Into The Team (4 page)

The house was located three miles from the training ground. It was less of a house and more of a mansion, within spacious grounds, behind high walls with an automatic gate that sensed approaching cars and read number plates before allowing entry.

Todd was walking on air when they arrived at six PM. Wayne had driven him back to Blackmoor in his BMW after lunch, and allowed him half an hour to collect a few personal items before saying goodbye to his puzzled looking mother and sister. He didn’t have time to see Cherrie, but he would call her later to break the news.

With just a few of his own clothes packed into one sports bag, he felt a little light, but Wayne assured him all the new trainees were given a full set of clothes provided by the club and that he wouldn’t need much anyway because he’d be training six days a week.

Leaving the car, Wayne took him to the door. Much of the lower part of the house was hidden behind thick shrubs and small trees, giving it a private feel. The front door was within a large porch.

Wayne took him inside to a wide hallway. The first thing Todd noticed was a massive photograph of the team
on the wall beneath a wooden banister that ran up the stairway. He gazed at it, seeing the prime of the club looking confident and sure for the camera.

Jason Collier, the older and more experienced striker, frowned out from his place next to Sean Thompson, the slightly younger but just as hard looking counterpart. There were the younger, fresher faced lads like Kieran Lewis with his short, spiky hair and boyish looks, and the chiseled face of Daryl Atkins, the one who modeled for designer brands and had girls dazzled by his sunshine hair that curled gently across his forehead and around his ears, giving him a blonde, Adonis look. Todd suspected Atkins would disappear into the realm of celebrity in the coming years. He’d make too much money from advertising and probably make a film or two and become too full of himself to get dirty on a soccer field. Although, he was one of the clubs top goal scorers....

Oh, and not to mention the great Wayne, standing confidently at the side holding the ball. The club’s captain.

“Come on lad, it won’t be long till you’re on one of those photographs.”

Todd turned to find the real Wayne stood  at the foot of the stairs. He hurried after him.

Todd’s room was the last door at the end of a long hallway that split in both directions from the top of the stairs. Inside, it smelt fresh with lavender, as if someone had been out picking it today.

“Lavender aids a restful sleep,” Wayne told him, when Todd sniffed the air. He indicated a vase on the windowsill filled with flakes and twigs. “And sleep is what you’ll need a lot of, all reserves have to be in bed by ten PM.”

Todd gazed around the room.

A double bed, quilted and made, stood before two wardrobes. Opening the nearest door revealed hangers draped with clothes giving that unmistakable scent of unworn cleanliness.

“You’ve got sportswear and casual wear, several pairs of football boots, and a blue designer suit,” Wayne said. “All in your size.”

The walls were a plain crème color, and each surface was free of dust. A bedside table with a glass top gleamed in the light from the window. The carpet was dark blue and spotless, making it look like someone had been hard at work all day.

“Most importantly…” Wayne nodded to the alarm clock on the bedside table. “It’s set for six AM. You get up and have breakfast. A bus will be waiting outside at six forty-five, and it’ll have you at The Valley by seven.”

Todd nodded and looked through the window. He was at the back of the house, overlooking an open lawn where several lads kicked a ball to each other.

Wayne stepped forward, shook his hand and smiled.

“It’s good to have you on my team.” He winked. “Don’t be late tomorrow. I’ll see you then.” He turned and left the room.

Suddenly alone, Todd sat on the bed. His bed. Firm. Brand new. Plush pillows. He leaned back and his head sunk well in. He figured they were stuffed with duck feathers. The smell was warm.

He wondered who had picked out all the clothes in the wardrobe so went to investigate. When he found them to bear the labels of all those brands the Reds had endorsed, he figured the club had a free supply at the click of a finger.

As he gazed at the fresh smelling material that hung oblivious before him, he couldn’t help but wonder how he’d reached this point. Was he really here? And if he was, who had put him here?

Wayne Maxwell had been the one to drive him here. Miles Dixon had been the one to spot him and set up today’s meeting. But those two men, no matter how much they impressed Todd, could not claim the honor of getting him here. Only one man had set that ball rolling for Todd, and he was long gone now.

“Hi.”

A knock at the door made him turn away from his new clothes. Standing just inside, with a serious smile, was a young lad with dark brown hair resting just short of his ears.

“I’m Trent,” he said. “Trent Powers.”

Todd recognized the name instantly, and took just a few seconds more to realize the clean-shaven and neatly dressed guy in front of him was the same one he’d seen in a Reds shirt playing several matches during the years.

Trent watched him, a slight look of mystery in his eyes, as if checking out a new breed of animal. He lost his serious look and a small dimple pierced his cheek.

Todd had seen Trent on the bench for a few of the Reds main matches, so he wasn’t just a reserve, but he wasn’t as well known as Wayne Maxwell. With a newfound confidence, Todd stepped forward to shake hands.

“I’m Todd.” He smiled.

“Yeah, I know.” Trent nodded. “We’ve been waiting for you to arrive. The boss came by and told us to prepare for you. We’ve been busy sorting this room for the last hour.”

Todd was a little surprised and gestured around the well-made bed, the spotless carpet.

“You did all this?”

“Yeah.” Trent came further in and nodded at the wardrobes. “The boss makes sure we pull our weight in the house. There’s a maid who comes once in the morning to do the bathrooms and communal areas, but we have to do our rooms ourselves.”

“Thanks. It’s great.” Todd smiled.

They were silent for a moment while Trent studied him.

“The boss tells us you’re from Blackmoor,” he remarked.

Todd nodded.

“I’m from Lowcroft,” Trent said. “It’s not far from Blackmoor.”

Lowcroft was another one of the forgotten towns of the north, and Todd remembered the day when he’d learned of the lad from that town being picked to play for the Reds. It had been some news to hear, and had generated talk amongst Todd and the Pits players. For a moment he couldn’t quite believe he was one of those lads now.

“Do you want to come and meet the others, or wait till tomorrow? I bet you’re tired after the day.”

“I’m fine for a few hours,” Todd said, eager to know who he was going to be living and training with.

“Great. I’ll show you around.”

Although friendly, Trent seemed a little formal. Todd figured the guy was curious but uncertain of the newcomer, and so he decided to play it cautious. He followed Trent down the corridor and made small talk when required.

The house was immaculate. There was a TV room with three double sofas finished in crushed velvet. The dining room table was thick mahogany, and large enough for ten. The kitchen was spacious enough to allow all seven players to cook at once. With two hobs, two large fridges, and four microwaves, Todd wondered how confusing it would get when they were all rushing around at breakfast time.

The pool was in the basement, and Trent led him down the steps from the kitchen. As he descended, a warming of the air stroked his skin and the smell of chlorine grew strong. At the bottom of the steps, Trent opened a door and there sat a fifteen by ten meter pool. Two of the lads were doing the front crawl, looking like they were racing.

“That’s Gavin with the blue shorts on,” Trent said. “Jake’s in the red. You know Jake Summers?”

Todd hadn’t heard of him but nodded.

To the side of the pool was a glass door that looked like it led to a sauna or steam room. There was a Jacuzzi at the far end, bubbling and steaming. It appeared big enough to fit half a team. A series of showers lined the near wall and to the left of the stairs was a stack of clean white towels.

“Hey, it’s the new boy!”

Todd turned back to the pool to see Jake’s head poking out of the water. His fresh, giddy smile seemed to invade his wet face. Next to him Gavin bobbed about, gazing across the water with a blank set of eyes.

“Come and join us, Todd!” Jake called. “The water’s great. And it’ll be a good way to wind down your day.”

Trent looked at Todd with an inquisitive glint in his eyes.

“Fancy a swim?”

“I don’t have anything to change into,” Todd said, gesturing his jeans and shirt.

Trent winked and wandered to a set of cupboards beneath the unit where all the towels were stacked. Opening up, he fished out several pairs of trunks.

“These get collected and washed each morning by the maid, so don’t worry, they’re all clean.” He handed a black pair to Todd and took out a blue pair for himself. “We usually have a swim each evening before bed, it relaxes the muscles.”

Todd liked the idea; his muscles could do with relaxing. He pulled off his shirt and unbuttoned his jeans as Trent slipped out of his clothes.

Pulling on the trunks wasn’t easy - they were a little tight - but he packed himself into them.

Diving in after Trent, the warm water caressed every muscle in Todd’s body. It was a well-heated pool and already he felt relaxed.

They swam to the other end where Gavin and Jake rested against the side.

“We’ve been talking about you all afternoon,” Jake said with friendly eyes. “You’re supposed to be the best player Dixon has seen in the past five years.”

Jake had a coy look about him, and Todd reckoned he was eighteen or nineteen. His hair was short, light brown, and although flattened by the water, had curled up in places. He gave Todd a firm handgrip before making way for Gavin.

Gavin had longer hair, just over his ears. When Todd had seen him play, it was usually parted in the middle, but right now, soaking wet, it was slicked back across his head.

After a brief handgrip from Gavin, and no words spoken, Todd asked what the routine was like.

“It’s a breeze.” Jake laughed. “We have breakfast as soon as we get up. Just milk and oats. We don’t bother with showers in the morning because we have them at the training ground. We train from seven until twelve when we stop for lunch. In the afternoons we sometimes kick around for an hour, or get on the bus back here for two or three, watch television, eat, maybe play pool. Then we come for a swim at eight or nine and have a sauna before bed.”

Todd thought it sounded like a manageable routine, but from the way Jake reeled it off as though it was hard wired in his brain, he figured it was a strict one.

“We’re always in bed by ten,” Trent added. “Then it’s up again at six.”

“What about weekends? Do we get time out, go clubbing?” He was expecting the lads would at least have a party, or get up to some fun in the city. But their faces didn’t appear to say so.

“Sometimes we train on a Sunday, but if not we relax,” Gavin said in a straight tone, no expression. His dark eyes seemed to regard Todd with uncertainty. “Saturday nights is usually time out, unless there’s a game Sunday and one of us is on the bench. But we always stay sober and keep to the house, unless the boss gives us a free day.”

The answer didn’t surprise Todd. The Reds players were never in the news as party animals.

“Sometimes we get to go home, see our girlfriends or family at a weekend,” Trent said. “But we have to be back at the house on Sunday afternoons ready for the new week.”

It sounded like the tightly run club he’d heard about. But Todd wasn’t put off, not for his dream.

“You have a girlfriend?” Gavin asked.

“Yeah.” Todd smiled. “Her name is Cherrie.” He realized he’d not called her yet. “I should call her tonight.”

The three guys looked at each other and Gavin let out a deep sounding groan.

“The boss has strict rules when it comes to girlfriends,” he said. “As long as they don’t interfere with the training they’re fine. But if you start having emotional shit or they start making demands of your time, you either ditch them or you leave.”

Todd swallowed and nodded. He’d heard the boss had some rules when it came to the player’s personal lives.
Fuck me; Aidan Marshall is my fucking boss
.

“Do any of you guys have girlfriends?” he asked.

“We’ve got them,” Trent said, glancing at Gavin. “But the game is more important.”

Jake and Gavin nodded, and from their serious expressions, Todd could see they meant it.

For a moment, he tried to imagine choosing between Cherrie and the game. Although he knew the answer, he doubted it would ever come to that. She’d always supported him with his football; as soon as she found out he’d got through today, and was now on the reserves for the Reds, she wouldn’t do a thing to jeopardize it.