Has Anyone Seen Our Striker?

by Helena Pielichaty

  For Alice

  The Team

  Megan “Meggo” Fawcett GOAL

  Petra “Wardy” Ward DEFENCE

  Lucy “Goose” Skidmore DEFENCE

  Dylan “Dyl” or “Psycho 1” McNeil LEFT WING

  Holly “Hols” or “Wonder” Woolcock DEFENCE

  Veronika “Nika” Kozak MIDFIELD

  Jenny-Jane “JJ” or “Hoggy” Bayliss MIDFIELD

  Gemma “Hursty” Hurst MIDFIELD

  Eve “Akky” Akboh STRIKER

  Tabinda “Tabby” or “Tabs” Shah STRIKER/MIDFIELD

  Daisy “Dayz” or “Psycho 2” McNeil RIGHT WING

  Amy “Minto” or “Lil Posh” Minter VARIOUS

  Official name: Parrs Under 11s, also known as the Parsnips

  Ground: Lornton FC, Low Road, Lornton

  Capacity: 500

  Affiliated to: the Nettie Honeyball Women’s League junior division

  Sponsors: Sweet Peas Garden Centre, Mowborough

  Club colours: red and white; red shirts with white sleeves, white shorts, red socks with white trim

  Coach: Hannah Preston

  Assistant coach: Katie Regan

  Star Player

  Eve “Akky” Akboh

  Age: 10

  Birthday: 22 August – which makes me the youngest in my class

  School: Mowborough Primary (but not for much longer – boo hoo!)

  Position in team: striker

  Likes: CHOCOLATE

  Dislikes: days without chocolate

  Supports: England, England Women, Arsenal Ladies

  Favourite player(s) on team: Gemma (has to be)

  Best football moment: scoring after a great cross from Gemma

  Match preparation: First thing I do is check the weather outside. Mum makes me have breakfast. That’s about it.

  Have you got a lucky mascot or a ritual you have to do before or after a match? Not really, but if I score a goal during the match I always look up at the sky in case Dad’s watching.

  What do you do in your spare time? Spare time? What’s that? Every week my mum gives me a list of chores as long as an octopus’s arm. Then there’s church on Sunday and after-school club mid-week. Playing football is what I do in my spare time, dude!

  Favourite book(s): Amazing Grace by Mary Hoffman. It’s a picture book, but I looked just like Grace when I was little. Amazing Eve!

  Favourite band(s): Rihanna, The Black Eyed Peas, Tinie Tempah

  Favourite film: School of Rock

  Favourite TV programme(s): Are You Smarter Than a 10 Year Old?

  Pre-match Interview

  Yo, my name is Eve Akboh and I am a striker for the Parrs football team. I am going to tell you about the end of the second season. I wish I didn’t have to because the end of the second season also means the end of my time as a Parr. It’s an Under 11s team and I’ll be twelve soon, so I won’t be eligible to play for them again.

  I’m gutted. I’m really going to miss being on the team, even though Gemma, my favourite player, has already left due to unforeseen circumstances. Still, feeling sorry for myself won’t change anything. And I should know. I’ve tried it often enough!

  Anyway, here are the remaining fixtures:

  Misslecott Goldstars (Nettie Honeyball Cup quarter final)

  Cuddlethorpe Tigers (away)

  Grove Belles (away)

  Southfields Athletic (home) Cup weekend – Nettie Honeyball

  Cup semifinal: Teams TBC

  Lutton Ash Angels (home)

  It’s not a lot, is it? Four league matches and a cup match. I suppose if we win the quarter final we buy ourselves an extra match (or two) but it’s still going to be torture every time I cross a game off my list. Oh well. I’d better get on with it, I suppose.

  Your friend, as always,

  Eve xxx

  Pre-match Interview Part 2

  Sorry about this, but Megan says I need to explain what I mean about Gemma and the “unforeseen circumstances”. That’s because she has no feelings. I am writing this part superfast to get it over with. Here goes…

  The unforeseen circumstances started when the Cuddlethorpe Tigers match was abandoned because of heavy snow. My mum would have picked me up but her car broke down on the motorway, so Gemma invited me back to her house to wait.

  Being invited to Gemma’s should have been the coolest thing since sliced gherkins, but I couldn’t relax because I was worried about Mum and also Gemma was being weird with me. I didn’t know why at the time but everything I said seemed to annoy her. Then, during lunch, I mentioned to her dad, Kriss, how brilliant she was at playing football and she went bananas! Yelling that she hated me and stuff like that. I couldn’t believe it. I’d thought we were friends.

  I apologized for upsetting her (even though I wasn’t really sure what I’d done wrong) and she apologized too and went back to normal. Actually, she didn’t go back to normal; it was better than that. For the first time ever she opened up to me. “Let me show you something,” she said and got out these scrapbooks from when her dad played for West Ham. The West Ham. It turned out that Kriss had been a professional footballer when he was younger. He’d nearly played for England, but all the media attention from the paparazzi had been too much. Gemma said it had been terrifying being followed everywhere, so in the end he packed it in and they came to live in Mowborough.

  I would never have guessed Gemma had a background like that, although I suppose her stupendous football skills had to come from somewhere. Anyway, after we’d finished looking at the scrapbooks, my mum phoned to say she was home and Kriss took me back and that was that.

  Everything was better than ever between us, both on the team and at after-school club, until the day of the Greenbow match.

  What happened was that my brothers, Samuel and Claude, turned up to watch along with their mates Marlon and Theo. I admit I had told them about Gemma’s dad playing for West Ham. Maybe I shouldn’t have, and after what happened next I really wished I hadn’t, but I did. Anyway, they went to talk to him and after I’d been subbed I joined in.

  It was pretty uneventful until Gemma and Amy arrived just after the second half had started. Gemma seemed uncomfortable with everyone crowding round. I was about to tell Claude to give her some space when Marlon asked if he could take a picture. I think he meant of Kriss, but Gemma looked horrified. I remembered then what she’d said about the paparazzi from when she was little – but it was too late. Marlon had already pressed the button. His camera flashed and Gemma bolted, her dad and Amy in hot pursuit. I just stood there, rooted to the spot, staring after them until they disappeared.

  And that’s what happened. Gemma might tell you something different. Amy Minter might tell you something different. But that’s what happened, I swear on my dad’s grave.

  1

  It goes without saying the rest of that weekend was pretty rubbish. I tried phoning Gemma’s house a couple of times but nobody was picking up. I was on tenterhooks waiting for after-school club on Monday, when I’d see Gemma, so I could apologize.

  Only Gemma didn’t show. Amy Minter came alone, and when I asked where Gemma was she put a hand in front of my face and said, “Don’t speak to me!”

  So I wrote “Where’s G?” on a Post-it and stuck that in front of her nose. She scribbled back “What part of ‘don’t speak to me’ don’t you understand?”

  And I thought, Fine, dude, be like that, and I went to help little Pawel and his brother stick lentils to stuff.

  The same thing happened on Tuesday. No Gemma and a well grouchy Amy. By the time I arrived at Mowborough Sports Hall later that evening for training I didn’t know what to expect.

  The first cl
ue I had that something odd was going to happen was when I walked in and saw Kriss talking to our coaches, Hannah and Katie. There was no sign of Gemma. I wanted to say hello to Kriss, but he looked so solemn it put me off.

  The next clue was when Hannah asked us all to sit on the benches rather than warm up. I sat between Petra and Nika.

  “OK, girls. This is Gemma’s dad, Kriss. As you know, Gemma left the match early on Saturday. I told you at the time it was because she was poorly but there was a bit more to it than that…”

  My heart did a double backflip. “A bit more to it” had to be about me. Was he going to tell everyone about me and my big mouth? I felt my skin prickle as Kriss began to talk. He started off by telling everyone about when he used to be a footballer and how the family had lived in London.

  “What? You played for the Hammers?” Megan interrupted.

  “Among others.” Kriss smiled.

  “Wow!”

  “What position did you play?” Lucy asked.

  “Centre-back.”

  The questions flew thick and fast until eventually Hannah stepped in. “Kriss isn’t here to talk about his career,” she informed us.

  I glanced across at Amy. Her cold eyes told me all I needed to know about what he was here to talk about. I looked away and focused on the floor.

  “Don’t worry. Everything about me is on the Internet,” Kriss told everyone, then added grimly, “And that’s the problem. When you’re in the public eye, everything you do is out there for anyone to read about. Everything. From boring stuff like what you have for breakfast to how much you earn a week. The lack of privacy can get on your nerves after a while. I tried to keep a low profile off the pitch and lead as normal a life as possible for my kids’ sake, but I was away a lot and so was Gemma’s mum because she was building up her kitchen business. It meant Gemma spent a lot of time with her nanny. What we didn’t know was that the nanny was spending a lot of her time with some very dodgy characters…”

  Up to that point Kriss hadn’t said anything I didn’t know but this was the first time I’d heard mention of a nanny. Kriss took a deep breath before continuing. “One day we came home to find that both Gemma and the nanny had disappeared. There was just a note, saying they’d both been kidnapped. It wasn’t true. Only Gemma had been kidnapped. The nanny, whose boyfriend had planned the whole thing, had already gone on the run.”

  My mouth fell open in shock. Gemma definitely hadn’t told me that! There were gasps and cries of “Poor Gemma” from around the benches.

  “Was she hurt?” Petra asked.

  Kriss shook his head. “She wasn’t hurt. They didn’t tie her up or anything like that and luckily the sleazeballs were caught soon afterwards. Things settled down until the trial a few months later. Then the nanny made up a lot of lies about us and the media went into overdrive, camping outside the house, banging on the car windows, asking if this was true and that was true. It was a horrendous time. Gemma never really got over it.”

  There was silence for a moment. “That nanny wants to rot in jail,” JJ said.

  I didn’t know what to think. I felt numb.

  “But why are you telling us all this now? Does Gemma want us to know?” Megan asked.

  “Yes, she does,” Kriss replied. “She hopes it will help you understand why she ran off on Saturday.”

  “Wasn’t she ill?” Petra asked.

  “No.”

  My stomach clenched. Here it comes, I thought.

  “Someone recognized me and took a photograph while Gemma was standing next to me. It wouldn’t have been so bad if the camera hadn’t flashed in her eyes but it did and that triggered her bad memories.”

  “She was absolutely petrified,” Amy added for good measure.

  It was too much. Tears as big as daffodil bulbs began rolling down my cheeks. “I’m so sorry,” I blurted and began babbling incoherently about Claude and Marlon and not knowing about nannies.

  “What’s she on about?” someone whispered. “Who’s Marlon?”

  But I couldn’t answer. I was in full flow. Shoulders heaving; the works. Kriss dashed across, knelt right down in front of me and pushed a tissue into my hand. “Oh, Eve, sweetheart. Don’t worry. It was just one of those things. Nobody’s blaming you. Gemma certainly isn’t.”

  I glanced up warily. “Isn’t she?”

  “No. Not a bit.”

  I felt better then. “Oh,” I said and blew into the tissue. I made such a loud noise that everyone laughed. Kriss rubbed the top of my head and returned to his seat.

  “If it helps, none of us will mention anything when we see her,” Megan told him. “We won’t, will we?” She looked round and all of us were nodding in agreement.

  Kriss sighed and exchanged a look with Hannah.

  “The thing is, you won’t be seeing her. Gemma doesn’t want to play football any more,” Hannah announced.

  “But she has to! We’ve got a cup match on Saturday…” Megan protested.

  “I’m working on it,” Kriss assured her. “I think it’s important she plays, too, but she’s convinced herself the media will start showing an interest.”

  Megan gawped at him. “Interest? In a girls’ under elevens team? They don’t even report the Women’s Super League matches half the time!”

  Hannah motioned for her to sit down, then turned to Kriss. “Send Gemma our love and tell her to come back when she’s ready.”

  Kriss nodded. “Thanks. I’m sure she’ll appreciate it.” He gave me a quick smile before he and Hannah headed towards the door. Amy hurried after them. I wanted to do the same but I didn’t feel I had the right. Gemma isn’t coming back, I kept saying to myself over and over. Gemma, my strike partner, my team-mate, my hero, was not coming back. And it was all my fault.

  2

  Parrs v. Misslecott Goldstars (Nettie Honeyball Cup quarter final)

  That Saturday morning, everything seemed the same but felt wrong. My kit looked just the same when I put it on, but it felt wrong. My mum wished me luck and that felt wrong. At the ground everyone greeted me in the same way and that felt wrong. I’d expected someone to have a go at me for what had happened with Gemma but no one did. In fact, no one mentioned Gemma at all, not even Amy. It was as if everyone had made a conscious decision not to. I found it all a bit strange and it was a relief when it was time for kick-off.

  Misslecott Goldstars were not the strongest opposition in the world. Even without our star player we had the most possession and dominated play. Nika, playing centre-mid, selflessly provided me with plenty of goal-scoring opportunities, but could I score? Even at close range? Could I, heck! It was as if my feet had been fixed to the grass with tent pegs.

  My marker couldn’t believe her luck. She nipped the ball away every time without the slightest resistance from me. True, she didn’t know what to do with the ball once she had it but that was beside the point. As the minutes ticked by, I became more and more rooted to the spot. Things went from feeling wrong to feeling freaky. When Hannah swapped me over I couldn’t wait to get off the pitch. “Please score and put me out of my misery,” I told JJ as she took my place.

  “Will do,” she replied.

  Sure enough, two minutes later, she put us one–nil up. “I’m glad someone knows what they’re doing,” I said to Tabinda.

  I hoped my half-time snack of an apple and half a bar of fruit-and-nut might sort me out, but when Hannah put me on again midway through the second half I was even more feeble than in the first. I don’t think I would have scored if the Goldstars had all gone for a tea-break and sent the goalie to the shops for the biscuits.

  Luckily, Nika was way more alert and scored twice from JJ’s corners and the match ended three–nil to us.

  We were through to the semifinals of the Nettie Honeyball Cup.

  When I got home, instead of writing the score next to the fixture like I usually did, I folded the paper over so I couldn’t see the Misslecott listing at all, even though we’d won. I didn’t want an
y reminders of that one. Then I checked on the website and saw we’d be playing the Tembridge Vixens in the semifinal, so I pencilled that in the space designated “Cup weekend”. It meant that at least the list hadn’t shrunk, even if my skills had.

  CUDDLETHORPE TIGERS (AWAY)

  GROVE BELLES (AWAY)

  SOUTHFIELDS ATHLETIC (HOME)

  CUP WEEKEND – NETTIE HONEYBALL CUP SEMIFINAL GROUP “A”:

  TEAMS TBC TEMBRIDGE VIXENS V. PARRS

  LUTTON ASH ANGELS (HOME)

  3

  On Monday, I bumped into Megan as I was wheeling the Year Six music trolley back to its cupboard in the hall. She was already in there, returning her Year Five’s. “Good result on Saturday, eh?” she said.

  “Well, apart from me playing like a plank.”

  She shrugged. “Yeah, you had a ’mare but you’re bound to be a bit rubbish without Gemma at first. You’ll be cushty next week.”

  I gawped at her.

  “What?”

  “You mentioned Gemma.”

  “So?”

  “You didn’t on Saturday, not once.”

  “No point, was there? She wasn’t playing. A captain has to focus on the team she’s got on the day.”

  “I guess.”

  “I’m treating it like she’s got an injury. You know, missing a couple of matches with a hamstring problem. Maybe you should look at it like that, too? It might help.”

  I shrugged. I didn’t think it would, somehow.

  Megan picked up a drumstick and beat out a quick rhythm on a nearby steel pan. “Cheer up, Akky. It wasn’t your fault. Any one of us could have recognized him and taken that photo.”

  “I know but…”

  “What happened happened. She’ll be back, don’t you worry.”

  “Will she?”

  “For sure. Football’s in her blood. We’ve just got to give her time, like her dad said. Besides, something big’s going to happen to us this season, with or without Hursty, I just know it is.”