Michelle Betham - Striker

‘I won’t ask what you’re smiling about because you’ll probably tell me,’ Kevin said, throwing a pile of post onto Amber’s desk as she sat down, swinging her chair round to face her laptop. ‘I take it you’re going to the match this afternoon?’

‘Oh, you’re not gonna make me work, are you?’ Amber groaned. She really wanted to go to Tynebridge that afternoon and just watch a game of football without knowing she had work to do, too.

‘Chill out, will you? You’re free to go whenever you want. I didn’t even need you in this morning, if you must know.’

‘Yeah, well, I wanted to get this report done before Monday. And I’ve got an interview at the cricket ground to sort out for next week that I’d rather get out of the way now. That’s the only reason I’m here.’

Kevin sat down on the edge of her desk, folding his arms.

Amber looked at him, frowning slightly. ‘Do you want something, Kevin?’

‘Is everything alright?’

Amber sat back, crossing her legs, resting one elbow on the desk beside her, tapping the nails of her other hand on the arm of her chair. ‘What’s the matter? Come on, you’ve got that “ I’m about to give you a bit of a talking to ” look on your face.’

‘Are you coping okay with all this publicity you and Ryan Fisher are getting at the minute?’

Amber glanced briefly out of the window, watching the steady stream of Saturday morning traffic flowing past the News North East offices. ‘I don’t like it, but, yeah…’ She turned her attention back to Kevin. ‘Why? Have you got a problem with it?’

Kevin shook his head, almost too defensively, Amber thought. ‘No. No, I don’t have a problem with it. Why would I have a problem with it?’

‘I don’t know,’ Amber said, chewing on the end of her biro as she stared at Kevin. ‘Why would you?’

Kevin looked down at the floor for a few seconds before meeting Amber’s eyes again, coughing quickly. ‘I know I made a joke out of things in the beginning, telling you to get closer to Ryan because it might benefit us, but…’

Amber couldn’t help smiling. She and Kevin Russell had known each other a long time – ever since she’d joined News North East as a young trainee – and despite their often clashing personalities, she cared a lot about him. And she knew he cared about her, too. He just had trouble expressing his real feelings.

‘Kevin, I’m fine. Okay? I know what I’m doing, I know the kind of person Ryan is, and I’m well aware of his reputation. So I don’t need another “dad” on my back. Alright?’

He looked at her, a sideways smile starting to appear at the corners of his mouth. ‘You sure?’

‘I’m sure,’ Amber replied, still smiling as she swung her chair back round to face her now fired-up laptop. ‘Now, go on, get off my desk. I’ve got work to do.’

Opening up her emails, Amber scanned the list to see which, if any, required urgent attention, but the sound of her phone ringing distracted her almost immediately. She picked up and pressed answer without checking the caller’s number, and the second she heard his voice she knew that had been a mistake. ‘Hello, Amber.’

‘Who gave you my number?’ Amber asked, her voice almost a whisper.

‘Come on, honey. Your dad gave it to me. We’re old friends, baby, remember? He just wants us all to stay in touch this time.’

‘You aren’t being fair, Jim,’ Amber carried on through gritted teeth, leaning forward, desperate to make sure nobody overheard this conversation.

‘I just want to get to know you again, Amber. What’s so wrong with that? It’s been so long … too long… Look, I’m back now and there isn’t really anything you can do about that, so why don’t we start again, huh? Start over.’

‘Because I can’t do that, Jim. I can’t start over, I can’t begin again. I can’t do that. So just let me deal with this in my own way, alright? And that means leaving me alone.’

She ended the call and threw her phone down onto the desk, dropping her head into her hands. Jim Allen wasn’t going to go away, she wasn’t stupid. He was back, and it was something she was just going to have to deal with. She just didn’t know how to, yet. She just didn’t know how.

Ryan watched as his laptop screen sprang to life, his heart racing. He was alone in the hotel room, but that could change at any time. Jim Allen had a strict ban on computer use on the day of a match – he even confiscated everyone’s mobile phones for the last few hours leading up to kick-off. They were too much of a distraction as far as he was concerned. Nobody should be thinking about anything other than the match ahead. But Ryan had sneaked his laptop in, burying it under a pile of clothes at the bottom of his holdall. He was big enough to be able to decide what was considered a distraction, and right now, sitting there with nothing to do and nowhere to go until they were called for a team lunch at midday, the silence was a bigger distraction than the internet could ever be.

He looked at the computer screen, his fingers flying over the keyboard as he logged into his account, but for some reason he just couldn’t bring himself to do what he’d intended to do, so he quickly logged off and threw himself down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. He wished Amber was with him. She’d be able to take his mind off things, even though pre-match sex was usually way off-limits. It wasn’t something that was encouraged because it could have a habit of draining vital energy needed to kick the arses of whomever you happened to be playing later. Shit! Ryan wasn’t handling this well at all today. He was usually so focused, so totally fixed on nothing but the football, so why was he suddenly distracted? It all felt too familiar, too much of a sense of déjà vu and that only served to make Ryan nervous. He’d thought he was dealing with this. He’d thought he could do it.

A knock at the door made him almost jump out of his skin and he sat bolt upright, shoving his laptop underneath a pillow as Gary popped his head round the door. ‘Hey, you alright? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost?’

‘I was… I was asleep. I woke up with a bit of a start, that’s all.’

‘Sorry, mate. But it’s lunchtime. The boss wants us all downstairs in five. Okay?’

Ryan smiled, standing up and running a hand through his dark hair. ‘Yeah. Okay.’

It was time to get his focus back. He had a match to play, and everything else had to be put to the back of his mind – for now, at least.

‘Hey, you,’ Amber smiled, kissing Ronnie on both cheeks as she joined him at the bar in the Players’ Lounge at Tynebridge for a pre-match drink. ‘It’s so good to see you.’

‘And you, kiddo,’ Ronnie smiled back, giving her a big hug. ‘It makes a change for us both to be able to enjoy a match without either of us being here in a professional capacity.’

Amber leaned over the bar, ordering them both bottles of lager. If neither of them were working, then there was no reason why they shouldn’t kick back and enjoy the afternoon. ‘You’re not here to babysit me, are you?’ Amber asked, looking at Ronnie with a slightly suspicious expression as she slid up onto a barstool.

‘Jesus, you’re a bit paranoid, aren’t you?’ Ronnie laughed, leaning back against the bar and folding his arms. ‘Why? Do you need babysitting?’

Amber stuck her tongue out at him, taking a swig of lager straight from the bottle.

‘Everything still going okay with you and Roy of the Rovers?’

‘Yes, thank you,’ Amber smiled, scanning the room to see if there was anyone else in there she recognised. ‘Everything is just fine.’