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Authors: Michelle Betham

Striker (77 page)

BOOK: Striker
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Amber looked from Ronnie to Debbie, then back at Ronnie, her voice quiet as she spoke. ‘What am I supposed to believe, Ronnie? When he told me himself. And then he goes and does it again. What am I supposed to believe?’

‘Maybe if he sees you, Amber,’ Debbie said. ‘Maybe if you talk to him he’ll start seeing sense because, right now, he’s lost it. He’s really lost it. The way he’s talking…’

‘Has he asked to see me?’ Amber whispered, walking over to the table and picking up the small bouquet of cream and white roses nestled in amongst a barrage of baby’s breath.

‘He keeps talking about you,’ Debbie replied. ‘When he feels like talking, that is, which isn’t often. Most of the time he just sits there staring into space, or he’s logged onto his laptop, throwing his money away.’

Amber said nothing for a few seconds, just stared at her bouquet. ‘When you say it’s happened again, Debbie… has he… he hasn’t tried to do anything stupid, has he?’

Debbie shook her head. ‘Not yet, but we’ re worried about him, Amber. He isn’t thinking straight…’

‘I don’t think it’s a good idea. For me to see him, I mean,’ Amber said quietly, checking her watch one more time.

‘Amber…’

‘Ronnie, please. Me going round there is going to do what, exactly? Give him some kind of false hope? Make him think I’m coming back to him because he quite obviously can’t cope without me? Because he can, Ronnie. He can cope without anyone, and he knows that. It’s a game, and I’m not playing. Now, are you taking me to my wedding or not?’

Ronnie gave Debbie a resigned look before walking over to Amber, pulling her into his arms for a hug. ‘Yeah, I’m taking you. Come on. Let’s go.’

 

*

 

Max stood in the doorway, watching as Ryan sat on the edge of the sofa looking like he hadn’t had a wash in days, a change of clothes – a hot meal. The floor and tables were scattered with empty lager cans and bottles of spirits, the curtains drawn, the only light coming from the laptop screen on the coffee table in front of him.

This was Max’s worst nightmare. It was like stepping back in time, reliving a situation he thought they’d never have to go through again after what had happened in
London
. Except that, this time, it wasn’t really Ryan’s lifestyle that had kicked everything off a second time. Not entirely, anyway. What neither of them had realised was that Ryan would fall so hard for somebody, at a time when it was blatantly evident he wasn’t ready for a relationship. He still had issues to sort out, issues he’d thought could be rectified by falling in love, but he’d put too much pressure on her. And whether she’d realised that or not, Amber had really been little more than a crutch for Ryan to lean on whenever he’d needed someone to pick up the pieces, someone he could fuck into the bargain. From the start it had been an unhealthy relationship, Max could see that now, and he felt slightly guilty because it had been him who’d tried to push them together, tried to make Ryan settle down when he quite obviously wasn’t ready for that just yet. Maybe if he’d fallen for some twenty-something wannabe WAG then things may have worked out differently, but instead he’d fallen in love with a woman eleven years older than him who was, as everyone knew by now, very much in love with another man. Max was almost certain now that they’d both been using each other as some sort of shield, a way of trying to forget the problems both of them had been unwilling to face up to. Until now.

‘I’ve called Colin,’ Max said as
Gary
joined him in the doorway. ‘Told him the usual cover story, that he’s been on a bender, decided to disappear off somewhere for a few days without telling anyone. I’ve been peddling that one out for years now. It should at least buy us a little bit of time, though. But, if he comes out of this, he’s going to have to face club disciplinary action, at the very least… unless…’

‘Unless, what?’
Gary
asked, shoving his hands in his pockets.

Max sighed, leaning back against the doorpost. ‘I get him back into rehab.’

Gary
gave a sharp intake of breath. He’d spent the morning listening as Max had told him the full extent of Ryan’s past problems, and it was tough to take in. Because he cared about his best mate. He loved the idiotic bastard. And this had been a bit of a wake-up call for him, too. ‘Do you think he’s gonna go for that?’

‘He’s not really giving us much choice, is he? If he doesn’t snap out of this soon… He’s out of control again,
Gary
. This time it could signal the end of his career, and I don’t think he deserves that, do you? No matter how stupid he’s been. He really doesn’t deserve that.’

 

*

 

Amber sat in the back of Ronnie’s car, staring out of the window as they drove through Whickham village, her stomach dipping as they passed the road that led to the house she and Ryan had used to share; the house she knew he was back living in now. Their old home. Their beautiful, sometimes happy home. Because they had been happy – once-upon-a-time.

‘Do you want me to drop you off?’ Ronnie asked Debbie.

‘Here will be fine,’ Debbie said. ‘I could do with the walk and the fresh air, believe me.’ She turned to look at Amber, smiling kindly. ‘I hope today goes well for you, chick. And I promise, I won’t say a word. To anyone.’

Amber couldn’t say anything. Her mouth had gone dry and she had a feeling that, if she opened it, nothing would come out anyway.

She watched as Debbie said something else to Ronnie that she couldn’t quite make out, and then opened the passenger door. And that’s when Amber finally found her voice, although the words that came out of it surprised even her. ‘Debbie, wait! Wait.’ Debbie climbed back into the car, closing the door, throwing Ronnie a confused look before twisting round in her seat to look at Amber again.

‘I’ll come and talk to him. I’m not sure what good it’ll do, and I don’t even know if it’s the right thing to
do, but…’ She looked straight at Ronnie. ‘I still care about him. And I don’t want to see him throw his life away, even if he
is
playing a game.’

‘Are you sure?’ Ronnie asked, starting the engine again. ‘Do you want to call Jim? Tell him what’s going on?’

She shook her head. ‘I don’t intend staying long,’ she said quietly, settling back in her seat as Ronnie turned the car around and headed off in the direction of Ryan’s house. And anyway, she had a feeling Jim already knew what was going on. He wasn’t the kind of manager who let things like this pass him by.

It took just seconds to get there, and Amber felt a thousand memories flood back inside her head as they pulled up onto the long, winding drive that led up to the modest detached house. But she had to remember why she was there. She had to put an end to this, had to make sure Ryan understood what was happening. She’d moved on, now he had to do the same. For both their sakes.

She left her bouquet on the back seat and followed Debbie and Ronnie to the front door, running her hands up and down her arms as a cold breeze hit her, reminding her it was still winter. But that wasn’t the only chill she was experiencing.

‘You okay?’ Ronnie mouthed.

She nodded, although her stomach was turning major somersaults by the time
Gary
opened the door.

‘He’s in there,’
Gary
said, standing aside to let them through, indicating the living room with his head.

Amber stood in the huge hallway, looking around at a place that had once been so familiar but now felt like a stranger’s home, despite the pictures she’d hung and the plant she’d bought for the sideboard in the hallway still being there. As was a picture of her and Ryan together. Both of them smiling. Neither of them realising that they should never have been together.

‘We’ve tried talking to him,’ Max began. Amber looked at him. He seemed worried. And surely, if Max looked worried, then something must be wrong. Really wrong. Max knew Ryan better than anyone, so, if
he
was concerned…

‘Have you spoken to his parents?’ she asked, looking briefly over at the framed photograph of her and Ryan on the hall window sill.

‘Not yet,’ Max sighed. ‘They’re used to not hearing from him for days on end – he can be a real selfish bastard in that respect. But, if things go the way I think they…’ He stopped mid-sentence and Amber looked at him again, narrowing her eyes.

‘If things go
what
way?’ she asked. ‘I mean, shouldn’t his parents…’

‘It looks like another trip to rehab, Amber,’ Max said softly. ‘It doesn’t look as though he’s leaving us with much choice. And, if it comes to that then, yes. I’ll have to talk to his parents. But after what they went through before, I’m trying to spare them as much anxiety as I can.’

‘What’s with the outfit?’
Gary
asked, looking Amber up and down. She’d totally forgotten she was dressed for her wedding.

‘Oh, Christ,’ she said, looking frantically over at Ronnie. ‘I should have gone home and changed, shouldn’t I?’

Gary
frowned. ‘Why? What’s going on?’

‘Amber and Jim – they’re getting married. Today,’ Ronnie answered for her. ‘And it’s too late to go back and get changed, Amber. Besides, it’s just one of a number of things he’s going to have to face up to, whether he likes it or not.’

‘I know, but…’

‘It’s something he needs to know,’ Max said kindly, seeing how anxious Amber had become. ‘It’s for the best that he understands, once and for all, that you’re not coming back. Then we can take it from there.’

‘Married?’
Gary
asked, looking over at Debbie, who just shrugged. ‘You kept that one quiet. Jesus, you’ve only been together five minutes.’

Amber rolled her eyes, turning away from everyone for a second, composing herself, because she felt as though she couldn’t breathe. Her stomach was in knots, her chest tight,
her
head fuzzy and confused.

‘Amber?’
Gary
persisted. ‘You’re really marrying the boss?’

She swung back round, a more determined look in her eyes now. ‘Well, I’m not dressed like this to clean the windows, am I?’ She pushed past them all, stopping dead in the doorway of the living room when she saw Ryan sitting there, on the edge of the sofa. He was dressed in a navy blue t-shirt, jeans and battered old black Converse baseball boots. His hair was all over the place, making him look as though he’d just got out of bed, although Amber suspected bed was a place he hadn’t seen for a while. He looked as though he hadn’t slept properly in days. The room was littered with empty cans and bottles of spirits, the curtains drawn with just one slim chink of light filtering through a tiny gap in the middle. She looked over at his laptop screen – it was open at the Blackjack table of an online casino. ‘Ryan…’

He looked up, his eyes meeting hers, and she watched as his face just crumpled, tears starting to pour down his cheeks. She ran inside, sitting down next to him, scooping him into her arms as though he were a toddler who needed comforting, holding him as he cried, rocking him gently as sobs wracked his body.

‘It’s okay, baby,’ she whispered, stroking his hair. ‘It’s okay.’ Her eyes caught Ronnie’s as he peered inside but she shook her head, signalling that she wanted them to leave her and Ryan alone for a while. He nodded, and indicated the kitchen. She smiled that she understood, then turned her attention back to Ryan. ‘What are you doing, you bloody idiot?’

He pulled away slightly, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, turning away from her for a second.

‘Ryan… you need to talk to me. You need to talk to
some
one…’

He turned to look at her again, his eyes red and tired. He just looked defeated, really defeated this time, and it pulled at Amber’s heart. But she had to be sure – sure that this wasn’t just another one of his games, another attempt to try and win her back.

‘This isn’t another… what happened last time…’

He looked down at his clasped hands in his lap, his expression not changing at all. ‘I’m sorry, Amber. For what I did to you.’

She reached out to take his hand, squeezing it gently. ‘Hey, I was hardly an angel myself.’

He looked at her, his face serious. ‘I can’t do this anymore, babe. I’m done…’ He trailed off, looking straight ahead at the large, imposing fireplace in front of him where yet more photos of him and Amber stood. She felt her stomach dip again as she listened to him, guilt sweeping over her because Debbie was right – this time he wasn’t playing games. This time he was serious.

‘Come on, Ryan. This isn’t like you. What’s happened to the Ryan Fisher I used to know?’

His eyes met hers again. ‘He died, Amber.’

His words filled her with a dread she’d never felt before. She’d known he was a mixed-up, confused young man, but nothing like this. This felt like a situation she couldn’t handle, and a part of her was scared. What was she supposed to say to him? How much did she tell him?

‘The truth, Amber,’ Ryan said quietly, still looking into her eyes. ‘I just want to know the truth. You and Jim… you and… is it the real thing? You and him? Are you… are you in love with him?’

BOOK: Striker
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