by Tom Palmer
‘Ryan?’ James said.
‘No.’ James’s dad grinned. ‘Me.’
James smiled. ‘You beat Ryan?’
‘Oh yes,’ Dad said.
‘He must have let you win,’ James said.
‘Really?’ Dad laughed. ‘I suppose you’re going to let me win too?’
‘Yeah, right.’
‘Come on then,’ Dad said, narrowing his eyes.
James looked out at the streets again. He thought that they must be in the centre of London. He could see the London Underground tube stations, a tangle of roads, railway bridges.
‘Is there time to play?’ he said. ‘Aren’t we nearly there?’
‘It’ll take a while to get through London,’ Dad said. ‘Plenty of time for me to beat you. Then someone else in the final. Then the prize is mine.’
James sat up. ‘No way!’
The game was even. James scored with his first attack. But his dad equalized, then took the lead. They knew each other’s game too well. James’s dad’s weakness was that he was always West Ham. James was United. That gave him the upper hand, because United were better than West Ham on FIFA 10.
But his dad was so competitive. His players went flying into tackles and he never gave up possession.
With seconds to go it was two–two. Then James’s dad picked up the ball and shot from the halfway line. The ball bounced once in front of James’s keeper. The keeper jumped to catch it, but it slipped through his fingers. And fell into the net.
A massive cheer went up behind James. He looked round. Half the lads were watching the game over his shoulder.
‘Beaten by your old man,’ Craig said, shaking his head. ‘Pathetic, James. Pathetic.’
James shook his dad’s hand, trying to be sportsmanlike, but underneath he felt really angry. More with Craig than his dad.
James’s dad looked over to Tomasz, who had also made it to the final.
‘I’ll have to beat you later, Tomasz,’ he said. ‘We’re nearly there.’
Then there was a shout: ‘Sit DOWN!’ Steve had spotted some of the lads out of their seats.
As the boys got back to their seats the coach turned into a large square and they fell silent. They had all seen it at the same time: a giant clock tower.
‘Big Ben!’ shouted Jake.
‘I saw it when I was down in London to visit my dad,’ Craig said quickly and equally loudly. ‘That’s the Houses of Parliament. And the Ouse is over there.’
‘The Ouse?’ Steve said. ‘Are you sure, Craig?’
‘Yeah!’ But Craig didn’t sound sure.
‘The Thames,’ Yunis said. ‘The Ouse is the river in York.’
Suddenly several people were laughing.
‘And that’s the moon,’ Ryan was saying, trying to speak in Craig’s voice. ‘And behind it, that’s the Pacific Ocean.’
More laughter.
But Craig said nothing. He just scowled at Ryan.
James watched him. And he had a strong feeling that Craig was going to be trouble on this trip – big trouble.
FIFA 10 Semifinal scores
James 2–3 James’s dad
Tomasz 5–1 Sam
Central London
The coach pulled up on a very busy street, next to a towering building that said ‘Student Accommodation’ over the doorway. This was where they were going to stay for the next three nights.
Right in the centre of London.
It was after 6 p.m., but the streets were still packed with shoppers. There was noise from voices and cars – a general rumble that never stopped.
There was a big clothes shop opposite the student accommodation.
‘Look at all those people in there,’ Jake said.
James nodded. It was packed. There were queues at all the tills.
There was also a huge Starbucks cafe. Two floors of people drinking teas and coffees.
‘It’d be really quiet in the centre of town at home by this time,’ James said.
‘I know,’ Jake replied. ‘Is London always like this?’
‘I suppose so,’ James said. He knew: he’d come to the capital a lot with his dad.
‘Don’t you like it?’
‘It’s OK,’ James said.
Jake smiled. ‘Part of me wishes we were at home. All the snow and that.’
James nodded.
‘But playing Arsenal tomorrow,’ Jake said. ‘That’s going to be amazing.’
James nodded again. He tried to smile too. He didn’t want Jake to think he wasn’t as excited as he was.
Once they were inside the student accommodation building, Steve lined everyone up in what looked like a canteen. Fourteen lads and four adults.
James looked around him. He saw loads of tables and chairs and a huge noticeboard with scraps of paper pinned all over it. Along the side of the canteen were large windows, all with metal grilles protecting them from the street.
It looked like a cross between a school and a prison.
‘Right, lads. This is where we’re staying. These rooms belong to students in term time, but the university has cleared them so we can use them.’
‘Have they all gone?’ Sam asked.
‘Who?’
‘The students?’
James heard Craig snigger.
‘Yes, Sam, they’re all home with their parents now, I expect.’ Steve paused. ‘Before we go up to the bedrooms,’ he said, ‘I want to make one thing clear. Once you’re in your rooms, you need to stay there. I don’t want to find you exploring the rest of the building. I want to know where you are all the time. Tomorrow we’ll be out for most of the day and after that we’ll have a chance to do a bit of exploring.’ Steve pointed out to the street. ‘But tonight I want you to eat here in an hour. Then bed. Got it?’
Several lads nodded.
‘After you’ve finished, Will’s mum will be coming round to check you’re all settled in. If there is any messing, there are two things I can do,’ Steve said. ‘One: I can drop you from a game. Two: I can send you home. Understand?’
More nods.
‘I don’t want to be overdramatic and I do want us to have a great time,’ Steve added. ‘But I will do both those things, if necessary.’
James was sharing a room with Jake. He was pleased. Jake was easy-going, like Chi. If he had to stay with someone like Craig it’d be a nightmare.
After they’d eaten in the canteen, James and Jake went back up to their room, following Craig and Sam, who had sprinted up ahead of them.
Once they were settled, Will’s mum came in.
‘OK, boys?’ she said gently.
‘Yes, thanks,’ the two boys said at once.
‘Remember, no messing about and lights out in thirty minutes,’ she said, still in a kind voice.
And James remembered what Steve had said. He knew that if anyone did mess about, Steve would be down on them like a ton of bricks.
Craig in Trouble
The room had two single beds and a sink by the door. Apart from a bit of cupboard space, that was it. James was lying on one of the beds, doing nothing. He was thinking about the match the next day and how he didn’t feel as up for it as he should.
Jake was staring out of the window. He saw that the city was still really busy. Their room was three floors up and there was a lot to watch: groups of men and women walking slowly, calling out to each other, going in and out of pubs and restaurants; people rushing into a tube station; cars beeping at each other.
And the thing Jake noticed most of all: the air was badly polluted. He could taste exhaust fumes even up on the third floor.
Jake craned his neck to look a bit further out. He could just see into a square along the next road. A strange pale light was coming from it, and music.
Something was going on. It wasn’t like the other streets.
‘What do you reckon that is?’ Jake asked.
James jumped off the bed and peered out. He said nothing for a few seconds, then squinted. ‘It’s
an ice rink. Look –’ James pointed – ‘there’s people coming away with skates.’
Jake looked again.
‘You’re right. Do you reckon they’ll let us go tomorrow night?’ he said in an excited voice.
‘I dunno. They’ll be worried we’ll do our ankles, I reckon,’ James said, lying down on the bed again. ‘They won’t want us getting injured.’
‘True,’ Jake agreed. Then he gazed back down at the street. ‘James?’ he said, after a minute. ‘Are you happy at United?’
‘What?’
‘I just feel like you’re not enjoying it. The last few weeks.’
James didn’t know what to say. Had Jake uncovered his secret? Was it so obvious that James was having doubts? How could people tell? Now he was going to have to tell him. Or at least say something.
‘I… I’m not sure,’ James said.
‘How do you mean?’ asked Jake, turning to glance out of the window again.
James didn’t know what to say in response to Jake. He was trying to put the right words together when Jake shouted.
‘James!’
‘Yeah?’
‘Is that Craig?’
‘What?’
James got up again and came over to the window. He looked down. ‘It is,’ he said. ‘What’s he up to?’
Craig was standing outside the door of the student accommodation block, several people walking past him. And a policeman was talking to him.
James called his dad on his mobile. He didn’t need to think twice.
‘Craig’s outside the main door,’ James said quickly, ‘and the police are with him.’
Jake and James watched the rest from their window above. James’s dad – and Steve – were outside in seconds. Steve went up to the policeman and Craig.
The policeman was talking quickly to Steve. He looked angry. They saw Steve nodding, then shaking the policeman’s hand. Then everyone moved out of view, so neither Jake nor James could see what was going on.
They heard the door slam.
And the city carried on making its noises. Everything was back to normal.
‘What was that all about?’ Jake asked.
‘I dunno,’ James replied. ‘But I reckon Craig’s getting a right telling-off now.’
One-Match Ban
There was a strange silence at breakfast the next morning. Something had happened overnight, but nobody knew quite what.
Steve and James’s dad were chatting with Will’s mum. The adults were making sure all the boys had what they wanted to eat. And that they took their empty plates and mugs to the right place.
Nobody dared ask anyone else what had happened.
James looked over at Craig a couple of times, but Craig was just looking at his bowl, moving his cereal around with a spoon, not eating it.
‘Right, lads,’ Steve said.
Nobody even smiled when he said this. It had become a joke that Steve always started saying things with ‘Right, lads’. But today it wasn’t funny.
‘Last night I told you all to stay in the building,’ Steve continued. ‘I’d like to thank the eleven of you that did.’
None of the boys’ eyes moved from Steve.
‘But last night three of you – Craig, Sam and Daniel – did not. Those three were found outside the main door in what could have been a very serious situation. They’re all on a final warning. And they’re all dropped from today’s game.’
A murmur went round the room.
‘It’s my responsibility to keep you safe on this trip,’ Steve went on. ‘We are in London, one of the biggest and therefore potentially most dangerous cities in the world. I’ve said all I’m going to say. Any more trouble and the same punishments apply.’
Steve stood up, took his empty dishes to stack for washing and left the room.
James looked at his dad, but his dad was still talking to Will’s mum.
Then James saw Craig looking at him. There was no expression on Craig’s face. But it made James wonder if Craig knew that it was him who had told the adults he was out on the street last night.
Half an hour later the coach was waiting for them outside the accommodation block.
James sat behind Jake and Yunis. Yunis was the team’s leading scorer, a fast striker who was quiet off the pitch but strong on it.
James was still feeling uneasy. They were going to play the tournament at West Ham’s training ground. His dad’s old club.
Jake was bouncing around in his seat. ‘Do you think they’ll be good?’ he asked.
‘Course,’ Yunis said. ‘They’re Arsenal players, so they must be. And their attack is supposed to be amazing.’
‘Well, James can handle them,’ Jake said, turning round. ‘Can’t you, James?’
James nodded.
‘You’re quiet,’ said Yunis.
‘Yeah.’ James smiled. ‘I just get nervous going to West Ham. Everyone goes mad over Dad – and they make a big fuss of me too.’
Yunis nodded, but said nothing.
Jake looked at James, wishing he’d talked to him more about how he was feeling the night before, when they’d been interrupted by Craig outside on the street.
He felt like James had something to say.
West Ham v Chelsea
West Ham’s training facilities were a bit like United’s: a block of buildings clustered together; several large pitches; a lot of fancy first-team cars in the car park.
James could see that his dad was waiting for him so that they could get off the coach together. Father and son.
And as soon as they were outside, the former West Ham player was being called out to. Every other man in a tracksuit wanted to come up and shake his hand.
‘Cyril! How’s it going?’
‘Cyril! Have you come back for a game?’
‘Cyril! How’s life in the frozen north?’
And everyone was laughing. They were happy to see the man who had lifted the cup for them in the 1980s. The man who had scored the winning goal.
Then the focus turned on James, who had been thinking how strange it was to hear his dad called by his first name. Especially as it was such a weird name.
‘Your lad’s getting big now, Cyril. He’s looking good. Still at United, son?’
‘Yes,’ James said.
‘It’s going OK?’
‘Great,’ James said.
‘You’re going to be pulling on an England shirt one day, son. Just like your dad. I can tell.’
Then there was more laughter.
Jake watched James getting all the attention but looking gloomy. What had James been trying to tell him last night?
‘Right, lads,’ Steve said, calling everyone together. ‘Come on. Let’s get into the dressing rooms. I want us to have a short training session before we watch the West Ham–Chelsea game.’
*
All fourteen players trained on the pitch nearest to the dressing rooms. It was just gentle running and a bit of ball control. They had a match in three hours, so they didn’t want to use up too much energy. Steve had asked the three banned players – Craig and Sam and Daniel – to train too, even though they wouldn’t play later.
But Jake noticed that none of them were trying. Jake was surprised. If he’d been caught doing something wrong, he’d be doing his best to be good, not making it worse.
At one point, when Steve had gone back into the dressing rooms, Jake noticed Ryan go over to them. They talked for a while. Then Craig seemed to shout at Ryan, waving his arms about. Then Ryan walked away, shaking his head.
What’s the matter with Craig? Jake wondered. Why is he being so stupid?
*
After they had trained they went to watch the first game in the tournament.
West Ham had to play Chelsea, then it was Arsenal against United. The winners would play each other the following day for the trophy: the Christmas Cup. There would also be a losers’ final.
James and Jake stood with Connor and Ronan to watch the West Ham–Che
lsea game. It was ten minutes in.
‘They’re good,’ Ronan said.
‘They are,’ Connor agreed.
‘I reckon we could beat West Ham,’ Jake said. ‘But Chelsea look amazing. They like to get lots of crosses into the box early, don’t they, James?’
James shrugged his shoulders. ‘Suppose,’ he said.
‘Steve thinks we need to play direct stuff against them,’ Connor said.
‘Yeah?’ Jake asked.
‘He said we need to be physical. Put them off a bit.’
Jake smiled. He liked Steve and how he was always thinking of ways to stop the other team. That was the difference between playing for a village team and a Premier League under-twelves team.
But if they were to play either of these teams, they had to beat Arsenal. And that was going to be the hardest game they’d had all season.
Arsenal v United
‘This is a good team we’re going to be playing,’ Steve said quietly. ‘And they’ve got a lot of fans.’
United were having their team talk on the pitch, in a huddle, twenty metres from the Arsenal players having their team talk.
Around the pitch there were at least two hundred people watching. They were families of the players and fans of the three London clubs.
‘Don’t be put off,’ Steve went on. ‘We can win this. Arsenal pass it like the men’s team. And they’re strong and fit. But here’s what I want you to do…’
On the pitch everyone had been given a job and some rules on how to play against Arsenal. The first rule was play deep, not to let the Arsenal players get behind them. Keep it very tight, so they had no room to pass in.