Page 10 of The Lady and the Footballer
“Oh?” Her father lifted a brow.
“He told me about how his sister helps their father and the Manchester Athletics Club Committee with the team's finances. I thought perhaps, with my education, I could benefit our club as she does.”
“Oh, Lily, that is laughable!” her mother said, waving a hand in the air while her father only eyed her with some interest.
“That is not a typical role for a young lady.”
“A young lady of title, you mean,” she corrected. “I know of many women who help with bookkeeping.”
“Yes, but you have other pursuits,” her mother interjected. “You are to be finding a husband. That is most important.”
“Perhaps, but this would keep me occupied in the meantime.”
“I do not think—” her mother protested, but her father held up a hand.
“We will discuss it.”
“You will?” Hope bloomed in Lily’s chest. She wasn’t sure why this meant anything to her. She wasn’t passionate about numbers or bookkeeping, although she was competent in such skills.
It was more so that she liked the idea of having a purpose in her life, something besides finding a husband, as her mother was adamant about. She had seen her mother’s life given over to nothing but the latest gossip and her social standing. It wasn’t a life that Lily was particularly interested in, and she couldn’t spend all of her time reading – as much as she would like to.
“I said we woulddiscussit,” her father cautioned, obviously reading her expression. “I am not promising anything.”
“Thank you for considering it,” she said with a smile as the carriage stopped in front of the house, which was not particularly far as they lived in the same small community, Ellesmere Park, just outside of the city. In one night, Lily had avoided a promise of marriage to Lord Nathaniel and had potentially found herself a role that would mean something.
She considered that a successful night, indeed.
“You are now a foreman at the mill?”
“And a player on the football team?”
Colin fielded the questions from his mother and sisters that evening as they all enjoyed one of the finer meals they’d had in some time. He had decided to celebrate his newfound success with a plump chicken from the butcher before he had continued home.
His mother quickly got to work cooking it while his two sisters were eager to ask questions.
“How was your practice with the team?” Sally asked. She was twelve, and every time Colin saw young women her age working in the mill, he vowed that she would never be one of them, that she could retain her childhood for as long as possible.
His mother had always emphasized education. As much as she had hoped that Colin would find employment higher than that of a factory worker, when she had lost her job as a cook and had been unable to find another, he had left his education to become a solicitor and had taken work to support his family instead. He had never admitted to anyone just how devastating it had been for him, but his family was his priority.
“It was… interesting,” he said, telling them first of finding his way on the field, feeling like it took him some time to get into a rhythm again, but playing with men he knew like Tommy and Joey helped it all return.
When he told them about missing the goal and hitting the primary sponsor’s daughter, their jaws dropped.
“Please tell me you are joking,” his sister Diane said, closing her eyes momentarily.
At eighteen, she was hoping to begin work as a teacher. She had spent the past five years as a pupil-teacher, apprenticing as she furthered her own studies, and hoped to pass the teacher certification exam at the end of the year. Not only did she enjoy children, but she had the mind and patience for it. Colin had been working hard to help her find her success.
“I am not,” he said grimly. “Fortunately, she didn’t seem to suffer any ill effects, although Harcourt wasn’t exactly pleased with me. I must have done enough to make up for it, as he still wants to keep me on. And get this – he’ll pay me a pound a week as foreman and a pound for each match.”
“How many matches do you reckon you’ll play?” his mother asked.
“Hard to say, exactly,” he replied with a shrug. “Depends on how many the club committee can put together. But they want us to play in the FA Cup so as long as we win a few rounds, that will add up.”
“I’m proud of you, Colin,” his mother said, patting his hand. She had been a beauty in her day, but years of hard work had taken its toll on her. Colin considered she was probably near to the same age as Lady Harcourt, but one would think that there were twenty years between them.
“Thank you, Mother.”
“Between your new roles, Diane finishing her pupil-teacher training, and Sally doing so well in school, I must have done something right.”
