Page 27 of The Cut
‘What? Why?’
‘Because we don’t go around tripping our teammates into the mud. We’re not animals.’
‘Well … she acts like a pig in shit.’ Annie immediately knows she’s overstepped the mark by the sudden clatter of Lynette’s chair and the arm that lashes out.
‘ENOUGH, YOU TWO!’ Branchflower is up on his feet and between them like a shot, his cheap aftershave almost doing the job of knocking them out. ‘SIT DOWN … both of you. Davis, you will remain head of the team but I’m selecting Maddock as your striker once she’s back from suspension.’
‘No, sir. No way.’ Davis kicks out sideways towards Maddock, that instinct to smash bone, just itching to make contact.
‘WAY! You two will work together. Do you hear me?’ In the silence, you can almost hear the grind of molars as both girls bite down on their rage.107
‘Do … you … hear … me?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Yes … SSSIR,’ Lynette hisses in the poor man’s face.
‘Good, now shake hands and get out of my sight.’
Annie stands and turns to face Davis, a mocking smile spreading across her face. As their hands join, Davis’s middle finger bends inwards and a sharp pain stabs Annie in the palm; the stiletto of a killer fingernail digging deep.
To make an enemy of someone like Lynette Davis is a grave error. Annie has crossed a line. There would be no warning, there never was with people like her. They wait, biding their time.
The cruel sting will strike when she least expects it.108
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19
NOVEMBER 2023
The goal that exploded from Lily Knot’s boot was sublime. No one was surprised; her speed and agility, along with a sense of something to prove, were like fuel in her engine. A lot of unapologetic rage was expended on that football field, and Lily was the leader.
Old Mr Branchflower blew the whistle, and the ball was back in play.
‘DRIVE IT HOME, LILS!’ Nathan Knot was standing on the sidelines, shouting out what he thought was football jargon. He sipped on hot soup, holding the cup with one hand and filming her on his iPhone with the other. He and his sister lived for embarrassing each other with TikToks. A montage of hilarious football fails would go down well.
Another camera panned across the backs of the bodies standing on the sidelines.
Karine Mickelsen hadn’t wasted a second setting up. Initially, she had held back, standing some way off under the cover of a line of cypresses, but slowly she began to creep forward until she was closer to the action.
She wore a baseball cap and headphones and had a handheld Sony Venice Rialto’d into a split body, the lens on her shoulder, battery in her backpack.
A guy in a fedora, with a mullet and sunglasses, was sitting in a lawn chair a little further off, with a portable sound-mixing desk on his knees. A younger, scrawny kid wearing a puffer jacket and combats, who didn’t look much older than Nate, loaded the110shot with the clapper board and then concentrated on working the focus.
Lily Knot glanced up from the field to the chemistry lab window, where she could see a line of bare buttocks mooning her. If that’s what the boys thought of girls’ football, she would show them.
A flurry of trouser hitching was met with the red-faced Mr Tacey, struggling to drop the blind. Lily shook her head and looked over to Nate, who shrugged, trying not to snigger at the boys of Year 11.
Nate clocked Karine out of the corner of his eye and sidled up to her. ‘That’s a lot of kit.’ Karine removed her cans and slipped them down to her neck.
‘Lily’s a good player.’ Karine smiled at him. ‘She looks great on camera too, athletic.’
Nate smiled. ‘Have we started making the film already?’ He blew on the surface of his soup to cool it.
‘Not quite … I’m shooting plates and establishers to get a feel for the geography.’ Karine’s eyes scanned the field.
‘Will you tell me what the story is about?’
