Press. Crap. I threw my head back against the headrest and shut my eyes for a few seconds. There was a television crew on standby directly outside the radiology clinic less than fifty metres away from where I’d parked. How did they know? How did they always know?
Sometimes I really did wonder if my phone was tapped or if they had people watching me. I’d never said as much. I didn’t want to come across as paranoid or obnoxious. But when they were already here waiting for me, when the only person who knew my appointment time was Aaron, I had to wonder.
They spotted me and the sports journalist jogged over, followed closely by the cameraman. I knew this reporter. He was a bigger arsehole than most of the others.
He made a circular motion with his index finger and the red light lit up on the camera as I got out of the car and walked around to the footpath. It was at least twenty degrees hotter outside than it was in the car and I started dripping sweat from my armpits right away.
‘Morning, Nick.’
‘Brad,’ I replied through clenched teeth, pulling my sunglasses down off the top of my head.
‘Hear you’re booked in for an MRI this morning, Nick. Is it the same problem that had you miss the end of last season? Are the stress fractures back, Nick?’
He put the microphone close to my face, reaching up to do so because he was a good foot shorter than me. I kept my mouth shut and limped quickly in front of him. The foot was so sore today that I couldn’t even fake it.
‘Must be a big concern if you’re having an MRI. Stress fractures would be enough to keep you out for the majority of the season wouldn’t they, Nick? That’s a fair limp you’ve got there.’ He was right on my tail with his nasally voice ringing in my ears and the cameraman had run around in front of me and was now walking backwards, filming.
I pushed open the door to the clinic and immediately sent Craig a text message:
Just arrived for scan. Brad Marshall outside. Got footage of me limping.
Ignore it – don’t stress. Good luck with the MRI.
I made myself known to the dumbstruck receptionist – Samantha, according to her name tag.
The other patients in the waiting room all stared at us as she ushered me into a private waiting room only to tell me that the radiologist had been held up and would be another half hour at least.
I sifted through the magazines but they were all women’s ones and they were so outdated that an interview with Robin Williams was on one of the covers. I flicked through Facebook and Instagram on my phone and read the latest football news. Half an hour came and went with no sign of the radiologist.
Samantha came back in and batted her eyelashes. ‘So sorry for the delay. Can I get you a coffee while you’re waiting, Mr Harding?’
‘No, I’m good, thanks.’
‘Well, I’m right here if you need anything,’ she purred. ‘Anything at all.’
When she turned to go she tugged down on the tight red skirt that barely covered her butt and gave her hips a little wiggle, looking over her shoulder with a smile. But Samantha’s skirt and her butt wiggling didn’t hold my attention. All I could think about was Anna from when I saw her last night.
We’d only just been seated in her uncle’s busy restaurant when Joel and Bruce figured out what my sudden hankering for Egyptian food was all about. They saw me stealing looks at Anna and they laughed.
‘Egyptian food, hey, Harding?’ Joel smirked. ‘More like a piece of Egyptian arse!’
Bruce snorted, ‘Come on, Nick, leave her alone, mate. Look at her – she’s like twelve years old. She’s only a baby lamb.’
‘And the wolf is going in for the kill.’ Joel rubbed his hands together.
I picked up a menu and busied myself reading it. Heat prickled the back of my neck.
‘She’s pretty for an Arab, though. I get it, mate. That kind of innocence on a hot body, yeah, I get it.’ Joel nudged me with his elbow.
I put the laminated menu down and glared at him.
He raised his arms up in surrender. ‘Don’t worry, mate. She’s all yours!’
‘So, Nick,’ Bruce grinned. ‘Did you actually make it back to your place with that blonde slapper you were dry humping on the dance floor last night? Or did you just fuck in her the taxi so you didn’t get your sheets dirty?’
They reached out to each other across the table for a high-five.
A group of semi-pissed men came over to our table to give us their take on the game.
Bruce and Joel settled down during the meal, still guffawing if they caught me looking at Anna. But the drive home was insufferable.
‘Oh, Niiick,’ Joel mimicked Anna, ‘I will be in rrred swimsuit, hokay?’
Bruce, crying with laughter, joined in. ‘No, no, you must rrrememberrr what my Aunty says, I am nice Muslim virrrgin, hokay? Oh, mate, to think I was going to say no to coming out tonight. That was totally worth having the missus crack the shits over! Best laugh I’ve had for ages.’
I waited until we were in my driveway and then I switched off the engine and turned to look at them both. ‘You pricks talk about her like that again and I swear I’ll kill the pair of you. Show some respect. And you can find your own way home, I’m not driving you.’
They both doubled over in their seats, bellowing with laughter. I left them in the car and stormed out.
‘Hey, Nick,’ Bruce called. ‘Better have your excuses ready for Craig at training tomorrow, mate. I saw the look on his face when you were throwing back shots last night and, mate, you’re fucked! When are you going to pull your head out of your arse and realise you can’t drink during season?’
‘Or is that the only way you can get the old boy up?’ Joel said. ‘Bit of Dutch courage needed with the ladies, mate?’
I slammed my front door hard.
I was angry because they were right. They were right about me needing to pull my head out of my arse and stop drinking during season, and they were right about me and Anna. She was just like a little lamb with her huge trusting caramel eyes, and I was indeed a wolf.
Of course, I wanted to have sex with her. And right this minute I wanted her more than I’d ever wanted anyone else. Her smile when she saw me walk into the restaurant gave me goose bumps. And every single time she looked at me from under her long fringe, it sent the adrenaline soaring through me.
But all I was hoping for, for now, was to be allowed into her life. There was a lot going on behind those beautiful eyes – secrets that I wanted to know.
My thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of the radiologist. He looked at me over the clipboard he was holding.
‘Morning, Mr Harding,’ he mumbled, straightening his glasses. ‘Sorry for the delay. You don’t mind if we take a quick selfie before we do the scan, do you?’
Was he serious?
‘Ah, yeah, sure thing.’
He pulled out his phone and put an arm around me, resting his hand awkwardly on my shoulder. We both fake smiled.
‘Thanks for that. I’ll be a popular dad tonight.’
Finally the scan was done and I was relieved to find no press waiting on my way out of the clinic.
Three hours later, I was back in the club rooms to meet with Aaron. He wouldn’t say anything over the phone.
The head physiotherapist, along with Craig and the head of conditioning were all waiting for me in Aaron’s room.
Oh, God.
My shoulders slumped and my stomach sank. Leaning up against the examination bed was a pair of crutches.
Oh, God.
‘Take a seat, mate.’ Aaron blew out hard through flared nostrils and said the few words that would see me sidelined for months and could perhaps even end my career. ‘Multiple metatarsal stress fractures.’
I felt myself sway, so I gripped the seat of the stool I was perched on with both hands and watched Aaron’s mouth moving. I didn’t hear another word and shut my eyes.
‘Nick. Nick! You okay, mate?’ Craig was standing in front me. ‘You look like you’re about to faint.’
‘Yeah, I’m okay, just got a bit dizzy for a second there. Sorry, Aaron, can you run through that again?’
‘I said it’s time to go home, Nick, and rest it for ten weeks, mate,’ Aaron repeated. ‘We’ve laid out a rehab program for you between us – here’s a copy for you too, Craig. So the plan is to get you doing non-weight-bearing sessions at the gym every day, followed by a hydrotherapy session. We’ll reassess each week and up the program as we need to.’
I nodded again and he continued. ‘I’ll get one of the dieticians to give you a call and talk to you about getting back onto an off-season diet. You’ll need to swallow a shitload of bone-building minerals too, but just check that they’re not on the banned list first before you buy any. We’ll order another MRI in five weeks to check progress, and then again in ten weeks, and hopefully your foot’s as good as gold by then and we’ll take it from there.’
‘Ten weeks?’ Craig squeaked. ‘Isn’t that overkill?’
Aaron shook his head. ‘Under normal circumstances it’d be more like six to eight weeks. But this is Nick’s second onset in six months. We have to be careful here. We can’t risk getting him back out on the park too early. The fact that the fractures are already back suggests we may have rushed his rehab last year. So we have to avoid that this time.’
‘By the time I’m back to match fitness, it’ll be June or July. You’re telling me half of my season’s essentially over, right?’ I asked Aaron the question I already knew the answer to.
‘Sorry, Nick.’
Craig was massaging his temples. ‘So you heard Aaron,’ he said flatly. ‘Turn up for the gym or pool every morning and physio in the arvo. Don’t worry about showing up for team meetings until about week six or seven. Obviously forget training, just do the rehab. And like last year, on game days throw on a suit and sit in the box so you at least get a feel for the competition.’ He sighed long and loud. ‘Fucked if I know who to put on the wing. Dave was good replacing you but he’s out with his knee. Maybe Chris?’ He arched his eyebrows at me and I shrugged.
Chris was shit on the wing.
‘We’ll release a statement tonight at training with a live cross. You want to be there for that?’ Aaron asked me.
I couldn’t shake my head any faster.
I headed out into the car park on the new crutches. They dug into my ribs, and after only a few steps I could tell exactly where the blisters on my palms would be. I remembered how getting in and out of the car, let alone walking, was a nightmare.
I hated what my injury meant for the club. I felt bad for my teammates who were used to how I played and now needed to get accustomed to someone new. I felt accountable for every game where they’d get creamed on the wing. And I was embarrassed that the club was still required to pay me.
But most of all, I was devastated for myself. My life had no point when I didn’t play.
I sped away from the car park with sweat dripping into my eyes, blurring my vision. The fractures were back. They were back. And they were even worse than last time.
I pulled the car over to the kerb a few blocks away, staggered out and vomited in the gutter.
Once I was back in the driver’s seat, I hugged the steering wheel, blasted the air-con on, and breathed deep until the nausea settled. And then I rang the only person I wanted to talk to. I listened to the dial tone and prayed that she’d pick up. She did.
‘Fuuuuuck,’ Lily whispered down the phone when I told her the results. ‘I had a bad feeling about that on Saturday.’
‘I know,’ I moaned. ‘What am I going to do?’
‘Hey, it’s okay. It’ll be all right. Listen, I’ve got some fresh lasagne that I made for you yesterday. Actually it’s not really lasagne because I forgot to put the lasagne in it. I’ll duck over tonight and bring it over okay?’
I smiled to myself. ‘You forgot to put the lasagne in last time too.’
‘Shut up, Nick. It tastes just fine without it.’
‘There’s no need for you to bring me food, Lil. I’ve already got a freezer full of your meals anyway. I only rang because I wanted to tell someone.’
‘You know, I can always repeat this unit. I’ve got an arsehole of a supervisor; I hate the cancer ward so badly I can’t even tell you. It’s only lunch time and I don’t even know how I’m going to get through the rest of the first day, let alone the whole twelve weeks. So I don’t mind chucking this round. What about if I move in while you’re stuck on crutches?’ she said. ‘I could help you with cooking and stuff and I could walk Bluey. Honestly, you’d be doing me a favour,’
‘Thanks anyway, but I don’t want you doing that. No way. I’m a big boy you know. I can look after myself.’
If Lily didn’t pass this oncology unit, she wouldn’t just have to repeat the unit, she’d have to repeat the whole year. I couldn’t believe she was prepared to suffer through another year of study that she hated just to care for me. Well, actually, I could believe it – that was Lil, she’d do anything for me. I felt a huge surge of love for my little sister.
‘I wish Mum would come home,’ I thought out loud.
She sighed. ‘You and me both. But I’m right here.’
‘Thanks.’ I swallowed. ‘Lil, they’ve paid me three-quarters of a million dollars for the season. To do what? Plus after last year’s crappy end of the season, losing all those games in a row, our membership numbers are down. So the club’s pushing hard for a final’s start this year to motivate people to sign up. We can’t get to the finals unless I’m out there on the wing, it’s that simple.’
‘Don’t do that. You can’t put that kind of pressure on yourself. You’re not responsible for the entire club. That’s crazy.’
‘I’m their highest paid footballer. Yes, I bloody well am responsible! I’ve got one and a half million dollars in endorsements for this season alone,’ I moaned. ‘Kids aren’t going to nag their parents for footy boots if I’m not seen running in them. Men aren’t going to rush out and buy aftershave or underwear being modelled by some loser who keeps getting injured. The advertisers made it crystal clear, for products to sell, people have to want to be me. Every single campaign I’m in is based on kids wanting to be me, blokes wanting to be me, women wanting their partners to be me. Who the fuck’s going to want to be me now?’ It was hard to take a deep breath as the enormity of it hit me.
‘Hey, hey, hey.’ She used her gentlest voice. ‘Stop talking as if your injury’s deliberate. None of this is your fault. They’ll make squillions off you later in the season and every season after that so don’t even worry about that.’
It didn’t matter what she said to try and make me feel better, the bottom line was that I was worthless unless I was out there playing.
Bluey whined through the back gate when I pulled into the drive.
I balanced on one crutch to pat him. He sniffed the crutches and whined pitifully. Was he smart enough to remember that these aluminium sticks meant no runs together for us?
‘We’re going to have find you a dog walker again, mate.’ I scratched under his chin.
I defrosted some pasta from one of the dozen meals Lily had left here and flicked on the TV. I watched Saturday’s taped game and picked apart my performance.
My phone rang at three o’clock. It was Craig. Channel Seven had requested that I be at the live cross as they broke my story. We were contracted to them so I had no choice but to be at the club by quarter to six.
There was nothing I hated more than live television. As they set up the bright lights and cameras in my face, I began to overheat. The girl who fixed my earplug in place wiped her hands on her skirt afterwards. My mouth was dry the whole time we were on air but most of the questions were directed at Craig and Aaron, who both gave away as little information as they could about my injury and prognosis without looking like we had something to hide.
Then I was asked if I was hopeful of coming back this season.
‘You better believe it,’ I answered with a smile and a double thumbs up.
I checked my watch, 6.35. Not a lot of time to get to Challenge Stadium before Anna left at seven. I pressed on the accelerator.
The closest parking spot was a hundred metres from the entrance. I checked my watch again – 6.50. No time for crutches. I jogged inside. Each time my foot landed on the bitumen it sent searing pain up my shin.
I hobbled into reception and smiled at the people hanging around there.
‘On ya, Harding!’
‘Love your work, Harding!’
‘Oh my God! It’s Nick Harding!’
‘Hey, Harding, can I please get a selfie with you?’
One selfie turned into four.
I paid for a swim and took the ramp into the pool area. It wasn’t just the humidity that was making my palms sweat. I hadn’t felt this excited about a girl since my crush on Arielle in high school.
The pool was packed. There were dozens of swimmers going up and down each lane. I couldn’t remember which lane she said she’d be in. Red bathers, look for red bathers. I couldn’t see any. My heart sank as I walked further along the width of the pool.
But then I found her. In the farthest lane, I spotted her gorgeous olive skin in a bright red one-piece.
Unable to control what I knew must be an idiotic grin, I squatted down near the end of her lane, putting all my weight on the right with my sore foot out in front.
Her freestyle was flawless as she glided towards me. It looked completely effortless and with a beautiful steady rhythm. I was ridiculously turned on watching her bare legs kick through the water.
She saw me just as she approached the end and a smile escaped before she turned her face back into the water for the last couple of strokes. When she reached the wall, she rested her forearms up on the edge and with one hand she took off her goggles and shook out her hair.
‘Hey.’ I leaned my head down close to her so she could hear me above the noise. ‘Sorry I’m so late.’
‘I thought you decided not to come,’ she panted.
‘I was always going to come. But I had to do an interview at the last minute. Sorry.’
‘Oh yes, of course, I see.’ She wiped the dripping water from the tip of her nose and off her eyebrows.
‘Do you want to grab a coffee, Anna?’ I took a couple of slow breaths to settle my racing heart.
‘Hokay.’ She nodded several quick little nods and pulled herself out of the pool in one graceful motion so that we stood face to face. ‘I am happy you came, Nick.’ She beamed and walked past me to reach for a blue beach towel on a nearby plastic chair.
Somewhere in the distance people were calling my name but as I watched her wrap herself up in the towel and dry off her hair, I heard nothing. She was tight and toned and had curves in all the right places. I couldn’t stop staring. I gave up altogether on trying to slow the heart rate down.
She looked around us and then at me. ‘Does this happen everywhere you go? This shouting of your name and this cheering, and people taking photographs of you? It seems like everybody here is watching you.’
‘Yeah, it’s pretty normal. Not just for me though. It’s like this for my friends too.’
‘This is a hard way to live. Being well known brings too much pressure.’
‘Mmm, yeah. You ready to go?’ I was suddenly uncomfortable with everyone’s eyes on us and felt the need to shield her.
‘Of course I am not ready to go.’ She laughed. ‘I am dressed in only a towel! I will get changed into some proper clothing and you will wait here, hokay?’
I stared at her calves until she disappeared from my view into the change rooms.
While she was gone, I signed autographs for kids and posed for more selfies with teenagers. One girl in a teeny bikini, who wouldn’t have even been sixteen-years-old yet, cocked her head to the side and with an inviting smile asked me if I’d like her number. I pretended I didn’t hear her.
‘Hi, Nick,’ came a breathy voice from behind me.
I turned around to see a girl I didn’t know. She was spray-tanned orange and wearing tiny gym shorts and a crop top that was way too small for the breasts that swamped it.
‘Hi.’ I looked away as another kid called out to me.
‘It’s me . . . Monique.’ She poked the tip of my shoulder with two fingers.
I turned my attention back to her. Monique? Who was Monique? ‘Oh yeah, Monique. How’s it going?’
‘You don’t have a clue who I am, do you? Do you, Nick?’ she said with spite, loudly enough for people walking past to turn their heads.
‘No, I do,’ I lied, trying not to look at her orange boobs falling out of the bottom of her crop top.
‘Bullshit you do. Well, you were bloody keen to know me at Pulse, even if you don’t remember me now.’ She spat, flicking her long bleached-blonde ponytail.
Shit. I sucked in the humid air. ‘I’m sorry, Monique. If we met at Pulse I was most likely pissed, so that’s why I’m a bit slow remembering. I know it’s lame, sorry. It’s good to see you again anyway.’ I felt about a foot tall.
Anna appeared beside me. She smiled at Monique. ‘Hello,’ she said brightly.
Monique looked her up and down. ‘Nice clothes.’
Anna was in a spotted yellow T-shirt tucked into striped overall shorts along with the same purple boots she had on yesterday. ‘Thank you,’ she said in a faltering voice.
Monique stared at her some more, rolling her tongue around inside her cheek. ‘Don’t go thinking you’re anything special, sweetie. You’re probably the last girl left in Perth he hasn’t screwed yet. He’s obviously gone through the pretty ones.’
Anna jerked her head back as if she’d been slapped.
Monique then turned back to me. ‘You’re scum, Nick Harding – and everyone knows it. I can’t believe you don’t remember me. Thought I gave you the deepest best blowjob you ever had. Your words, Nick, your words.’
My voice cracked, ‘There’s no need for that.’ I looked at Anna who was studying her black-painted fingernails.
‘I am ready to leave now, thank you, Nick,’ Anna said in a barely audible voice.
I put a protective arm around Anna’s shoulders as we walked out.
‘Have fun with your woggy dyke, Nick!’ Monique called after us and I felt Anna stiffen.
I ignored the other people who called my name and shouted congratulations for Saturday’s win. The bile was thick in my mouth.
As soon as we were away from the stadium, out far enough in the car park that nobody could hear us, I stopped and turned Anna by the shoulders to face me.
‘I’m sorry! I’m so sorry that happened. I had no idea who that girl was. I honestly can’t even remember meeting her.’ I held my forehead. ‘And those horrible things she said to you, they had nothing to do with you. She was just trying to rile me.’
Anna’s bright smile from before was gone. She looked at me steadily and spoke in a quiet measured voice without breaking eye contact. ‘I will tell you truthfully what I am thinking, Nick. I am thinking that I am not a girl who wants to be forgotten. And I am not a girl who will sleep with you just because you are a famous footballer. I am a girl who wants something real and meaningful.’ She swallowed. ‘I understand that we are coming from very different cultures and walks of life, the two of us. But when you came to my uncle’s restaurant, I was happy. That is what I know for certain – that seeing you made me happy when I had not felt much happiness lately. And I felt the same way again seeing you here tonight. I do not know if in a day or in a week or in a year we will realise that we are not suited to each other, but at the moment I feel a pull towards you that I cannot explain.’ She took a long breath before continuing. ‘However, I am only willing to get to know you if you have a genuine interest in me – not if your intention is to sleep with me and then forget about me. I am not prepared to be a scorned girl like the one we just met.’ She rubbed her arms and shivered.
Who was this girl? What had she done to me? All that mattered was what she thought of me. And I had no freaking idea why that was so important. But it was.
‘I’m being completely honest, Anna, when I say that more than anything in the world, I want to get to know you and hopefully come to mean something to you. And I could never forget you. Even if you walked away now, I’ll never forget you.’
She nodded. ‘Am I a fool, Nick? Am I a fool to still be standing here talking to you after what happened in there? There is also the knowledge that my aunty recognised you from being in magazines with other women. And you asked me not to google you – that cannot be good. If you are somebody who has hurt other girls, will you make a fool of me too?’
‘No. I promise you, no.’
‘Why? How is this different?’
I took a deep breath. ‘I admit that I have been with a lot of girls. I’m not proud of it. I’m actually ashamed of myself for it. I know it sounds crazy, but it feels like I was meant to meet you when I did and that I was meant to start fresh – with you. Yesterday, I desperately wanted to bring meaning to my life because it had been toxic for a long time and I couldn’t remember the last time I was genuinely happy. So I made a promise to myself to become a better person. And then, only a few hours later, I met you. I don’t know what else to say except that since I met you I feel like a different man to the one I was before. And whatever it is that’s going on here between us is special to me.’
She bit her lip and looked away. ‘Yesterday? That was when you wanted a fresh start? Only yesterday? So the day before yesterday?’
I looked at the ground.
‘Oh,’ she said in a small voice.
‘The day before yesterday is what I’m leaving behind. I’m sorry I have a past to be ashamed of, and I’m sorry that my past goes right up until two days ago. Look, you can go home and google me if you want. You’ll find images of me possibly drunk and with different girls. I can’t make that stuff go away. But it’s over now, I swear it is.’ I clasped my hands behind my head and waited for her answer.
She looked long and hard at me. ‘I believe you.’
She believed me?
I couldn’t do anything to break that trust, to break that innocent heart. It struck me again how fragile she was.
‘I’m so relieved to hear that.’ I dropped my arms from behind my head and felt the tension leave my shoulders. ‘You know, you come across as such a strong person but there’s also something fragile about you. I barely know you, but I have this overwhelming need to look after you, to protect you.’
‘Hmm, “fragile” is my favourite word, Nick. Such a beautiful word “fragile”. I wrote a poem I called “Fragile” only this morning.’
‘Did you really?’
‘I did indeed. But you are mistaken. I am not fragile and I do not need looking after. Believe me, I know how to look after myself.’ Her eyes had a hardened look when she said that.
‘I can believe that. How old are you, by the way?’
‘Nineteen.’
I raised my eyebrows. ‘Really? I thought you were older.’
‘For someone with so much experience with women, you have not yet learned that you are supposed to tell a woman she looks younger not older than her age?’ She smiled for the first time since we’d walked out of the pool. ‘Maybe there are still some things left that I can teach you.’
I wanted to know all that lay beneath the surface of this nineteen-year-old woman-child who had a favourite word and a sexy husky laugh and who wasn’t afraid to lay down the law to a man she’d only just met.
‘Did you drive here?’ I asked.
‘No, I came by bus.’
‘Do you want to come in my car then to go get that coffee?’
‘Oh. Ah, no thank you, Nick. You see, when you said ‘grab a coffee’, I thought you meant here in the pool coffee shop. I did not realise that you wanted to go somewhere different. My mother will be worried if I am much later than expected. So I will catch a bus home now and perhaps we can meet again another day?’
My heart sank. ‘Can’t you ring your mother and say you’ll be late? We’ve hardly had a chance to talk. I don’t know anything about you yet.’
‘Why such a hurry? We have tomorrow and the day after and the day after that.’
‘Well, let me drive you home then.’
‘Hokay, Nick, thank you. That is a kind offer.’
‘Your English is amazing considering you only left Egypt a year ago.’
‘Yes that would be amazing if it was the case but I have been speaking English my whole life. I was educated in English schools. But I am trying to improve. My uncle tells me I still sound too formal and foreign.’
‘No, you sound perfect. I really like your accent . . . It’s sexy.’
‘Is that so?’ Her eyes twinkled. ‘Well, I really like your accent too.’
‘Do you think it’s sexy though?’ I grinned.
She laughed but didn’t answer.
My gaze dropped from her lips to her neck and to the line of her cleavage, peeking out just a fraction. I desperately wished I could kiss all those parts. The tension was playing havoc inside my shorts.
I walked her to my car and opened the door for her before getting in the driver’s side.
‘Your foot is very bad, isn’t it Nick? I can see you are in pain. Did you have the scan?’ She asked once we were both in the car.
‘I did, yeah. It’s broken,’ I admitted with a heavy sigh. ‘I’ve got stress fractures in the bones, which means lots of small breaks.’
She rested her hand on my forearm. My skin under her touch felt red hot.
‘Oh, no! So you cannot play football?’
‘Not for the next two and a half to three months at least. I’m not even supposed to be walking on it.’ Saying the words out loud depressed me.
‘Then why are you walking on it? You should be following orders.’
‘I was running late for you. I left the crutches here in the backseat so I could get in there faster.’
‘Nick, this is not just any broken foot. This foot belongs to Nicholas Harding from the Western Rangers.’
I chuckled. ‘I like it when you say my full name. It’s sexy hearing you say it like that, like I’m in trouble.’
She clicked her tongue. ‘This is sexy, that is sexy. Is everything sexy to you?’
‘Yeah, with you, yeah.’
She blushed under the look I gave her. ‘Listen to me, Nicholas Harding.’ She cocked an eyebrow. ‘This is an important foot. I do not want be responsible for making the foot of my uncle’s favourite footballer worse. You walked on it when you are not supposed to just for me – that is quite foolish but also very sweet.’
‘Sweet?’ I shot her a sideways look. ‘You’re not supposed to think I’m sweet. I’m dangerous and mysterious.’
‘Ha! Not so much. So, tell me, you cannot play football but can you still work?’
‘That is my work. None of the Rangers have other jobs – playing in the AFL is a full-time job.’
‘Ah, I see. So what happens now?’
‘I’ll have a lot of free time, that’s what.’ I sighed. ‘I have to go to the gym and do hydrotherapy. I’ll go to some meetings, do a bit of charity work. That’s about it.’
‘Why do you look so worried? Is it that terrible?’
I turned in my seat to fully face her and told her the long story of how the same thing happened last year. ‘Basically I’m worried that because the fractures came back in my very first match after rehab, it might mean these bones in my foot are particularly weak. So the fear is it might happen again after this rehab. If it did, I’m pretty sure that would be the end of my career. I don’t think any club would sign me after that.’
‘I understand. I hope this is the last time you have this injury. But now what will you do for an income while you are injured?’
So I told her about how my contract worked and about my guilt at letting everyone down. I talked to her about my dreams for this season being over and how I didn’t have much going for me apart from playing.
She listened without interruption. When I stopped, she stayed silent and looked out her window. After a while she asked, ‘It is not just your foot that is broken, is it? The way you speak, even something about the way you look, is like someone who has a broken heart. Am I right?’
My heart tugged in my chest. ‘You are. It’s funny though because I thought the same thing about you.’
‘Yes, well you are right. My heart is broken.’ She blew air up her fringe and stared out the windscreen. ‘Is it time you drive me back to my house now, Nick?’ It was more a statement than a question.
‘Sure.’
I turned the key in the ignition and the car came to life. Anna was still staring out the windscreen, deep in thought.
Oh crap, she was obviously upset remembering whoever it was that had given her that broken heart.
‘You okay, Anna?’
She turned to face me. ‘Yes, yes, I am hokay. So this hydrotherapy rehabilitation – this is swimming, yes?’
‘Yep, it’s exercise in water. Swimming’s part of it. Why?’
‘Would you like to join me for a swim here tomorrow?’
I broke into a huge grin. ‘Hell, yeah, I’ll come swimming with you!’
‘Good! I thought perhaps if we swim together then it would be not so lonely for you to do the rehabilitation.’
‘You’re literally the sweetest person ever. And then could I take you out for a meal somewhere after the swim tomorrow?’
‘No, the only time I will have free is when I come for the swim late in the afternoon. I am busy all day aside from that.’
‘Surely you stop to eat though?’
She shook her head. ‘I will eat lunch on the bus to the hospital after my morning shift at Black Salt, and I will eat dinner in the kitchen at Masri’s just before we open for the evening.’
‘Hospital? What hospital?’ I switched off the ignition.
She looked down into her lap. ‘My family care for a little boy. His name is Ricky. He had leukaemia but he is healing now. He has had the last of the blood transfusions so he should be coming home this week.’ She paused. ‘I hope so anyway. And then we will just need to take him back for regular blood transfusions and he will be hokay. This is what the doctors say.’
‘That sounds intense. Great that he’s doing better, though. I can’t believe how packed your day is, working two jobs and going to the hospital. Is that a normal day for you?’
She nodded.
‘So you’re not a student then? I don’t know why but I assumed you were a student when I saw you at Black Salt.’
‘I am not a student at the moment but I will be in July.’ Her eyes lit up. ‘Next semester I start at Curtin University School of Law.’
‘Law? I’m impressed!’
‘Well, do not be too impressed until I pass.’ She laughed.
‘So why are you starting in July instead of now? I thought university started this week.’
‘It did, yes.’ She sighed. ‘It was more complicated than you can imagine to get accepted even with the recognition for my International Baccalaureate. A long and frustrating process that began last July and was only settled last month. By then the places for law for this semester were taken and I got into the next semester under special consideration.’
‘Ugh, what a pain. So, will you be going full-time?’
‘No, no. I need to work. And I must help look after Ricky. So if I do the first year part-time over two years, God willing by then Ricky will be in remission. And my mother . . .’ She stopped and bit her lip. ‘My mother will be better by then too, and perhaps be able to get a job herself, so then I could increase to full-time studies.’
‘Is your mum sick?’
She considered this before answering, ‘In a way, yes.’
Hmm. I decided to leave my questions about that for later. ‘Will you still work both jobs while you study next semester? Surely not?’
‘I will keep both jobs, yes.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes, helping at Masri’s is the least I can do for my Uncle Fariz. And I also need a job that pays, so I cannot give up my work at Black Salt.’
She worked in her uncle’s restaurant for free? ‘Your uncle doesn’t pay you to work for him? That’s terrible!’
‘Oh no, Nick, my Uncle Fariz is the most wonderful, wonderful man! He has given us a home, he buys everything for us and he pays all the bills. He even pays for everything for Ricky – all the medical bills, the lawyer bills to keep him in Australia. Helping in the restaurant some nights is nothing compared to what he does for us.’
‘Hang on, is Ricky a refugee?’
‘Soon he will be. For now he is still an asylum seeker, but his paperwork is almost complete. He is being sponsored by my uncle and aunty, even though my mother and I are his carers. We are not allowed to be his sponsors.’
‘Is that because you’re refugees too?’ I held my breath.
She blinked and nodded, and instinctively I reached for her hand.
‘Do you want to talk about it?’
She took a big breath. ‘Yes, I would like talk about it with you. But not tonight. It is not my entire family who survived, you see, and it is not an easy story for me to tell.’
‘Your dad?’ I ventured.
Her eyes met mine. ‘Yes.’
I gulped. ‘My dad passed away too.’
‘So you understand then, Nick.’ She exhaled.
I nodded, not trusting myself to answer. We sat in silence and I stroked the back of her hand with my thumb.
‘I seriously can’t believe how much you do already and that you’re about to take on a law degree as well,’ I said after a while.
She let out a tiny chuckle. ‘I have not told you about Asylum Assist yet.’
‘Don’t tell me you have a third job.’
She laughed. ‘I volunteer for Asylum Assist every Friday afternoon for three hours in the office in the city.’
‘Any wonder you don’t have time to stop and eat during the day! So what is Asylum Assist exactly? What do you do there?’
‘We are a group who advocate for children in detention on Bluff Island. I help coordinate the applications and I help with translating English documents into Arabic and vice versa.’
‘Don’t you get overwhelmed? That’s really full on.’
‘Of course, I get overwhelmed . . . all the time. But every day that I am fortunate enough to spend in this peaceful and free country, there are children growing up in offshore prisons. I must do what I can to help. I deserved asylum no more than any of those children who were denied it. I was raised to fight for what I believe in and I believe in this. So I will not give up until those children are all given asylum.’ She spoke with a fiery passion.
‘Is that why you’re studying law?’
‘Precisely. The more knowledge I have, the more powerful my voice will be.’
I made a mental note to look up Asylum Assist when I got home, and to look up Bluff Island Detention Centre, and to basically look up whatever I could to educate myself on these things that had never been important to me before.
‘Seriously, though, do you ever get free time?’ I asked.
‘Swimming is the thing that is just for me.’
‘I feel very privileged, then, that you invited me to join you, even though that’s the only thing you do for yourself.’
She grinned.
‘But what about a social life? You know – pubs, clubs, cinemas, going out for meals. When do you get to see your friends?’
‘I do not have time for friends,’ she said. ‘I had friends in Alexandria, when my life was different. Here in Perth, I enjoy the company of the people I work with at Black Salt and at Asylum Assist. We text each other or chat on Facebook sometimes. But going out? Pubs and clubs? No. No time.’
I let this sink in. ‘What about me? Will you have time for me?’
‘For you, I will make time.’
I gave a little fist pump and she smiled.
‘So tomorrow at five o’clock, you are free to come and swim with me, Nick?’
‘I’ll clear my busy schedule of lying on the couch to make sure I am. But can I take you out another night this week? Like on a real date?’
She was quiet for a bit. ‘Thursday. Take me somewhere on Thursday.’ She checked her watch and gasped. ‘It is late, Nick! My mother, she will worry.’
I picked a strand of her wavy wet hair and tucked it behind her ear. She inhaled shakily and I smiled, encouraged by her reaction to my touch. But straightaway, her aunt’s voice rang in my ear about how innocent she was, then Joel’s voice joined in, reminding me that I was a wolf.
And I thought about how her aunt had her hair covered in a hijab. Even though Anna wasn’t dressed how I thought Muslims dressed, she was still a Muslim girl, new to Australia, and had a whole different culture with different standards.
My life was – and as long as I played for the Rangers would remain – a three-ringed circus. I had no right to be dragging her into it.
‘What is it, Nick? What is troubling you?’
‘I was just thinking about how my life is really full-on, Anna. More than you can think. It’s unfair to bring you into it. It would be like feeding you to the wolves. That girl who was mean to you back there? That would be the tip of the iceberg.’
‘I can understand this, yes. But people like that girl do not concern me. As long as you treat me well, Nick, nothing else matters, hokay?’
‘But what about you being Muslim?’
She belly-laughed. ‘What about it?’
‘Well, I don’t know.’
How could I make myself not sound like a bigot? ‘Don’t you have rules about going out with non-Muslims?’
She was still laughing. ‘If you follow the Koran to the letter, then, yes, there are such rules. Just like if you follow the Bible to the letter, then you should not be in a relationship with a Muslim, yes?’
‘I suppose. I don’t really know the rules in the Bible that well, to be honest. So are you, like, practising and stuff? I know I’m going to sound like a dickhead here, but, you know, your hair, the way you dress – I had a different idea about how Muslim women looked. I mean, it’s not like I think you have to be totally covered head to toe or anything. But I didn’t expect for a Muslim woman to have your kind of hairstyle or wear a top that shows a bit of . . .’ I came to a stop when she crossed her arms and gave me a pointed look.
‘A bit of what, Nicholas Harding?’
I let my eyes drop to her cleavage. ‘You know . . .’ I literally couldn’t say the word. I was shocked at my own prudishness. And worse – I could feel myself blushing!
She reached into her bag and pulled out her phone.
‘What are you doing?’ I asked.
‘Sending my mother a message that I will be late. I think I need to teach you some things about Muslim women before you drive me home.’
Once she read her mother’s reply, she put the phone away and clasped her hands together.
‘Nick, the world is full of Muslim women who wear the hijab and dress conservatively, of course. But there are just as many of us, maybe even more, who do not. There are Muslim women who are bikini models. It is just that they blend in with non-Muslims more so you do not notice them. Just like most men who practise Buddhism do not shave their heads and wear robes, but that is how Buddhists are imagined the world over, yes?’
‘Right, okay. I’d never thought of it like that. So are you religious? Do you pray to Allah? Do you fast?’
She gave me a quizzical smile. ‘Why are you so interested in my religion?’
‘I don’t know. Just trying to find my feet with it all, I guess. So . . . are you a practising Muslim?’
‘I believe in Allah, yes. The same God you believe in. You are Christian, yes?’
I tilted my head from side to side. ‘Er, kind of. I was raised Christian. Yeah, I guess I believe in God. I pray, you know, sometimes. Mostly when I want something.’
‘Well, we are the same. We both believe in God and we both pray when we want something.’
‘So do you fast? Do you eat bacon?’
‘No and no. Have I passed the religion test yet, Nick?’ She raised her eyebrows.
Now I really did feel like a dick. ‘Sorry. It’s just that this is all so new to me. I’ve never even met a Muslim person in real life before you.’
‘You have most likely met hundreds of Muslims before me. It is just that you did not know it because they were in disguise as regular people.’ She paused. ‘I am, in fact, as much of a Christian as I am a Muslim.’
‘Huh?’
‘I have enjoyed seeing your reaction to me as a Muslim woman, but my mother is Christian.’
‘Really? Why didn’t you say?’
‘If I had told you my mother was Christian, you would have automatically assumed that this must explain the way I am dressed. Am I right?’
‘Yeah, for sure.’
She smiled. ‘So I wanted you to understand that I can present in exactly the same way, whichever religion I follow.’
‘Lesson learned,’ I conceded. ‘So do you identify as a Muslim or a Christian?’
‘You have so many big questions of someone you have only just met, do you know that?’
‘Sorry,’ I chuckled. ‘I didn’t mean to grill you like this, I’m just fascinated, that’s all.’
‘If anyone was to ask me what religion I am, I would say Muslim. When I fill in forms, I write that I am Muslim. But my parents believed that each person should make their own choices in regards to faith, so I was never forced to follow the laws of the Koran. In my old home both Muslim and Christian feasts were observed. For example, my father would fast during Ramadan and my mother would fast during Lent. Presents were given out at Eid and Christmas. But neither religion was pushed on me. I have taken different ideals from both.’
‘That’s an unusual way to grow up.’
‘Perhaps to you. But in Egypt, marriages between Muslims and Christians are common. Many children are raised this way.’
‘I never knew that. That’s actually really cool. So you follow some rules from each religion and kind of make up your own faith as a mix of the two, is that right?’
‘No, not at all. I follow none of the rules from either religion. I refuse to be told by others in what way I have to connect with Allah. But I believe in Allah wholeheartedly. In my eyes, Allah cannot be a doctrine or made to fit into any text, you see. He is too big for that. Allah is everywhere and in everything.’
‘But you said you don’t eat bacon.’ I frowned, completely confused. ‘That’s an Islamic rule, isn’t it?’
‘I do not eat bacon because I do not like the taste.’
‘Ah.’ I pulled a face. ‘Well that makes me look like a real idiot. But hang on, you say “Allah” – isn’t that Muslim too?’
‘Allah is simply the Arabic translation for God.’
‘Right, now I look like an even bigger idiot! But I’m still confused. If you don’t follow the rules of the Koran, why do you call yourself Muslim?’
‘In Egypt, because I was born to a Muslim father, I am considered Muslim.’
‘Do you mind that?’
‘No, not at all.’ She shook her head. ‘It makes me happy and proud. It is another way for me to honour my father, like taking his name. Also, Nick, you need to understand, the core of Islam is truly beautiful. It promotes peace and love and kindness. It is not the Islam broadcast by the media, the Islam that is smeared by oppressive and violent people.’
She sighed and then gave me a sideways look. ‘So, after this very long philosophical discussion, have you found your feet with my Muslim identity?’
‘Not really. Your aunt still scares the shit out of me with all her talk about honour!’
She burst out laughing again. ‘Ah, yes, of course, you have good reason to be very afraid of Tante Rosa!’
‘Tell me about it! But, Anna, there’s something else I want to know and I promise this is the last question. Forget your aunt, just between you and me, are there any rules I need to stick to? I just want to make sure I respect your values.’
I chewed my lip, hoping she understood my meaning.
She took forever to answer.
‘One rule.’ She held up a finger. ‘Do not treat me badly because then you will feel the wrath of an Egyptian woman! And if you are wondering what an Egyptian woman is capable of when she is scorned, just familiarise yourself with the stories of the pharaohs, hokay?’ She nodded. ‘But I know exactly what you are thinking about, Nick, when you ask about rules between us, and the answer to what you are thinking is no.’
My heart sank. I certainly didn’t intend on sleeping with her right away, but God, a straight-out no?
But then she continued. ‘Between you and me there are no rules you need to stick to, as you said. I do not like doctrines, remember? I make my own rules.’ She smiled. ‘But now, Nicholas Harding, it really is time for you to take me home, hokay?’
I was aching to kiss her. ‘Hokay.’ I ran my index finger along her jawline.
She pointed at me with a smile. ‘I do not remember giving you the right to poke fun at my accent.’
‘But off courrrse I would nawt do zat, hokay?’
‘Stop that or I will poke fun at your funny way of walking. You will drive me home now and tomorrow we shall swim, yes?’
‘Hokay, off courrrse, yass.’
She threw her head back and laughed.