Yates. I want to see what he’s got. This should be an easy game for us. We’re not playing one of the big boys so we don’t need to go out all-guns-blazing, do we? I can use this opportunity to take a look at a couple of our younger players.’ He turned to Ryan again. ‘After all, a team can’t rely on one person alone, can it?’

Ryan knew Jim wasn’t telling him everything. He wasn’t stupid. He just didn’t get it. Newcastle Red Star had paid a ridiculous amount of money for him because they’d needed him, apparently. Yet all of a sudden Jim Allen thought it was time to drop him in favour of a young and as-yet untried striker who wasn’t even done coming through the
Red
Star
Training
Academy
.

‘Colin’s got a few things he wants to run through with you all due to this change,’ Jim said, shoving his hands back in his pockets as he made to leave the dressing room, looking over at his Head Coach. ‘I’ll be in my office if you need me, Colin.’

Ryan threw his head back and closed his eyes, sighing heavily. Something wasn’t right. But, for once in his life, it was something he couldn’t control. And that’s what frustrated him the most.

*

‘Did
you
know about this?’ Ronnie asked Amber as she joined him in the Players Lounge for a pre-match drink.

‘About what?’ Amber asked, throwing herself down onto one of the comfortable red suede sofas that were dotted about the room.

‘About Jim Allen putting Ryan on the bench this afternoon.’

Amber looked at Ronnie, pushing a hand through her hair. ‘He’s done it, then.’ It wasn’t a question. More a statement of recognition.

Ronnie narrowed his eyes as he looked back at her. ‘You
did
know about it?’

Amber sighed. ‘Ryan told me he’d overheard rumours that Jim might drop him this afternoon. I just can’t believe he’s actually done it.’

‘Why, though?
Why’s
he dropped him?’

‘How the hell should
I
know? I’m not the bloody manager, am I? I don’t know what goes on in his head. He might have a perfectly good reason for doing this.’

‘And you believe that, do you?’

Amber looked at Ronnie for a few seconds, saying nothing. ‘No. I don’t,’ she said, standing up. ‘I won’t be long.’

‘Where are you going? You’ve only just got here… Amber…?’

But Amber wasn’t stopping to chat any longer. She might not be the manager of this club, but even she could see that there was absolutely no reason why Ryan should be dropped from the first team. He wasn’t injured, he wasn’t serving any match-bans; so there was no reason that Amber could see for Jim to have done this. No professional reason, anyway.

‘What the hell is going on?’ Amber asked, closing the door of Jim’s office behind her, not bothering to knock before she barged in, showing no concern that he might have someone in there with him, not even caring that the home dressing room was just opposite and that her raised voice could more-than-likely be heard if it was quiet in there. It was almost like she had some kind of tunnel vision going on.