I enjoyed the chance to soak up a rare Monday morning lie in. Mum and Dad took care of Sammy. I could hear the little guy’s "Flugh, flugh, flugh," as she scrubbed at his face with a flannel lathered with soap. I grinned and pulled my duvet under my armpits. Anthony and I had dreaded the flannel, preferring to run around with mud on our faces than have soap injected up our noses. Now, that could sting for hours.
For the first time in as long as I could remember, I felt relaxed.
I'd been honest, not just with the people I loved, but rather with myself.
Since I was sixteen I'd been driven by one thing, one desire; to be the very best I could be. I grazed my finger over the scar on my eyebrow. In ten years, I'd never let myself dwell on the memory of that day. The day I'd met Betsy, and we'd become best friends over my gushing blood. The day that I'd caught the man who would later become the Lancashire Lion out, and he'd given me a glare that would have turned me to stone if I wasn't so jubilant that I'd just caught out the English rising star.
I hadn't been modest. I'd shaken my booty in his face, and he'd turned purple.
Then later, when I'd been smoked in the eye with the hard, red ball, he'd smiled and said girls shouldn't play if they couldn't take the pain. Then he'd turned on his heel and walked away, leaving me bleeding.
I'd taken pain every day since that moment to prove that I was worthy of playing.
Because of what he’d said.
Jase Willis.
Jonathan Willis.
Ironic indeed that he was the one to turn my heart to wanting something other than pain. Something other than cricket.
Sighing and stretching beneath my duvet, I felt such relief wash through me, I could have cried. I just had to get through the final game and then I would walk away.
The envelope Betsy had given me still sat on the nightstand, and I fingered the crumpled paper. Inside was a prospect I hadn't thought of.
After Mum and Dad had left to drop Sammy at school, I slipped out of bed and jumped in the shower, standing for a long while, allowing the water jets to spill over my skin. My mind was in a dirty place as I thought back over my moments in the shower with the Lion. Sex had never been a thing for me, not really. The game had always been more. But as my body heated and I remembered what it had been like with him, I knew I'd never go back to the way it was. My body wouldn't allow it. I wanted that permanently, the thought of having to try to meet someone who I could create that with was daunting. But now I knew it was possible, I knew I'd have to try.
Once I was dressed, I headed to the shed in the garden where all my spare cricket supplies were stashed. More wickets and pads than one woman should own, surely? Half of it was Anthony's though, which mean's half of it was Sammy's. And it was Sammy that was going to enjoy it that afternoon.
When I parked the car outside the school reception, the sports coach jogged lightly down the steps and helped me unload the car. "Thank you so much for this. The kids are going to love it."
"Well, Sammy said he couldn't cope with much more Kwick cricket."
The coach grinned. "Sammy needs to remember that not everyone comes from cricketing royalty."
I thrust another massive holdall filled with a lifetime of cricket bats into his arms. "Why did you tell him he would only ever play local cricket? That was cruel."
The coach shook his head. "It was just a push, of course, he is better than that."
"But your words weren't encouraging. They were spiteful."
"That's sport."
Girls shouldn't play if they can't take the pain.
I loaded another heavy bag, right, time to make that bastard sweat. "That's not encouragement."
I spun my back on him and made my way around the side of the building to where the field was located, swinging just my car keys in my hand. The overloaded, cruel-mouthed pack donkey stumbled behind me.
I was unloading the bags, working out where to pitch mini games when a shout pulled my attention. Twelve bright pink figures strolled over the grass, some form of flamingo mirage. I straightened up, not sure what I was looking at. I blinked and then I blinked again.
It was the Red Cats, all of them, with the captain hanging back. They crowded around me all of them jibing me about my day off. "You guys should be training," I admonished them. "It's the final on Friday. You can't afford to slack."
The captain stepped up, his eyes focused on my left shoulder. "This seemed like a good cause."
I tilted my head, fumbling around inside my brain for words. "Thank you," I said and I was embarrassed to admit that tears prickled along my eyes. This Lion of a man would never cease to surprise me.
“So what are you thinking coach?" he nodded at my thanks and turned to business.
"Split them into mini-teams and concentrate on batting and bowling. Proper rules, though, none of that kiddy stuff." That tick worked the corner of his mouth. "If you're out you are out."
There was a screech, and a barrel of dark hair paced the field. Slow, my bloody arse. The Lion and I were stood close enough together that the little guy was able to throw his arms around both of us at once. Icy blue eyes settled on my face for the briefest moment, but I refused to meet them. Instead, I focused on Sammy. "Ready for some real cricket?" He slapped me a high five that bloody stung and then worked his way around the rest of the team like he was their oldest friend. I knew he'd miss that. He'd probably miss the team more than I would.
When the first class came out, there was screeching and whoops of excitement and the players puffed out their chests with pride. I still couldn't believe that they were there, that they'd taken time out of their last minute training schedule to come to Sammy's school and help me. My eyes wouldn't stop flicking towards the Lion as he helped a group of eight-year-old girls with their batting stance.
"Can girls even play cricket?" I heard one of them ask when he'd corrected her grip five times in a row.
He pointed to me, and I pretended not to notice. "See Sammy's Aunt over there," he said, his voice that gentle burr that did things to my stomach I didn't even want to contemplate. "She's the very best. Always has been, so yes girls can play. Some girls play better than boys."
This comment started a discussion that had the prospect of turning into a sexual equality debate. "Here." I held my hand for the bat, enjoying the heavy pull it made on my fingers.
The Lion chuckled as I stepped up to the crease and he paced back, rubbing a ball along his thighs. I knew he wasn't going to take it easy on me and nor did I want him too. He'd tear his rotary muscles again if it meant taking me out for a golden duck.
The ball span through the air, whipping a path towards me so fast I could barely see it. But in truth I didn't need to see it, I could sense it, feel it, its trajectory spoke to me deep within my gut. I held back, waiting for the perfect timing and then whirled the bat towards it, holding as much power in my shoulders as I could summon. The ball cracked against wood and then flung across the other side of the field, scattering some pigeons perched in some tall fir trees.
The Lion clapped; a grin across his face. "And that's why she's the best,” he murmured with pride.
His words made my stomach tighten and squeeze and my heart stutter. Sammy ran up towards me and flung his arms around my waist, burying his head into my tummy. "Aunty Lyssi, you should always play."
I rubbed my wrist at my eyes as I crouched down towards him. "But I want to be with you, every minute of the day. That's better than any six I could ever hit."
He shook his head. "Daddy used to say he really stopped playing because he got tired of you winning."
Bollocks, I was going to cry in front of the team and masses of children.
"He did not. He stopped playing because he loved you and your mum."
Sammy gave another firm shake. "No, he said he didn't want to be second best anymore."
By the time the parents began to arrive to collect their kids the whole school was out on the field. Mini games were still taking place, but other Red Cats players were sprawled on the grass talking to the older kids. Members of staff were out. Bailey was getting a lot of lingering looks from Sammy's teacher, which was totally gross. I jumped when an arm landed on my shoulder. "I meant what I said."
I stiffened; my heart racing at his proximity. "What?"
"You are the best. It's a sacrilege really that cricket doesn't have you anymore."
"You know why."
"I know why you think why."
He still had his arm around me, and I knew we were getting sidelong glances. He didn't seem to want to move it, though. "I'm not like you, Jonathan." His eyes blinked slowly, as I said his full name. I don't even know why I did, other than the simple fact that's who he was to me now, just Jonathan.
He leant in, his breath brushing against the skin of my throat as he whispered. "You are more like me than you will ever know."
When we got home, I was exhausted but also energised. My blood was pumping in my veins, zapping with more energy than I'd felt for a whole year. As I stashed Anthony's stuff back in the shed a few tears slipped down my cheeks and for a terrible long, aching moment I wished I could rewind our lives. That we could be stood out in our back yard together, hitting balls and pushing each other, egging each other on, and he could grin at me with those freckles crinkled across his nose and laugh as he told me one day I would take down the best.
In the kitchen was a white A4 envelope. When I peeled the seal and slid the papers out it was my contract for next season. On top was a note from Waller. I think this contract will be more beneficial for you. I skimmed it with more care than I had the last one I’d signed. I'd never make that mistake again. The contract had no clause about personal relationships.
I grabbed my phone and dialled Gemma. "Has your contract changed about personal relationships?" I didn't even say hello.
"Hold on." I heard her ripping her own envelope. Clearly, she'd also been in a rush to read through her future. Not. There was a sigh. "Clause three, there shall be no fraternisation between colleagues."
"Oh."
"What does yours say?"
"Not that."
"Oh."
I stared at the pages longer. "I'll see you tomorrow, 'kay?"
"Sure thing." She hung up the phone while I still sat there clutching mine. Leaning over, I pulled the other envelope out, the one that Betsy had given me, the one I hadn't known was an option. I lined both sheets of paper alongside one another, and there I sat and stared until the early hours of the morning while I tried to work out just what it was I wanted.