Striker (Book 1 in the 'Striker' Trilogy)

by Michelle Betham

  Freddie Sullivan said nothing for a few seconds, his silence making Amber nervous. Could he tell she was hiding something from him? Did he know she was lying to him again? Oh Jesus, what was she doing? This was ridiculous!

  ‘You can’t spare me five minutes?’ Freddie asked. ‘If you’re passing the ground on your way…’

  ‘Dad, I’m really sorry, but I’m off to the coast today…’

  ‘The coast?’

  She closed her eyes, gripping the receiver tight. Freddie knew Jim lived at the coast. But so what if she was going to spend her day off with the man she loved? There was nothing unusual about that. Maybe she should head him off at the pass. ‘I’m meeting Jim for lunch,’ she sighed, hoping that would be good enough to placate her father.

  ‘Lunch? It’s 10am, Amber. You’ve got plenty of time to skip by here for a few minutes before you head off, and anyway…’ He paused for a second, and Amber felt her stomach dip again, ‘… surely Jim wouldn’t mind if you were a little bit late? It’s not like you need to be there bang on time, is it? Isn’t he working today, anyway? I mean, Red Star have got that crucial match in Wigan on Saturday…’

  ‘I’ve got a doctor’s appointment first, Dad, okay?’ More lies. Now she felt really bad. Making up a trip to the doctors just to throw people off the scent was so old-school, and not particularly original. But it was all she’d been able to come up with on the spur-of-the-moment.

  ‘A doctor’s appointment? Is everything okay?’ Her father’s voice sounded worried and Amber felt the guilt build again. Shit! A doctor’s appointment was probably the worst lie she could have come up with, in hindsight. Her mother had been extremely secretive about her own doctors’ appointments in the beginning, telling nobody about the cancer until it had got to the point where people had needed to know, and her father hadn’t dealt with that all that well. Yet here she was causing him more anxiety with stupid lies to cover up her own selfishness.

  ‘Dad, listen, everything’s fine, alright? Everything’s fine. It’s just… it’s just a routine check-up, you know, blood pressure check, that kind of thing. It happens every so often, when I need a new batch of pills…’

  ‘Pills?’

  Amber sighed, closing her eyes again and wishing this wasn’t happening. She was digging herself into a bigger hole by the second. ‘Contraceptive pills. I’m on the Pill, Dad. And when you’re on the Pill they do regular check-ups, just to make sure everything’s okay.’

  Freddie stayed silent again, and Amber just hoped it was the mention of contraception that had shut him up. That uncomfortable realisation that his daughter did, indeed, do things he’d probably rather she didn’t. And Amber was doing those things with a man whom Freddie had once called his best friend. Until he’d found out the truth. Could this get any more complicated? ‘Okay,’ Freddie finally broke his silence. ‘Well, I don’t want you missing your doctor’s appointment. No matter how routine. Amber…?’

  ‘What?’ she asked, checking her watch and realising that she should be getting ready by now.

  ‘You are being careful, aren’t you?’

  She frowned as she trailed her fingers over the soft material of her wedding dress. ‘Careful?’

  ‘With Jim, I mean.’

  She paused for a second, not entirely sure what he meant by that. ‘Yeah. I’m being careful, Dad.’

  ‘Good girl. I worry about you, Amber. That’s all.’

  ‘I’m fine. Really. I’m fine.’

  ‘Well, you just make sure you stay that way. I’ll speak to you soon, sweetheart.’

  ‘Yeah. See you, Dad.’ She hung up and placed the receiver back on its base, throwing herself back on the bed. This day was going to be a hell of a lot harder than she’d imagined it would be. She’d been letting herself get carried away with the whole ‘Romeo and Juliet’ romance side of things, forgetting completely about the reality of the situation. So, the sooner she and Jim signed that wedding certificate, the better. Because she just wanted the rest of their lives to begin.

  *

  Max tried calling Ryan’s number again, but still it went straight to voicemail, which was enough to make Max concerned. Ryan’s phone only ever went to voicemail when he was doing one of two things – sleeping with women he deemed good enough to warrant no interruption, or throwing his life away in the casino. And normally Max would be able to cope with that. He’d rather Ryan hadn’t veered slightly off-the-rails again, but he’d taken his eye off the ball, hadn’t he? Concentrated on clients other than this errant, young, millionaire footballer with the lack of common sense and the fading self-respect. And now he was getting word back from Newcastle Red Star that Ryan hadn’t turned up for training for the past few days, and nobody seemed to be able to get hold of him. His mobile was switched off and he wasn’t answering his home phone, and there was also no sign of him at either his city centre apartment or his Gateshead home, apparently. He certainly wasn’t answering the door, anyway, so Max had been told.

  Max knew what had been going on in Ryan’s life lately. He knew that he and Amber were past history, that she was with Jim Allen now, and Max could only guess – given that he knew how fragile Ryan could be at times – how that was affecting his young client. And that bothered Max. More than he wanted to let on. He recognised the signs, the warning signals, because he’d seen them all before.

  He picked up his phone again and punched in another number, but they didn’t seem to be answering, either. Throwing his phone back down onto the counter he picked up the just-boiled kettle and poured steaming hot water into a mug, stirring the coffee vigorously as his mobile’s shrill ring-tone pierced the air once more. He looked at the caller ID. It was a Red Star number, but not Jim Allen’s. Did the manager even know what the hell was going on with his star striker? Or was he too busy rubbing Ryan’s nose in the fact he now had his girl? Max sighed. It was childish to even think that way but he cared about Ryan, and part of him was just frustrated that the kid hadn’t been able to grow up enough to hold onto Amber. To make a go of a settled, stable life with a woman he’d loved.

  Taking a quick sip of coffee, Max picked up the phone and held it to his ear. ‘Yep?’ He listened as the voice on the other end of the line enquired, once again, as to whether he’d heard from Ryan yet. Max took another sip of coffee. He was going to have to get down there and do some damage limitation, a little bit of spinning. Then, when he’d managed to save Ryan’s career, he was going all out to find out just what the hell was really going on.

  *

  She looked okay. Actually, she looked better than okay. The dress fitted her perfectly, hugging every curve in all the right places, her dark red hair falling loosely over her bare shoulders. She was going to freeze, of course, it still being winter and the temperatures far from tropical, but she looked okay. For a woman who was about to get married in secret to the man she’d loved for over twenty years. The love of her life.

  A knock at the door made her jump slightly, knocking her back to reality, and she ran quickly down the stairs, peering out of the living room window to see who it was before she opened the door. She couldn’t risk it being her Dad. She was hardly dressed appropriately for a doctor’s appointment.

  ‘Ronnie!’ she gasped under her breath, before heading off into the hallway and throwing open the door. She hadn’t expected to see him today.

  ‘You’re still going through with it, then?’ he asked dryly.

  ‘No. I just thought I’d nip to Asda for some milk, I’m running low.’

  He just raised an eyebrow. ‘You gonna let me in? I’m freezing me bollocks off out here.’

  ‘So eloquent,’ she smiled sarcastically, standing aside to let him through.

  ‘You look incredible, by the way,’ Ronnie said, ignoring her comment and kissing her quickly on the mouth as he walked past her into the hallway.

  ‘Thanks,’ she whispered, lifting her fingers up to her lips where his mouth had brushed fleetingly over them. ‘What are you doing he
re, anyway?’

  He turned round, looking her up and down again, letting out a low whistle as he folded his arms. ‘You really do look incredible. You going somewhere?’

  ‘Jesus, Ronnie, will you quit with the smart remarks? I’ll ask you again – what are you doing here?’

  ‘Do you really think I’d let my best friend go off and get married without at least wishing her luck?’

  ‘I don’t need luck, Ronnie,’ Amber said, fiddling with the top of her dress.

  ‘I think everybody needs a little bit of luck, Amber.’

  She looked up at him, their eyes meeting, locking together, and for a few seconds they just stared at each other.

  ‘I don’t,’ she said quietly, finally breaking the stare, and the silence.

  ‘Well, I could murder a cup of tea,’ Ronnie sighed, turning and walking towards the kitchen. ‘What about you? Or are you on the stronger stuff?’

  ‘Tea will be fine,’ Amber said, following him as quickly as she could in the heels she was wearing.

  ‘And this is all still top secret, classified stuff then, is it?’ Ronnie asked, filling the kettle.

  Amber ignored the flippancy of his question and leaned back against the counter, folding her arms. ‘Yeah. Well, I hope so, anyway. Just had a bit of a close shave with my dad, though.’

  ‘Oh yeah?’

  ‘Long story,’ Amber sighed, looking over at the clock on the wall. Not long now until she escaped all these questions and so-called concerned friends. For a little while, at least.

  ‘So, you’re still sure you want to go through with this?’ Ronnie asked, leaning back against the counter beside her, folding his arms, too.

  Amber nodded. ‘Yeah. I’m sure.’

  He turned his head to look at her. ‘You know that Ryan has been missing from training, don’t you?’

  Amber turned sharply to face him. ‘Missing?’

  ‘He hasn’t turned up for days now. Nobody’s seen hide nor hair of him since he was spotted in town at the weekend. He’s not answering his phone, nobody’s seen him at home…’

  ‘He’s not my problem anymore, Ronnie,’ Amber said, turning away from him to stare out of the French doors, into her small but pretty garden. A garden that, soon, wouldn’t be hers anymore.

  ‘And you mean that, do you?’

  She looked at Ronnie again. ‘If you’ve come here with the sole intention of hoping a missing Ryan will tug at my heartstrings enough to make me want to call things off with Jim, you’re sadly mistaken. That isn’t going to happen. I’m sure Newcastle Red Star have got enough people trying to locate him without me joining in. He’s his own worst enemy, Ronnie. I can’t help him anymore.’

  ‘So, you really don’t care about him, then?’

  ‘Jesus… I didn’t say that… Yes, I still care about him, but not enough to jeopardise my relationship with Jim. You got that? For Christ’s sake, what now?’ She sighed heavily as her phone started ringing, picking it up and answering it without missing a beat. ‘Hello? Amber Sullivan…’

  ‘Amber, it’s Max. Max Mandell. Ryan’s agent?’

  Amber felt her stomach suddenly tighten in a huge knot. ‘Max… What can I do for you?’ She looked over at Ronnie, who just shrugged.

  ‘Ryan isn’t there with you, is he?’

  ‘Ryan? No. No, he isn’t. I haven’t seen him since the game last Saturday, at Tynebridge. Why?’

  Max paused for a second before answering. ‘Ryan’s just, well… you can probably guess what he’s “just” doing. Sorry to bother you, sweetheart. Have a good day.’

  Amber placed the phone down on the counter and looked at Ronnie again. ‘They’ll find him,’ she said, walking over to the cupboard and taking out a packet of ibuprofen. ‘He’ll be off sulking somewhere, I know him.’

  ‘Yeah. You know him. Which is why I’m surprised you’re not more worried.’

  She half-filled a glass of water and took a drink, throwing her head back and swallowing two tablets in one mouthful. ‘He does this to seek attention, Ronnie. That’s all. He’ll be fine.’

  ‘You think so?’

  She fixed him with a look before checking her watch again. ‘Yeah. I think so. Now, I’ve really got to get going… I need to call a taxi…’

  ‘I’ll take you.’

  She looked up at Ronnie, a slightly surprised expression on her face. ‘You’ll take me?’

  ‘Yeah, I’ll take you, so, instead of standing there repeating everything I say why don’t you go and make sure you’ve got everything.’

  ‘What about Karen? Won’t she mind?’

  ‘She’s off on an all-day shopping expedition to the MetroCentre with her mum and sister so I doubt I’ll be seeing anything of her until later tonight. I’ve got nothing better to do.’

  ‘Gee, thanks for that.’

  ‘You know what I mean. Go on, go. Go make yourself look even more beautiful.’

  ‘Are you saying I don’t look beautiful enough?’ she smirked, giving his arm a playful punch as she walked past him.

  He looked at her, taking her hand as she slid past, his expression changing. ‘Amber… are you really sure this is what you want? Are you really sure that Jim is what you want?’

  She stared at him for a few seconds, looking right into his eyes. ‘You giving me any better offers?’

  The doorbell ringing made them both jump apart, Amber shaking out her curls as if to wipe away that split second of something she couldn’t explain, and didn’t want to dwell on. ‘Can you go see who that is, Ronnie? Please? And if it’s my dad…’

  ‘Yeah, go on. If it’s your dad, what?’

  She pushed a hand through her hair, throwing her head back, staring at the ceiling as though that would offer up the answer to everything. ‘Tell him I’ve sent you over here to pick up something I’ve forgotten, I don’t know…’

  ‘You’re really on top of all this, aren’t you? I have absolutely no idea how you managed to keep an affair with Jim going for so long without anyone finding out.’

  ‘It wasn’t an affair,’ Amber muttered at Ronnie’s back as he walked away into the hall. She could do with a drink. A small glass of Dutch courage, but she didn’t know if she had anything even vaguely alcoholic in the house. She’d been at Jim’s over the past few days so shopping hadn’t been high on her list of things to sort out. She was in the process of opening and then banging shut cupboard doors in her search for that elusive drink when Ronnie came back into the kitchen, followed by a particularly stressed-looking Debbie.

  ‘Debbie…? Is everything okay?’

  Debbie frowned as she looked at Amber, taking in her dress, freshly-styled hair, and the small bouquet of flowers that lay on the table in the corner. ‘What’s… what’s going on, Amber?’

  Amber looked over at Ronnie, who continued to do nothing but raise his eyebrows, something that was fast becoming an annoying habit of his.

  ‘I’m… Me and Jim, it’s… it’s our wedding day,’ Amber sighed, finally admitting defeat. She couldn’t really get out of this one now. It was obvious she wasn’t dressed for a trip to the bank.

  ‘Married?’ Debbie gasped, her eyes widening. ‘I had no idea…’

  ‘Neither did anyone else,’ Ronnie muttered, folding his arms as he leaned back against the wall.

  Debbie swung round to look at him. ‘But… you knew? Didn’t you? Or else, why would you…?’

  ‘Be here? Well, I’m here to see if she’s thinking straight yet. And I’ve only known for a couple of days. Seemed her and Jim didn’t want anyone else to know about their impending, super-fast nuptials.’

  ‘Ronnie, please…’ Amber looked at Debbie again. ‘What’s wrong, Debbie?’

  ‘It’s Ryan.’

  ‘Oh, Jesus,’ Amber sighed, leaning back against the cupboards, staring up at the ceiling again. ‘If you’ve come to tell me he’s gone AWOL, I already know.’

  ‘He hasn’t gone AWOL, Amber. I know where he is. Both me and Gary know where he is.’


  Amber turned to face Debbie again. ‘You know where he is? Then – why don’t you try letting some people know? I’ve had his agent on the phone, and I’m sure the club are looking for him…’

  ‘He’s not in a good way, Amber. Believe me,’ Debbie went on.

  ‘I’ll make some coffee,’ Ronnie said, quickly squeezing Debbie’s arm on his way past.

  ‘We thought it best to let him have some time alone before we told the club anything, and Gary’s been doing his best to cover for him, which is why everyone just thinks he’s been on a massive bender and now needs a couple of days to get over it.’

  ‘And that isn’t the truth?’ Amber asked, wishing she could go to sleep, wake up, and start this day all over again, without all the crap that had suddenly landed on her doorstep.

  ‘Well, yeah, I suppose it is,’ Debbie began, shoving her hands in the pockets of her Juicy Couture sweat top. ‘He was out on Saturday night, but then nobody could get hold of him on Sunday… Gary did a bit of digging and it turns out he’d spent most of the night in the casino… I don’t even want to tell you how much money he lost…’

  Amber gave a derisory snort, causing Ronnie to turn round and look at her.

  ‘Anyway…’ Debbie went on, ‘... Gary, he… When we couldn’t get hold of him on Sunday… When Gary had left him on Saturday night…’

  ‘Debbie, what’s going on?’ Amber asked, impatience starting to take over now. This was probably nothing but another one of Ryan’s games and she really didn’t have the time to play those, not today.

  Debbie looked at her. ‘It’s happened again, Amber.’

  ‘What’s happened again?’

  Ronnie frowned as he took a sip of coffee. ‘Yeah. What’s happened again?’

  Debbie didn’t take her eyes off Amber. ‘You know what, Amber. What happened the last time. Only…’

  Amber shook her head, turning to look out of the window again. ‘It’s all a game to him, Debbie. And this’ll be no different.’