Previously...

I had many friends amongst the players and the staff that were still there. I had been given a chance by the club to flourish and be a reasonably good player. Now everything was changing because a slime-ball had taken it into his head to ruin me, the club and all that it stood for. Hundreds of thousands of fans around the world supported Melchester. What right had he to try and ruin everything?

I don’t think that it was the money. He had more than he could ever spend in a lifetime. My opinion was that he just got his jollies from power and what he could do with it. He hated women and I was a woman. He probably hated the transgendered community and I allied myself with girls and boys who needed to be who they really were.

The fact that there were still jerks like him in the world made me angry and that anger transplaced the fear to a small extent, but what could I do?

I realised that I couldn’t go on like this. I needed help and I knew that if I didn’t sort this out now, once and for all, I would regret it for the rest of my life.

I took a deep breath, got up, put on my pink silky dressing gown and pink bunny rabbit slippers and walked out of my room.

I knocked on the door.

‘Come in.’

Opening the door, I could see Danni lying on her bed, book in one hand and cup of something in the other.

She looked up and smiled.

‘Hello Susan.’

And now the story continues…

As sat on her bed as I told her everything.

It wasn’t pretty. I felt like an idiot as I spoke. I should have told her in the restaurant. I knew that I was under pressure at the time and hadn’t felt a hundred percent, but to me, I really thought that I had let myself down.

I was crying by the time I had finished telling her. Self loathing was at the top of my thoughts and I didn’t want to look her in the face to see the scorn...

Her finger went under my chin and she gently lifted my face so I was looking into her eyes.

‘Sorry,’ she said, looking sad.

‘You–sorry, why, you did nothing wrong?’

‘Charlotte and I should have gone in there with you.’

‘That was my fault; I didn’t want you to come. Remember?’ Then I added bitterly, ‘I always think that I know best.’

Danni looked at me sadly.

‘We are there to protect you and I don’t think that we did a good job. We should have watched you from outside the toilets if necessary. I stand by what I said. We botched it and in this game, you only get one chance and sometimes not even then. I am going to ask for us to be withdrawn as soon as we can get alternative arrangements in place.’

‘NO!’

‘Why no? We cocked it up. You can’t have much faith I us now. It isn’t the first time that things have gone pear shaped under our watch. At the end of the day, Charlotte and I were responsible for your protection and we let you down.’

I took a deep breath and then looked at her. She looked sad and upset.

‘Danni; tell me honestly. If someone wanted to kill or harm me or my family and they are good at their job, what are the chances that they could carry out what they intend to do?’

She stood up and paced the room, looking faintly ridiculous in her teddy bear Jim-jams.

‘There is always a possibility that you can be targeted. Let’s face it; even American presidents have been assassinated in the past, despite heavy protection. All we can do is limit the opportunities for abduction, assault, harassment and possible attempts on life.’

‘So what you are saying is, even if I was surrounded by protection every day and night of my life, there is always the chance that I could be got at and also the people close to me?’

‘Yes.’

I paused for a moment, trying to put my thoughts together. After a moment I stood up and went over to Danni who was standing by the window and looking out into the darkness.

‘Danni, I want you to stay and help me get through this–no, don’t say anything, I need to tell you. I realize that I am not the ideal person to protect. I’m high profile and have to be ‘out there’ in public places with all the risks that that carries. I’m also sure that there are things that could have been done better, but we learn from our mistakes. My mistake has been that I’m too damned independent for my own good and I need to be careful out there. Your mistake, I think, is to allow me to have a bit too much freedom and leeway and trying not to tread on my toes too much.

‘You did tell me when you started to work with me, that you wanted not to be in my face all the time and allow me as much freedom as possible. Well at the moment, I need a bit of up close and personal protection for me and my family. Would you be able to do this?’

‘Are you sure that you want us to continue?’

‘Yes–please!’

She took a deep breath and went over to the bed. Sitting down, she patted her hand for me to sit next to her.

I sat down and she picked up her phone, speed dialling a number.

Waiting a few moments she then said, ‘Hello, code green,’ and then switched her phone off.

‘Right Sue, this is the situation–and by the way, your parents know all about this and have approved. We would have passed on all the information regarding what we have done and put in place to your new team, but as you have elected to stay with us, this is what’s happening.’

She took a deep breath and continued.

‘I knew when I saw you in the ladies toilet that something was wrong. I had no idea what it was, but assumed that you had problems. When you got into the car outside the restaurant, I made sure that Charlotte was put on alert. She contacted our people and you had additional protection put in place almost immediately. In addition, while you were being taken home in your car, I spoke with the manager of the restaurant and then to Clarridge’s security chief. There are CCTV cameras covering most of the restaurant and hotel including outside. We should have more information by the morning on who it was who assaulted and threatened you, but I would say, almost certainly, she is out of the country by now. That is the way that professionals work. The police have been kept informed of developments and will need to talk to you tomorrow.

‘In addition to this, there will be cover for all your family, around the clock. We mustn’t forget that you have all been threatened, so we can’t take any chances even though it would be stupid for them to carry out their threats. I just think that the bad guys wanted to scare you into doing what they want you to do.

‘Your parents wanted to talk things over with you tonight, but as you were not feeling very well, they just agreed with my assessment and will talk to you tomorrow. The disciplinary meeting has been put on hold, by the way.’

‘Why?’

‘It appears that Hyram has to go back to America and he wanted to be around when your meeting takes place.’

‘To gloat, no doubt.’

‘Not a very nice man, is he? It seems that he has laid off a lot of staff and has cut back on costs. We still don’t know why he’s done this as he would appear to be cutting off his nose to spite his face, but my feeling is, as I think you mentioned , that it isn’t the money but the power to do what he damn well pleases, that gives him pleasure. The man is seriously weird.’

We spoke for a while longer and I agreed, if I felt well enough, that my management team, which included Mummy, Daddy, John Prentiss and Sheila Strong, would have a meeting in the house on the following afternoon; which judging by the fact that it was now after midnight, would be later that day, in fact.

I hugged Danni and said goodnight, finally going back to my room as quickly as possible and then snuggling under the bedclothes.

The fact that I went to sleep almost immediately showed to me that my late night chat with Danni had helped me feel a lot better.

The next day, before my management meeting, I had a talk with my parents.

Claire, Andrea and Monica had all gone to visit an aunt. I promised to keep them up to date with texts and things.

We all sat in the sun room with drinks and some of Mrs Moon’s delish cream cakes as we talked about what happened in the restaurant.

‘I can’t believe it! ‘said Mummy, looking very upset.

Daddy looked like he wanted to do something violent to someone and I didn’t have to guess who.

I then told them what I discussed with Danni at the dead of night. They agreed that we should stick with the security that we had and totally agreed that the extra costs involved with beefing it up would be well worth it.

I looked down at my lap and sighed.

‘What?’ asked Mummy.

‘Why can’t I just be an ordinary girl and why are there people out there always trying to hurt me?’

‘I don’t know honey. Maybe they’re jealous or insecure or just plain nasty. As for you being ordinary; well you have a gift and that is part of you. You are a special girl and you will have to live with it. Anyway, there is no such thing as ordinary or average; everyone is special in their own way.’

Daddy’s phone chirped and he answered it.

I sipped my drink and ear wigged; so did Mummy so I wasn’t being really nosey, was I?

‘Yes...

‘Okay...

‘Did he..?

‘When...are you sure..?

‘I’ll get back to you, bye.’

He put his phone down and said quietly, ‘shit a brick...’

‘Jeffrey!’

He looked up and realised that we were there.

‘Oh, sorry love.’

‘Well,’

‘What?’

‘What’s got your knickers in a twist?’

‘Knickers? I don’t wear knickers; that’s your department.’

I swear Mummy would have thrown her cup at him If I hadn’t have been there.

‘Jeff Tyler, if you don’t tell us what is going on I...I...I’ll bake you a cake and make you eat it!’

Mums baking skills or lack of them were legendary in our family, despite Mrs Moon’s attempts to improve her.

I giggled behind my hand and got ‘the look’, from Mummy.

‘Well?’ she said, turning back to Daddy and giving him the same evil eye treatment.

‘Sorry love, it’s just...look, that was John Prentiss, he has found out that Hyram has been a naughty boy.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘If you let me tell you...right, he has had to go back to the States. It appears that his ex wife, well one of them anyway, I’m not sure if it was number five or six, has made certain allegations about him, cruelty, beatings, and some kinky goings on. She was supposed to have been paid off like his other ex wives, but it appears that his legal team had been trying to use a loophole to stop paying her alimony.’

‘So, what has that got to do with us?’ I asked.

‘Well, my little football superstar...’

‘Daddy!’

‘Sorry. As soon as he stepped off the plane, he was arrested.’

‘What for?’ asked Mummy.

‘Alleged Tax evasion for starters. John, who has contacts over the pond, thinks that that is just a holding charge and the rumour is that he is in deep with the mob and has in the past been suspected of using his business interests as a front for drugs and money laundering.’

‘So?’ I asked, not knowing what effect this had on us. I had this vision of Hyram, wearing nothing but a ten gallon hat, wielding a whip...

‘Well, the league and FA will only allow fit and proper owners and I can’t believe that someone with all this hanging over their head could possibly be allowed to own a club. Stranger things have happened, but there has been a bit of a backlash against foreign ownership lately, and this may mean that they might at least put on hold Hyram’s idea that he can own Melchester. Remember, officially the club is still in the control of John Battersby, even though he is in the pocket of Hyram.’

It was all a bit confusing and to be honest, I had no interest in high finance. All I did know was that I didn’t have to go through a disciplinary hearing at least in the short term, and I just hoped that the things that were happening overseas would mean the future of the club and me too, might improve–only time would tell.

The next several days passed quite quickly. I had an interview with the police who showed me the CCTV footage from Claridges and asked me to confirm if the person filmed going into the Ladies after me was the woman who threatened me.

When I saw her image, I went cold. She gave me shivers even on film. Of course, she hadn’t been traced or even identified. She had vanished into thin air, like she implied she would.

Hyram was still in America; he was out on bail of ten million dollars and he was not allowed out of the country. I hoped that he would never be allowed out again, but wasn’t holding my breath. The man was rich beyond anyone’s wildest dreams, and could afford the best lawyers.

One good thing about his arrest was that the league had put on hold the sale of the club to him. John Battersby was looking increasingly upset about his current situation and was looking for alternative buyers. A consortium which included local businessmen, former players and most importantly, Sandy McPherson were putting a deal together and it looked like there was light at the end of the tunnel regarding the future of our great club.

On a personal level, things had gone a bit quiet. I still wasn’t allowed anywhere near the club, but it looked like things might change in the near future as John Battersby had, very late in the day, decided that he should keep what he called his assets, (that is the players), happy. I was to go to a meeting with him on the following Monday for what he called, deep and meaningful discussions about my future. I wouldn’t be going alone but would have Daddy and John Prentiss with me.

It was one of those weird times when there was no premier league football for two weeks. This was because of the World Cup qualifiers. I had gotten over the effects of the flu and was doing some personal training at home and also at Weatherfield’s training ground. That was thanks to Kenny McPherson, Sandy’s brother. Blood was definitely thicker than water!

It was on Wednesday and I was doing some circuit training at Weatherfield’s and I was feeling good. All signs of my illness had now passed and I felt as fit as a flea– a slightly knackered flea, but you can’t have everything.

I was by myself and doing some rather brutal crunches when Daddy came in with someone I recognised.

I stopped what I was doing and then picked up a towel. Wiping off the sweat, I approached Daddy and the man he was with, who just happened to be the manager of England– Stanislav Anatolyev!

‘Hullo Susan,’ he said.

‘Erm, hello Mr Anato...Anytov...um, boss.’

‘You fit?’

‘Yes.’

‘Want to play?’

‘Yes.’

‘Got injuries in team, bloody fool fell over getting out of bath. Need you. You play?’

‘Football?’

‘Yes.’

‘When?’

‘Saturday.’

‘I’ll be there.’

‘Good.’

With that he just turned and left, but not without a quick smile at us both.

I looked at Daddy and he looked at me and we both just burst out laughing!

So there I was going out at Wembley wearing the white shirt of England. We were playing Hungary, and the two teams had a history. Although not born when it happened, I knew that the statistic of losing 6-3 at the old Wembley in the 1950’s still rankled amongst some supporters. We needed to do well to progress in the competition and it wasn’t a foregone conclusion that we would be able to reach the finals.

I was so pleased to be playing and pulling on the national jersey. With all that had happened to me lately, I didn’t think that I would be playing for my country any time soon. But here I was. I just hoped that I would play well and not fall over my laces.

The lads in the England team welcomed me with open arms. I had played for my country before and although some of my teammates were arch rivals in the league, all that was put aside when we played for our country.

The new Wembley was not the same as the old one. I had never played in the old stadium, but had been there twice as a spectator when I was small. The new stadium was vast and had a terrific atmosphere and I was proud and privileged to be able to play there, although it was hard to get out of my head the fact that Ferris had attacked me and changed my life forever when I had played there last season.

Ben Phillips, the captain was pleased to see me as were other players I knew from before, like Mike Platt and Timmy Frost.

We lined up and then there were the usual anthems and shaking of hands. The the captains did the coin toss thingie we were ready for the off at last.

The stadium was full and the noise generated from our fans and to a lesser extent, the Hungarians, was almost deafening at times.

I knew that my family were in one of the boxes, they were all there, including Mr and Mrs Moon and I really wanted to play well, for them. I felt like giving them a finger wave and then remembered that millions would be watching and the last thing that I wanted was a YouTube moment!

It was an evening kick off and the grass looked very green and harsh under the powerful floodlights. The opposition were tough and they had a good manager in Gregarin. Most of the team played for top flight clubs and were used to winning, so we knew that we had a tough job on our hands to win this one. But we were on home ground and we had most of the support and so we went into the match hoping to do as well as we could.

Mind you, it didn’t help when after three minutes we had a mix up in our penalty area and Bozsic the Bulgarian winger was pulled down in the area and Szabá³ scored an easy penalty.

0-1 to the visitors.

The next ten minutes saw us peppering the Hungarian goal with a number of shots. I managed to bend one and it was only a great save from the keeper that kept it the wrong side of the goal post.

Then, the Hungarians broke away with most of our lads still in and around their penalty area after a corner kick.

It was two against two and Bozsic hammered one past our keeper, Les Phillips.

0-2 and things were not too good for us.

The crowd were almost silent now. Sixteen minutes in and we were already two down. We had to attack, we had no choice and that, we knew, would lead to vulnerability at the back.

A few minutes later, one of our full backs fluffed a clearance and Dobi, a midfielder broke away, avoided two admittedly heavy tackles and fired in at close range.

0-3, it was starting to look like we were in for a hammering.

The manager, not one to hold back, was doing his famous Indian War Dance on the side lines and swearing in what I assumed was Russian. He wasn’t a happy bunny, mind you, nor were we. Stanislav Anatolyev decided enough was enough and he pulled two players off and replaced them with more attacking substitutes. Ben Holness and Mark Frost.

The result was immediate as we seemed to get better and our passing had a lot more cohesion to it.

As far as I was concerned, I had suffered a bit as I lacked match fitness, but as the game progressed and we managed to get our act together, I started to feel the old power come back.

I started darting up and down the field and giving my team a bit more support. To be honest, I wasn’t sure why the boss hadn’t pulled me off but I was grateful and I wanted to show my appreciation the best way I could.

The Hungarians weren’t wall flowers and they went in for heavy physical, crunching tackles and we had the bruises to show it. As per usual, the ref wasn’t on our side and seemed to be doing up his laces or taking something out of his eye when some brute of a Hungarian did one of their neck high tackles which they were famous for.

It was the twenty-sixth minutes and I was feeling like a puppy who wanted her master to throw a ball so that I could go and fetch it. Armstrong one of our midfielders saw me and sent over a lovely pass that landed a few yards in front of me.

A Hungarian with an unpronounceable name that covered most of the back of his shirt, rushed at me like a raging bull going after a matador. I didn’t hang around and darted forward, stabbed the ball forward and sort of leaped over his flailing leg and hared up the pitch.

I saw Mark Frost in the centre and passed the ball to him and in a nice one two movement, I got the ball back and looked up. The goal was about thirty yards way and a couple of Neanderthals–sorry, skilful Hungarians, were rushing at me. I hit the ball as hard as I could, and it swerved around them and the keeper and hit the roof of the net.

‘GOAL!’

1-3 and things were looking up.

I rushed up and picked the ball out of the net, mouthing a sorry to the keeper who wasn’t very happy. With hugs and congratulations from my team, I ran to the center spot and put the ball down. We didn’t have time to waste as there was work to do!

Of course we nearly lost it. They say that the most dangerous time is just after you have scored a goal. The Hungarians, in a swift move, managed to get the ball in the box and a diving header just scraped the outside of the post.

Honours were even for the rest of the half, with chances for both teams but the whole of our team, including yours truly, had seemed to go off the boil a bit. I was pleased when the whistle came for half time as I was once again feeling it a bit. The team talk in the dressing room was given by Mike Grady, the assistant team coach, as the manager’s English wasn’t that great, but the gist was; use the wings, the full backs should overlap and we should be more aggressive in all departments–in short, get your fingers out.

I was asked if I could carry on for a while and of course, I said yes. I expected to be pulled off before the end though. I needed more matches for me to be functioning at a hundred percent.

The second half started strangely. Mike Todd pulled down a Hungarian just outside the box and got sent off–a nice start. As I stood in the wall, almost by habit I covered my groin like the rest of the lads. I had nothing there, but I couldn’t forget the match when my male bits were thumped and what happened afterwards.

Anyway, the free kick was a waste of time as it was fired well over the bar, to jeers from our loyal supporters.

So we were down to ten men and had an uphill climb to get anywhere that day.

It was funny though, having ten players on the pitch didn’t seem to hamper us in any way. In fact we started playing much better. I at last got my finger out and started to spray the ball about to anyone who needed it. Others were playing out of their skins as well, and soon we were all over them like a rash.

We had corner after corner and on one such corner, Mark Frost rose above everyone and headed a marvellous goal which had the keeper flapping his arms like a windmill.

‘GOAL!’

2-3 and everything to play for.

There was more pressure from the Hungarians after that as they took advantage of more space due to the fact that we had lost a man. We weathered more storms and it was one such attack that backfired on them. They had a corner which was cleared by our keeper. As per usual, I didn’t do the up close and personal thing in the penalty area as my height or lack of it wasn’t much use, and anyway some of those boys weren’t gentlemen. I was just standing there about ten yards outside the box, trying to look dangerous and failing miserably, when the ball whistled towards me. I looked around and noticed that I was in a Neanderthal Free Zone.

I gave a little ‘whoop’ noise, stopped the ball with my chest, said ‘ouch’, as the part of my chest it hit was an almost fully grown booblette and then I just ran down the pitch, the ball almost stuck to my feet.

Have you ever been to greyhound racing? Well you get this cute little furry stuffed hare and it goes off on some sort of wire thingie and a whole load of greyhounds for some reason chase after it.

I was the hare and the hounds were after me.

The crowd were going mad and I heard cries of look behind you. I didn’t want to do that as I might have wet my knickers. I just carried on and on and on, my breath becoming short and my legs just beginning to feel as if they weren’t really part of me. I had visions of me in a bubble bath relaxing my tired aching muscles with Andrea up the other end doing things with her toes that were slightly naughty, when all of a sudden I reached the penalty area and all such visions vanished as the Hungarian keeper, seven foot tall and four foot wide–or so he seemed, came out at me like an express train.

I decided to be clever and do a jink but nearly landed on my face, so I righted myself somehow and tried something different in the nanosecond that I had left before I was mown down by the keeper. Suddenly I heard and felt hot Hungarian breath behind me. The hoards were upon me. I side stepped, stopped suddenly and the keeper and defender crashed into each other. I could feel the earth tremble. I then swerved around the bodies and calmly swept the ball in the net with the side of my foot.

‘GOAL!’

3-3 and ten minutes to play.

After that, the Hungarians seemed to give up the fight. They didn’t seem as fit as us (apart from me) and it showed. We started stroking the ball about and I was still on the pitch. They were a spirited bunch though and had obviously decided that they would settle for a draw. They had everyone in their area and stopped everything we threw at them. I hit the crossbar from distance and a few of the others had shots blocked off the line.

One minute into extra time and the ref kept looking at his watch. This takes longer to explain than the actual time it took.

I had the ball and passed it to one of our outfield players and then ran through the middle.

I say ran, it was more like a waddle. I was going so slow, a tortoise could have gone past me.

You get the picture.

Anyway, somehow with super girlie effort, I managed to reach the ball before anyone else. The goal was about thirty yards away and none of my teammates were in a position to help due to the fact that the linesman–sorry assistant referee–didn’t like us and was obviously in the pay of the Hungarian Mafia. I lost count the amount of times he ruled us offside...anyway, I was the only English player anywhere near the goal. And my legs had almost given up the ghost. I looked up, saw the goalie off his line and then just thumped the ball as hard as I could and sent it on its way. I was more surprised than anyone when it sailed in on the angle of the crossbar and goalpost.

‘GOAL!’

4-3 and we were leading!

The crowd went bananas, my team went all kissy hugs and the manager looked like he was about to have some sort of seizure.

Shortly after that, the whistle blew for full time and the game was over. We had won and I had managed to get a hat-trick!

I had my bubble bath that night. It was nice and soothing. Andrea wasn’t in with me though, which was a bit of a downer, but I did have the match ball, which was bobbing up and down in there, so it wasn’t all bad!

To be continued...

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