A Clubbable Woman

by Reginald Hill

  ‘Right,’ he said. ‘Let’s go.’

  ‘The kick?’ suggested Marcus.

  ‘To hell with the kick. He might miss it. Let’s go now,’ said Dalziel.

  Marcus took a last glance back at Connon before going through the exit, but he wasn’t looking. He was slowly sitting down again after the leap of jubilation which had taken him and thousands of others to their feet.

  There were tears in his eyes. He rubbed one away.

  The Welshman next to him nudged his neighbour and surreptitiously pointed to Connon.

  ‘The buggers have got feelings after all, boy,’ he said.