Page 19 of Don't Fall in Love (and how to break the rules)

“Do I think I deserve happiness?” she wrote. Then below that she added “do I think I am some kind of saint?” She laughed. Of course she didn’t. She got out a red pen and wrote “NO” in capital letters under the second question.

She looked again at the first question, seeking the right coloured pen with which to write “yes,” but she couldn’t find it. It was curious, because she had approximately fifteen pens in various shades of rainbow colours. She left the question unanswered. Something about it made her uncomfortable.

She closed the book and put the pen on top of it. Her empty peppermint tea mug went beside it. She stood and walked to the hallway to put on her coat. It was still raining, but she wanted to get out of her own four walls and away from her thoughts. Rationally, she knew she couldn’t escape her thoughts, but somewhere inside, she wondered if the rain might wash her confusion away.

She donned a pair of hot pink wellies and put her hood up before facing the deluge. She headed to Kings Heath Park, only a few minutes’ walk away. The playground, usually full of children, was empty and dripping. The grass seemed greener in the rain. Chrissie made for the small woodland area beyond the climbing frame and headed into the trees. The oaks provided limited protection, but there was a sense of escaping from the world amid their branches and leaves. She came upon a large den made of sticks and branches and smiled. She’d loved making dens as a child, imagining fairies and pixies coming to join her. She’d loved reading theMagical Faraway Treestories by Enid Blyton, escaping into a world of fantasy. Her dad had taught her how to use tree trunks for added structural integrity.

She carried on walking, already feeling better for going out. There was something soothing about the sound of the rain on the trees, the squelch of mud beneath her boots and the feel of dampness on her cheeks. She felt more her usual self in this environment, and her reeling thoughts began to quieten.

From the woods she headed down to the bottom of the park, below the old bowling green where on sunny Saturdays people would gather to do tai chi together. There were a few determined dog walkers out, nodding their hellos to Chrissie. There was a sense of camaraderie between those braving the rain this morning.

As she came up the hill and past the Victorian tearooms, she made her way to the more open areas where picnics would takeplace in sunny weather. There was a group of about ten women playing football, in spite of the rain. They seemed to be having a whale of a time, leaping about, whooping and cheering and embracing the mud and the wet. A goal was scored and everyone cheered, even the opposing side. Chrissie paused to watch for a while. They were all soaked to the skin, but loving it anyway. It made her feel good to see people rejoicing in the downpour.

There was a tall, slim woman, her long ponytail stuck to her back, gloved hands always poised and ready for the ball. She had an impressive reach and kept a surprising number of balls out of the net. But just as it seemed no one would be able to score against her, a small, solid player ran right at her, stuck out her tongue through the hair plastered all over her face, and sent the ball through her legs. The cheers started before the ball even hit the back of the goal, and the woman was besieged by her teammates.

Chrissie laughed. She’d never liked football, but watching this game made her want to join in. “Come on!” came a voice from the pitch, a voice that sounded familiar. The goal-scorer was gesturing to Chrissie. “You know you want to join in,” she added, with a grin that was entirely familiar now she’d swept her wet hair away and Chrissie could see her dimpled face properly.

“Nisha!” she exclaimed. “You mad thing! There’s no way I’m making a fool of myself with you professionals.” Nisha gently jogged over to where Chrissie was standing. Her hair was dripping, there was mud up to her knees, but her brown eyes shone from her face.

“Tell me you don’t fancy having a go.” Nisha gave her a wink. “I never managed to persuade you back in the day, but perhaps it’s time for something new.”

Chrissie pursed her lips. Nisha had played football several times a week when they were at school, forever trying to get Chrissie to join her. Perhaps it was time to take up the offer. “ButI don’t have the right clothes on.” She gestured to her wellies, glowing pink.

“They look pretty ideal to me,” said Nisha, motioning to the sodden trainers she was wearing. “Come on,” she said, in a voice that was almost irresistible.

“I’ll play for ten minutes, that’s your lot,” said Chrissie. “And for heaven’s sake, don’t pass me the ball – you’ll be disappointed.”

Nisha chuckled and called out to her teammates, “I’ve recruited another to our team.” She headed back towards the makeshift pitch, Chrissie trailing behind her. “Maz, Sophie, this is Chrissie.” A couple of wet muddy shapes in shorts waved at her, smiles showing through the rain.

“Remember,” said Chrissie, “no passing to me!”

“Right you are,” said Nisha, immediately kicking the ball towards her friend.

Chrissie squealed, the ball making a muddy imprint on her raincoat. It fell to the ground and she swung her leg. Her foot made contact and the ball flew into the sky before landing less than a metre from her.

“See,” said Nisha, “you’re a natural.”

Chrissie grimaced, but inside she was laughing. This was fun. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d done something daft, something that didn’t directly ‘do good’ for anyone. She was doing something just because she fancied it. And it was fun.

This was new.

“Your ball,” called one of the other players towards Chrissie, and she ran towards it before kicking it off the pitch and into a tree.

She laughed. “Sorry!” The good-natured players waved away her apologies and one patted her on the back.

While she didn’t feel she’d really got the hang of it, there was a freedom to running up and down the pitch in the rain, shoutingwhen the ball came near her, sharing in cheers when a goal was scored – or groaning when it just missed.

“Ok, everyone,” said Sophie, the tall goalie, “that’s us for the day. See you next week!”

Goodbyes were said and the women vanished quickly to their homes, their children, their partners, their hot showers.

Chrissie and Nisha were the last of the footballers left in the park, strangely unwilling to leave.

“Do you remember that night when it rained?” asked Nisha. She turned towards the park’s exit and Chrissie followed.

Chrissie’s voice caught in her throat. “Of course I do,” she said. They were both dripping, but the rain was beginning to ease, and they carried along down the road together. “We were stuck in the back garden, even though you needed the loo.”

“Oh God, yes,” said Nisha. She paused, not looking across to Chrissie, who felt her pulse quicken. “It felt like we were on an island, thousands of miles away from anyone else.”

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