Katie's Big Match

by Holly Webb

  It was decided – Megan and Katie were off on a mission at break. Just then the bell went, and Megan and Katie gave each other half-scared, half-excited looks and made a run for the PE department’s noticeboard by the staffroom, while all the others headed off to the classroom, promising to cover for them if Miss Fraser was early. Katie pelted up to the noticeboard. She was still feeling slightly miserable deep down, but she was building up a hard shell to cover it, one that she wouldn’t let even her sisters or her best friend break. However, seeing her name high up on the list for Wednesday’s game chased the niggling feeling out of her completely. Until she turned round, grinning, and looked at Megan, who was not grinning. Katie whipped back to the board – Megan was down as a sub, but Michelle, one of the Year Eight girls who’d missed practices, was back in goal.

  “Oh, Megan, that’s so unfair! You’re way better than Michelle!” Katie gave Megan a quick hug, and felt guilty – she’d been so pleased to see her name that she’d totally forgotten her friend.

  Megan smiled, with an effort. “At least I’m a sub, I suppose that’s better than nothing. Well done.”

  Then they caught sight of the clock, gasped, and ran for it.

  Meanwhile, Becky and Annabel were using the time without their sister to ask for advice. Katie was being Katie – determined, super-committed to her football and a complete muppet (the last bit was a quote from Annabel). She was obviously missing their dad like anything, and they were sure that her overreaction to Cara was all mixed up with that too. Of course Katie was bossy! It wasn’t because there was anything wrong with her, she was just a very sensible person who had good ideas and liked organizing people. But now Katie seemed to have lost some of her bounce, and she was refusing to talk about it, which was worse. It was as though she felt she’d been un-Katie-ish enough with their heart-to-heart the night before. There had to be something Annabel and Becky could do to make her feel better, but they just couldn’t work out what it was. So they huddled round their table with Saima and Fran, and started to explain. They were looking very shifty, because they knew Katie would kill them if she found out they’d been talking about her.

  “Look,” murmured Annabel, flicking a suspicious glance round the classroom, and sticking her tongue out at Max Cooper, who happened to catch her eye, “we need some help. Katie’s really missing our dad, ’cause he’s not there to watch her play football, and we need some ideas on how to cheer her up.”

  “And it’s got to be a secret,” added Becky hurriedly, carefully pretending not to see Max, who was now glaring in their direction, and casting an anxious look at Amy and Cara and Emily, who were admiring Amy’s nails. She really didn’t want them to hear all about Katie’s problems. “Katie would be embarrassed we told you, you know what she’s like.”

  Saima steepled her fingers and looked thoughtful. “Could you talk to your dad about it? I mean, do you think he knows how she feels?”

  Becky and Annabel looked blankly at each other. Did Dad know? Email and Skype and the occasional phone call were all very well, but Dad being thousands of kilometres away meant no more of those useful moments where you just happened to mention that you could really do with new ballet shoes, or your sister was feeling down.

  “I don’t think she’d have said anything,” pondered Becky. “I mean, she emails him a lot, but she likes him to think she’s doing OK. You know – that she’s really sorted.”

  “Perfect,” snorted Annabel. “That’s what Katie always has to be.”

  “But do you think we should tell him?” Becky looked anxious. “We might make them both upset.”

  Saima shrugged. “But don’t you think he’d want to know?” she asked.

  Annabel and Becky exchanged glances – they’d have to think about this. “Hmm,” said Becky after a moment. “Maybe we should email Dad.”

  “Joy,” said Annabel gloomily. “That’ll be a fun email to write.”

  Just then Miss Fraser came in with the register (and Becky suddenly realized that it was all very well answering for Katie, providing Miss Fraser was a bit sleepy, but how were they supposed to be red-haired Megan?). Luckily Katie and Megan skidded in behind her, looking solemn and out of breath.

  “Are you in?” hissed Annabel, as they slipped into their places.

  “Tell you later,” murmured Katie, not wanting to make Megan feel any worse.

  But Megan said quickly, “I’m only a sub this time. But Katie’s up front again, with Sarah, and everybody’s favourite little footballer.” She jerked her head in Cara’s direction, and then Miss Fraser started to call the register, and Megan was able to smile and pretend everything was OK.

  Morning lessons seemed to race past for Katie – her brain really wasn’t in school, it was out on the football field scoring spectacular goals while Cara Peters sulked on the subs bench, Max Cooper tripped over his own feet as Katie flew past him, and her dad told everyone on the sidelines that she was his daughter and she was going to play for Man United or maybe Barcelona – Katie’s favourite European team…

  When the bell went for break Katie and Megan headed for the far side of the playground where there was a grassy patch with a couple of benches. Year Tens and above were allowed to stay in at break and lunch if they wanted, so unless it was really sunny (in which case the whole school was fighting for a patch of grass so they could stretch out and sunbathe) the benches were Year Eight and Nine territory. Normally Year Nines got the benches and the Year Eights sat on jumpers or jackets or textbooks. Whatever, it definitely wasn’t somewhere that two measly Year Sevens should be approaching. No one was going to bother themselves to say anything, of course, as Year Sevens were invisible, but the atmosphere was below freezing as Megan and Katie approached Sarah’s little group. They’d been lucky to spot them early on in their search.

  The older girls were deep in discussion, and Sarah hadn’t noticed them, so Megan and Katie hung around the edge of the little group, getting a few curious glances, until Katie gave up waiting for Sarah to stop talking about EastEnders, and tapped her on the shoulder.

  Sarah did not look particularly pleased to see them. “Er, yes?” she said, with a slight edge of frost on her voice.

  Katie grinned at her team captain – Cara might have thrown her off balance yesterday, but frosty-voiced Year Eights weren’t at all scary. Although Megan was standing behind Katie and pretending none of this had been her idea.

  “Megan’s had a brilliant idea about raising money for the team strip!” Katie hooked an arm behind her and dragged her friend forward.

  Sarah looked interested – Katie and Megan might only be Year Sevens, but they had played well on Friday, and the new strip idea was something that Sarah wished she’d thought of.

  “We thought maybe we could set up a special match – make people pay for tickets,” said Megan nervously and shut up again.

  She’d obviously gone as far as she was going, so Katie carried on, “But the cool thing is it’d be against the junior boys’ team. Don’t you think we could beat them?” she appealed to Sarah.

  Sarah sat bolt upright and breathed an ecstatic, “Yes!” Then she actually jumped up. “Hey, of course we could. They’re useless. That would be so fun. We should go and tell the others. Look, see you later, you lot, I’ll be back in a bit.”

  Megan and Katie looked at each other in relief. This was even better than they’d hoped. Sarah actually put a hand on Megan’s shoulder and propelled her over to the other end of the grass where several of the team were lounging and poring over the latest gossip magazine. Sarah bounced up to them with Katie and Megan in tow and asked, with a gleam of mischief in her eyes, “How would you like to make the boys’ junior team look like total muppets in front of the whole school?”

  That got everyone’s attention. “We play them to raise money for our shirts. She thought of it” – Sarah indicated Megan in a way that suggested independe
nt thought and Year Sevens didn’t usually go together – “but it’s a brilliant idea. After all the stuff they’ve said about us, we’ll really show them.”

  There was general enthusiasm, and as they’d now got at least half the team to agree, Sarah, Megan and Katie reckoned the plan was pretty much on. Katie suggested that she and Megan ask Mrs Ross about it in their PE lesson on Wednesday morning and Sarah was all for it. She rushed off to see if she could find any more of the team, and promised she’d sound them all out before Wednesday’s match, but she was certain they’d want to do it. As she disappeared, she threw back over her shoulder, “Can you find that other girl in your class, what’s-her-name? Tell her too!”

  Katie and Megan exchanged dismayed glances, then sighed and set off to find Cara. As it turned out, by the time they got to her – with Amy and Emily as usual – she already knew. Sarah had been working fast, and the gossip was already spreading. Amy went into attack mode as soon as she saw Katie approaching.

  “Oh, look. Now which one’s this? Very scruffy, so not Annabel. And accompanied by a walking carrot. Hello Katie, hello whatever-your-name-is!” Amy smiled a charmingly nasty smile.

  “Oh, shut up,” snapped Katie disgustedly; she hadn’t time for swapping insults with the self-proclaimed queen of Year Seven, and talking to Cara again after her worrying comments on Monday was making her feel tetchy. “Cara, we’re all going to play a fund-raising match against the boys, OK? We’re going to ask Mrs Ross about it in PE tomorrow.You can come if you like.”

  Cara sneered – she’d obviously recovered from their spat the afternoon before, or perhaps it was having Amy and Emily to back her up. “Oh, thank you, Katie. Can I lick your boots now? I can’t believe how conceited you are. I get to come with you to ask Mrs Ross about your little plan? Wow, what an honour. I think I might die of excitement.”

  “Don’t, then,” said Katie. “We were only trying to be nice, so you didn’t feel left out. We won’t bother next time.”

  “Whose stupid idea was this anyway? Yours?”

  “No, it was Megan’s, and it’s not stupid – everyone else likes it,” snapped Katie. “What’s wrong with it?”

  Cara hadn’t thought this far. “It’s just stupid,” she replied lamely. “Obviously.”

  “So you don’t reckon we can win?” put in Megan.

  “No, of course it’s not that,” blustered Cara, looking to Amy and Emily for help and not getting any.

  “She’s scared,” sneered Megan to Katie, and they both giggled.

  “I am not!”

  “So you’ll be up for it, then?” demanded Katie.

  Cara sighed, as though she couldn’t believe she was being forced to join in something so childish. “I suppose so. If we have to. But don’t think it’s because I want to, Katie Ryan. Only because you’ll get slaughtered if I don’t play.” She smirked, and Katie and Megan exchanged disgusted glances and walked away. Really, there was no point even bothering to be nice to people like that. But still … the plan was going ahead, and Manor Hill Junior Boys were about to get the shock of their lives!

  Becky and Annabel spent the rest of the day giving each other worried, thoughtful looks. Even Annabel’s bouncy, happy-go-lucky personality was a little bit dampened. Luckily, Katie was so preoccupied that she didn’t notice, but Saima felt quite guilty, and whispered to Fran in science that she wished she’d never suggested they talk to their dad about it. When the triplets got home that night, Katie was full of the fund-raising plan, and so determinedly enthusiastic about the match against the boys that Annabel and Becky had to look at her carefully as she chattered to Mum over tea. Was this really someone who was miserable, even deep down? But there was something about the intense brightness of Katie’s voice that didn’t ring true, and when she went off to do a bit of quick practising in the garden they nipped into the living room to work out what they were going to do under cover of watching TV.

  “Do you really think we should tell Dad about Katie?” asked Becky anxiously. “I mean, it’s not as if there’s anything he can do about it either.”

  Annabel put her thumbnail in her mouth thoughtfully, then took it out when she remembered that she never, ever chewed her nails. “Mmm. Maybe we could tell him, but not in an ‘it’s all your fault’ kind of way. Get him to do something to help – can’t think what though.”

  “It needs to be something that shows Katie that he misses playing football with her too, I think. I mean, that would make her feel better. And maybe if he admits it, she might be able to think about it more.”

  “Without deciding that she’s being silly and babyish and she isn’t allowed to do anything as soppy as miss people, which I reckon is what she’s doing now,” added Annabel, in a moment of insight. “Let’s go and email Dad before Katie comes in. Come on!”

  They dashed upstairs and logged on, Annabel using her separate email address rather than their joint one.

  From: Superstar.3ryans©mailserve.com

  To: dryan@fostermarcus.co.uk

  Subject: Katie

  Hi Dad,

  Have you noticed Katie being a bit funny in emails recently? Becky and I think she’s really missing you being here to do sporty-type stuff with her like you used to.

  Here Annabel stopped. “Now what? What are we actually supposed to do about it?”

  Becky considered. “Weeeell, I was wondering if we could do some kind of scrapbook thing that we could send Dad. I mean, we’ve got the digital camera Dad gave us, and your phone – we could make a photo-diary of Katie, so that she feels like Dad’s really seeing everything.”

  “Yes! And we can email it all to him, so it’s like a daily update. That’s a brilliant idea!” And Annabel hugged her sister, nearly knocking her off the chair they were sharing, before starting to type furiously again.

  We’re going to start sending you lots of photos of Katie doing football stuff (she’s doing loads of training). I’m going to take the photos, and Becky’ll do captions for them, and write stuff.

  “Hey! When did we decide that? I might want to take the photos, it was my idea!” squeaked Becky indignantly.

  Annabel gazed at her, blue eyes very wide and innocent. “But Becky, you’re so good at that sort of thing. Loads better than me – you know you are.”

  Becky glared back at her sister, looking like a ruffled kitten. “You are such a liar, Annabel. You got an A for your last English essay, and Mr Marshall said it was brilliantly imaginative – you showed everybody.”

  “It was a fluke,” said Annabel airily. “It was about what you wanted to be when you grow up, and it wasn’t imaginative, it’s all going to happen.”

  “Oh, all right, when you’re making millions in Hollywood you’d just better remember this,” grumbled Becky, giving in as usual – somehow Annabel was good at getting people to do exactly what she wanted.

  Annabel went back to typing:

  We think this might cheer Katie up – when we tell her that you’ve been watching her every move! What do you think?

  Lots of love,

  Bel and Becky

  Then they shut down the computer, and grinned at each other – Operation Cheer-Up-Katie was on!

  Chapter Six

  Year Seven had PE first thing on Wednesday mornings. Apart from the sports-mad people like Katie, it wasn’t very popular.

  As Saima said that particular morning, “It’s just cruel to make us run around a field before we’ve even woken up. We need something nice and gentle to get us going, like geography.”

  Everyone else gave her slightly odd looks – geography was so gentle it was practically coma-inducing, it was possibly the most boring subject ever invented. Who cared why volcanoes exploded? They didn’t even get any decent videos.

  “Just lurk at the back, Saima,” advised Annabel, yawning.

  By contrast, Megan and Katie were posit
ively leaping up and down with excitement, Katie especially, as there were things she was trying to put out of her head, and being excited about the fund-raising match helped. They were desperate to find Mrs Ross and get an official go-ahead for their big plans. And for some reason they expected the same amount of enthusiasm from everybody else…

  “What is with you lot this morning?” Katie asked disgustedly, as she rocked herself from heel to toe to get her calf muscles warmed up. “You look like you don’t even want to be here!”

  Becky, Annabel, Saima and Fran exchanged long-suffering glances.

  “Just be grateful,” said Annabel gloomily. “Becky and I get this all the time. Katie, please get it through your thick skull – we don’t want to be here. We’d rather be anywhere else than here. In fact, here is the last place on Earth I want to be!”

  Annabel had been taking Katie’s horrified expression as a sign that her “we hate PE, or at any rate we do in the early morning” message was getting through. Unfortunately, though, it was actually a “shut up, shut up, shut up for heaven’s sake, Mrs Ross is right behind you” expression.

  “Goodness me, Annabel,” said the PE teacher gently. “You really don’t want to be here.” She smiled. “Well, how about the other side of the field? Why don’t you run over there, and then come back and let me know if it’s any better on that side?”

  Annabel looked at Mrs Ross blankly. She was feeling slightly shell-shocked.

  “That wasn’t a suggestion, Annabel. Now, please.”

  Annabel sighed and set off – really, it was so unfair the way teachers did that creeping up on you thing. Everyone else attempted to look as though they were actually just cunningly disguised blades of grass, in the hope that Mrs Ross would just ignore them. Except of course for Megan and Katie, who were delighted to have her attention.