Page 48 of Playing the Field
I let the assembled crowd know that the pub quiz will be kicking off next. ‘Inside the pub in ten minutes, teams of six, leave your phones in your pockets please.’
Then I move on to check on the boys queueing up to take part in the keepy-uppy contest on the other side of the car park. Jamie is recording names and scores, and the winner will be announced at the end of the day and gifted a ball signed by the whole team.
‘Twenty-three is the number to beat so far,’ he informs me. ‘If you want to have a go.’
I politely decline on the grounds that I need to keep schmoozing. There’s no need to show myself up in front of anyone today.
Back in the bar, I have just enough time to ask Phoebs how the raffle ticket sales are going before she’s swamped by people wanting to get a drink before the quiz starts.
‘Make it two for a quid for anyone buying four drinks or more,’ I tell her, before turning to the next customer. I can help out here for ten minutes until the rush dies down.
I don’t stay for the quiz though– I helped compile it so I know all the answers. Plus with Dad, Cassie and at least half the visitors now preoccupied inside, it’s a good opportunity to grab a few minutes with Ben.
Bin bag in hand, he’s gathering up discarded paper cups and plates and I want to hug him for taking on the one job that nobody else on the team volunteered to do. But for now just my hand rested on his arm will have to do. ‘Thanks for doing this. I really appreciate it.’
‘How do you think it’s all going?’ he asks, and we both turn our gaze towards the giant see-through bin where Adio and co are depositing their coins any time their collecting buckets get heavy. It’s not even a quarter full, but it’s a big old bin, so there’s no telling exactly how much is in it.
We debated whether to have it on display, or if that would be too tempting for thieves. In the end, we decided it was more likely to inspire people than attract any wrong’uns. Plus it’s not like anyone could grab it and jog up the street with it– it’s way too heavy.
‘There’s still a steady stream of people arriving and there’s a collection bucket beside Elliot’s goal that hasn’t been added to the pot yet, so there’s still time to get closer to our target.’ Which is a black line Cassie has drawn halfway up the bin with the word ‘goal’ written above it. ‘I know we probably won’t make a fortune, but if people go online afterwards and buy a season ticket, or even a match ticket, we’ll still be in a better place financially than we’ve ever been.’
‘You’re doing a grand job,’ Ben assures me with a grin. ‘I want to kiss you.’
I smile up at him. ‘I want to kiss you too.’
We both look around us. There are too many people nearby.
‘Meet me behind the cake tent in two minutes?’ he suggests.
I laugh. ‘Like horny teenagers?’
His grin widens. ‘I hope so.’ And it’s all I can do not to break into a run.
With his arms wrapped around me and his lips meeting mine, I think I relax for the first time all day. I hadn’t registered how stressed I’ve been trying to make sure everything is going to plan. I melt into his embrace, savouring the brief reprieve.
We’re mid-clinch when Olly announces over the Tannoy that the pub quiz prize has been taken by the Johnsons– one of the families from Cassie’s Kickers club. Each member of the team will be presented with a Crawford season ticket, giving us another handful of fans to add to our slowly growing following. I’m gradually allowing myself to be optimistic that we will end up with quite a few more, given how many people have come here to compete for the chance to win.
I freeze when I hear my sister’s voice in the cake tent with Marge. ‘Have you seen Lily? I reckon we’re probably at peak attendance round about now so it’s a good time to get the auction underway.’
‘I did see her head round back with the rubbish with Ben,’ Marge replies, shattering my illusion that we’d sneaked away unnoticed. Then something else I hadn’t noticed comes to light– there’s a flap in the back of the cake tent that allows both Cassie and Marge to poke their heads through, leaving Ben and I frozen in each other’s arms, well and truly busted.
25
For a second my insides turn to ice. This was not supposed to happen. Not at all, but definitely not like this. I scan their faces to see how they’ll react and Marge seems uncharacteristically lost for words, a silent ‘oh’ forming on her lips. Cassie, on the other hand, looks like she has plenty to say.
‘We can talk about this later,’ I quickly tell her, releasing Ben and ushering him away. ‘The event is the most important thing right now so let’s just try to stay focused on it.’
‘I’ll get back to work,’ Ben says, winking at me before scooping up his bin bag and heading back out into the melee.
I step through the tent flap to join Cassie and Marge, who finally finds her tongue and says, ‘Are you sure this is a good idea?’
‘No,’ I admit. ‘But he’s funny and thoughtful and all the things the press don’t make him out to be, and I want to enjoy it for as long as I can.’
‘I genuinely had no idea,’ she says, shaking her head.
‘I had my suspicions,’ Cassie admits, but from the frown on her face I’d say she’s far from impressed by it. ‘Even if you hadn’t started disappearing off to see a mystery man just after Ben arrived on the scene, the matching his-and-hers cakes were a bit of a giveaway.’
This hadn’t actually occurred to me. So does that mean we’ve accidentally outed ourselves to everyone? Even Dad? But surely he would have mentioned it, and I didn’t get the impression from Craig earlier that anyone else on the team had guessed.
