We're the Dream Team, Right? Read online

  There was a long gap as everyone waited for a response – but I didn’t know what to say. This was exactly why I needed Amy here, so she could come out with something funny or sarcastic and draw attention away from me.

  Instead it was Hannah who saved me. “OK, girls. Let’s have some shooting practice,” she called.

  “Me first!” Eve cried and charged forward. Everyone followed.

  For the next ten minutes we concentrated so hard that conversation fizzled out and then it was time for the match to start. My heart began pumping, all else forgotten. This was what I loved. Hearing the whistle blow and watching the ball, waiting for the sound it makes when it connects with someone’s boot. That first touch. And then the play: the chasing, the chances, the surge of power and energy that courses through your whole body as you turn and leave a defender standing. Nothing else I did, at home or at school, came near to the exhilaration I felt playing football.

  Hannah put me in my usual central midfield spot with Jenny-Jane on my right and Tabinda on my left and Eve up front. “OK,” Hannah said as we huddled round. “This is the toughest, most testing part of the season, when it’s cold and miserable and the pitches are in poor condition and it—”

  “Snows,” Megan said as a huge snowflake landed on her nose.

  Everyone looked up at the sky. It was like a thick grey duvet waiting to burst.

  “Nah! That’s not snow; it’s dandruff,” Katie said, making us laugh.

  Hannah clapped her hands together as the referee, one of the Tigers coaches, motioned to show he was ready. “Come on, Parrs. Let’s have a good game!” she ordered.

  4

  We had a very good game for about fifteen minutes. Jenny-Jane held the right wing, sending some great crosses into the area for Eve and me. Eve scored twice from those. She scored a third after we’d made a run from deep in our half, passing the ball back and forth between the two of us until we were in front of the goal and all she needed to do was tap it in. “The Dream Team strikes again!” she yelled as she gave me such a forceful high five my hand tingled for ages afterwards.

  I scored twice. The first was from the halfway line and the second was from a header. From then on the game became a bit one-sided as we were allowed most of the possession. After shaking off two of their defenders I heard one say to the other, “I hate her. She’s too good.” I wasn’t at all – it was just that they gave in too easily. But after that I held back a bit, so I wouldn’t draw more attention to myself. It made the game a bit boring, to be honest. I thrived in matches where I felt challenged, like when we played Grove Belles or the Vixens. “Come on, you lot! Liven up!” the Tigers coach kept calling out to them.

  The only thing that livened up was the snow. It was falling more heavily now, swirling around us as if joining in with the action. Soon it became difficult to see; flakes kept landing on my eyelashes and I had to blink them away every few seconds. The whiteness was dazzling, and eventually the referee blew his whistle and held his arm up for us to stop play. “A word with the coaches, please,” he said.

  “I don’t see what he’s stopped the game for,” Jenny-Jane complained as we waited to see what was happening. “I was enjoying that.”

  “I think it’s something to do with us not being able to see the ball, doofus,” Megan told her, pulling off the bandana she always wore and wringing it out.

  “What happens if it’s called off?” Petra asked.

  “We go home and eat biscuits,” Lucy said.

  “What about the five goals, though? Don’t they count?”

  “Nope. We have to replay the match from scratch another time.”

  “That’s not fair,” Petra grumbled.

  Fair or not, that’s what happened.

  “Sorry, girls, match abandoned,” Hannah said. “That snow means business…”

  “And there’s no business like snow business!” Eve quipped.

  “Into the changing rooms, quick,” Hannah said, ushering us inside. “Get wrapped up and if anyone needs to borrow my mobile to call their parents let me know. I’ll be next door in the communal area with Katie. Nobody leaves alone, OK?”

  Eve and I weren’t worried at first. We stayed in the changing rooms and chatted about the match, but after a quarter of an hour, when Mrs Akboh still hadn’t arrived, we joined Hannah and Katie. They were sitting around a small wooden table, feet up, cups of coffee in their hands, chatting with the Tigers coaches. They all stopped when they saw us and smiled.

  “Speak of the devil,” Hannah said, looking straight at me. “We were just talking about you.”

  My heart sank. I hate it when people say things like that. I’d be happy to go through life with nobody ever talking about me at all.

  The Tigers coach grinned at me. “One question, Gemma. Are you Marta in disguise?”

  “Sorry?”

  “Kayleigh thinks you’re as ace as Marta, FIFA’s Player of the Year,” Hannah explained. “She reckons even in a snowstorm your talent shines through.”

  I glanced at the coach and gave her a polite smile.

  “Yep. There’s definitely a touch of class about you, Gemma Hurst,” Kayleigh said. “Where does that come from? Mum? Dad?”

  “Nowhere,” I said, my skin prickling.

  The other coach, who’d been the referee, took a slurp of his coffee. “Maybe she’s related to Geoff Hurst!” he suggested.

  Kayleigh laughed. “Shaun, she’s not going to know who Geoff Hurst is.”

  He winked at me. “Don’t patronize her. I bet she does.”

  He was right. I knew exactly who Sir Geoff Hurst was. He’s best known for scoring a hat-trick in the 1966 World Cup Final against Germany, but he’s also one of West Ham’s all-time greatest players. Not that I would ever admit I knew that. This conversation was heading in a dangerous direction and I could feel myself shutting down inside. Again I wished Amy was with me. How wrong she’d been about me not needing her today! I glanced at Eve, desperate for her to say something instead.

  She did the next best thing. Her mobile’s ringtone belted out to the tune of Jingle Bells, making everyone laugh and giving me an excuse to disappear.

  “I’m just going to the loo,” I said as she answered it.

  I stayed in the toilets for as long as I could, hoping that by the time I came out Mrs Akboh would be waiting for us and I could go home. No such luck. I returned to find everyone fussing around Eve and looking concerned.

  “My mum’s broken down on the motorway,” Eve said, her eyes brimming with tears and her bottom lip quivering. “She’s on her own and it will be at least an hour before the AA get to her because of the snow.”

  “Your mum’ll be fine,” Hannah reassured her. “They’ll give her priority.”

  “Will they?” Eve asked, sounding doubtful.

  “Absolutely. Lone women drivers always get priority.”

  Katie backed her up. “It’s true.”

  Eve wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “Good, because I’m one parent down already. I can’t lose another.” (Eve’s dad died when she was little.)

  Hannah gave her a brief hug. “Hey, don’t say that, you muppet! Your mum’s not in any danger. She’ll be home before you know it.”

  “Definitely,” I said, wanting to help.

  “Trouble is we’ve got to lock up,” Shaun told us, glancing at his watch.

  “And we’re supposed to be going to see friends in Manchester,” Katie moaned, frowning at the snow swirling outside.

  “Er… Well … I could call my mum and ask her to come and get us,” I suggested.

  That cheered Eve up. “She did say that, didn’t she?”

  “Yes, she did,” I replied. Not that she expected us to take her up on it.

  “Here, use my mobile,” Eve said, thrusting her phone under my nose before I had a chance to reach for mine. “The Dream Team helping each other out in emergencies.” She stood over me as I laboriously punched in Mum’s number. “What will we do for two hours
? Will I be allowed to sell kitchens?” she asked, breathing over my shoulder.

  “No way,” I said, trying not to think how Mum was going to react as I concentrated on the unfamiliar keypad. “We’ll probably have to stay in the staff room.”

  “I don’t mind.”

  “If you need a lift to the shop I can take you. I’m passing the shopping centre on the way,” Katie offered just as Mum answered. I nodded gratefully. At least Mum wouldn’t have to leave the shop, so that was one less thing to worry about.

  “No need,” Mum said when I explained what had happened. “Dad’s just dropped some stuff off for me about five minutes from Cuddlethorpe. He’ll come there and get you.”

  My head felt as if a dozen fire bells had been triggered inside it. “Dad? Isn’t he fishing?” I asked, far too loudly.

  “No, he isn’t,” Mum replied, trying not to sound exasperated with me and failing. “So he will pick you up and take you both straight home.”

  The alarm bells were deafening now and sending my pulse racing. Being with Eve in the shop was one thing. Being with Eve at my house, with my dad, was a different ball game altogether. “It’s OK; Katie’s passing right by…”

  “Dad will pick you up and take you both straight home,” Mum repeated firmly. She broke off to pass instructions to someone and then came back to the phone. “Gemma?”

  “Yes.”

  “I need to hang up now so I can call him.”

  “Please don’t,” I begged, wishing I’d made the call on my own phone and in the privacy of the changing rooms. “Let us come to the shop. We’ll be…”

  “No, Gemma. I’m swamped here and who knows what the weather will be like in another hour. Eve’s much better off waiting at home with you.”

  I lowered my voice so the others wouldn’t hear the desperation in it. “Mum…”

  She sighed and her tone softened. “This was bound to happen at some stage, honey. It’s for the best, trust me.”

  “But, Mum…” Waves of panic were breaking over me.

  “I’m sure nobody will recognize him,” she continued. “The dreadlocks throw people every time.”

  “Not every time,” I muttered, remembering the two guys who’d stopped us in Bluewater at Christmas.

  Her tough-love voice returned. “It’s non-negotiable, Gemma. I’m sorry,” she said, and hung up.

  I handed Eve her phone back.

  “You OK?” she asked, looking at me curiously.

  The fire bells gave one last, pathetic clang and stopped, knowing to continue was pointless. “Yes,” I fibbed.

  “So … am I giving you two a lift?” Katie asked.

  I cleared my throat and attempted a smile that I’m sure looked more like a grimace. “No,” I said. “It’s OK. My … my dad’s on his way.” I blinked in disbelief that those words had just left my mouth.

  5

  I guess by now you think I’m deeply strange. What’s the big deal about having a friend back to your house, right? I mean, ten-year-olds do that all the time, don’t they? It’s not as if my dad’s an axe murderer or anything, and it’s not as if Eve’s one, either. I know all that. It’s just the two of them together … this was not good. Not good at all. Unless I could stall Eve somehow, or at least steer the conversation away from fishing and football… I swallowed. The thought of me steering a conversation anywhere was a joke.

  And what seemed like five seconds after the phone call, Dad pulled up in the SUV and honked his horn.

  “Is that him?” Eve squealed, standing on tiptoes, so she could get a better view through the window. “Woah!” she cried when I nodded. “Monster trucks!”

  Dad turned round as I got in the car. Our eyes locked for a second. “All right?” he asked.

  “Not really,” I replied.

  He tried to give me a reassuring smile as if to say “it’ll be fine”.

  One thing I knew for sure: this would not be fine.

  Dad turned to Eve then. She’d just climbed in, after barely waving to Hannah and Katie. He beamed at her. “Hey! I’m guessing you’re Eve? How’re you doing?”

  I tensed, waiting for Eve to start her barrage of questions, but amazingly she only managed a brief “I’m good, thank you,” that even I had to strain to hear. In fact, that’s the most she managed for much of the journey. I’d never known her so quiet. It unnerved me more than her constant chattering. When Dad stopped talking to concentrate on the road, I tried to fill in the silence with my own pathetic questions such as “It’s annoying about the snow, isn’t it?” (yes) and “What’s your favourite colour?” (orange). Really lame stuff.

  It wasn’t until we reached Toft’s Hill that my team-mate found her voice. “They call this Toff’s Hill near us,” she announced when she read the street sign.

  “Yes, I know,” I replied. I’d been teased about it at school enough, even by girls with bigger houses than ours.

  “Is it true that everyone who lives up here is a millionaire?” she asked me, her eyes flicking to the back of my dad’s head.

  “No.” I sighed. I’d heard that one, too.

  Dad chimed in. “Not everyone,” he told her. “The Russian guy at number three’s a billionaire.”

  “No way!” Eve gushed.

  “Straight up,” Dad said, thinking he was being funny.

  “Don’t listen to him,” I snapped. “He’s just winding you up.”

  “Oh,” she said and broke into a grin. “I knew that!”

  “There’s not a castle on Castle Heights, either. It was just named after a family called Castle,” I added, wishing my voice didn’t sound so brittle, but the nearer we got to the house, the more tense I was becoming – if such a thing were possible.

  “Got you,” Eve said. She gazed out of the window. “But the houses look like mini castles,” she added in a hushed voice when we turned into the complex. Her head was swivelling from side to side as she took in the snow-topped walls and security fencing that surrounded each property. “Even your gate’s like a portcullis.”

  It was a fair point.

  Inside, it was easier getting Eve upstairs and out of Dad’s way than I’d thought it would be. It turned out she’d always wondered what my bedroom was like. She started at my dressing table, then moved across to my bedside cabinet, not trying one bit to hide how curious she was about my things. In the end she must have seen every corner of my bedroom, from the revision books on my desk to the clothes in my wardrobe, to the posters on my wall. I didn’t really mind. Having Eve upstairs was way preferable to having her downstairs. “I didn’t know you were into astronomy,” she said, striding over to the telescope by my window.

  “Er… Yeah,” I replied as she ducked to squint through the lens.

  “How come it’s trained on the gates and not the stars?”

  “Dunno. Must have knocked it out of position.”

  “Oh.”

  I braced myself for more questions, but she’d lost interest and bounded across the floor. “What’s in here? More clothes?” she asked, pushing open the door to my en suite. She gasped. “Oh! You’ve got your own bathroom!”

  “Yes. It’s only small…”

  “Small? There’s a shower and everything!” She disappeared inside. “Oh, I would give anything for my own bathroom. Or one I just share with Mum. Do you know how disgusting boys are in bathrooms?” She peeked into my bathroom cabinet, sniffed my cocoa butter hand lotion and then turned to look at me. “You are so lucky.”

  “I know,” I replied.

  Eve returned for another snoop around my desk, then cast her eyes around the whole room. “Where are all your trophies?”

  “What?”

  “Your football trophies?”

  I hadn’t seen that one coming. “I … er … I don’t put them out.”

  “What? Why?”

  “They get too dusty.”

  “But you won Coaches’ Player of the Season. Dust wouldn’t dare gather on that.”

  “Well, it does.
”

  She frowned. “It wouldn’t in my house. Me and Mr Sheen would be on the case.” She paused. “Couldn’t your servants polish them?”

  “We don’t have servants!” I gasped.

  “Whatever.” She shrugged and then asked if she could look in my en suite again.

  “Help yourself.”

  When she disappeared I glanced at my bedside clock. Please come quick, Mrs Akboh, I thought.

  She didn’t. By the time Dad called upstairs to tell us lunch was ready, I was sure Eve could have recited all of my possessions off by heart, in alphabetical order. If I hadn’t been so on edge, I’d have found it funny.

  “I’ll go fetch the food,” I said. “You can play on my Nintendo if you like.”

  I should have guessed she’d decline. “No, I’ll come with you. I want to see what a real Hurst’s Modern Kitchen of Mowborough kitchen is like!”

  “OK.” I sighed. “But please don’t talk football with Dad,” I added as though it was an afterthought. “He gets bored.”

  “No problem. I’ll stick to fishing.”

  “Don’t mention that, either.”

  “O-kaaay. Have you got a list of stuff I can talk about anywhere?”

  I forced a smile. “Oh, Eve. You crack me up!”

  “I get that a lot.” She grinned.

  6

  In the kitchen, Caspar and Jake were eager to make friends with our unexpected visitor, pawing at her knees so she’d pay them attention. “Oh, they’re so sweet,” she said. “I want a dog, but Mum won’t let me because we’re out all day.”

  “That makes sense,” Dad said, dishing hot tomato soup into beakers for us.

  “Who looks after them when you’re at work, Mr Hurst?” Eve asked.

  “Call me Kriss,” Dad told her.

  “Thanks; I will!” Eve replied warmly.

  “I don’t go out to work,” Dad told her. “This is my work. I am a housewife or househusband or lazy geezer, depending on which way you look at it.”

  “Really? Have you never had a proper job?”

  “Ouch!” Dad laughed and pretended to pull a knife from his heart.

  “Was I being cheeky?” Eve asked, tugging nervously at her earlobe. “Mum says I am without knowing it half the time.”