Page 11 of The Lady and the Footballer
“Of course you did, Mother,” Colin said warmly. She had done everything she could – of that he knew. His and Diane’s father had passed when he was ten, and then she’d had Sally with another man, one whose identity she had never shared. It had left Colin to try to provide for the family while making his own way in the world. Eventually, he’d had to make a choice.
“When is your first game?” Sally asked eagerly.
“In a couple of weeks,” he said. “We’ll play an exhibition match or two before we begin the FA Cup series. It starts off with the first round. We win, we go to the next round. Lose, we are done. The first round will take place in October and November. From my understanding, the final will be in March.”
He didn’t tell them about what would happen if he won the FA Cup. It seemed rather far-fetched. Last season, seventeen clubs had vied for the title. The odds weren’t great.
But he was determined.
“How will you have time for football when you work such long hours?” Diane asked, always practical.
“Lord Harcourt said I could have the time off.”
“Paid?”
“Didn’t say otherwise.”
“Well, that’s about as good a situation as any,” his mother said, passing the rest of the chicken around, not leaving any for a second helping for herself. “The only thing better would be if you could play football for pay and not have to do anything else.”
“Wouldn’t that be nice,” he said with a laugh. “A dream.”
“Perhaps someday,” she said.
“Someday,” he agreed. It was always the mantra, but then, if they didn’t have “someday” to hold onto, what else was there?
Lily walked down the stairs, preparing to join her parents in the drawing room before dinner, but stopped when she heard her name on her mother’s lips. It wasn’t often that her parents conversed alone, both so wrapped up in their own ventures, so she knew that she must be the topic of discussion, as their one commonality.
“I cannot believe you are considering this,” her mother said incredulously. “You not only told her she didn’t need to marry the man of our choosing?—”
“Your choosing.”
“—but you might actually allow her to sully herself with bookkeeping? I can hardly believe she even brought it up. Maybe her head was scrambled after the accident yesterday.”
“That didn’t just come from yesterday, and you know it, Annabelle. The girl seems a bit lost. She walks around all day with her head in her fictional books. At least if she is doing something for the club, she will be interacting with other people.”
“She can do that just fine at social gatherings.”
“But does she?”
His question was met with silence, and Lily’s stomach churned. It was not that she didn’t like being in situations with other people. She just didn’t see the point in having mindless conversations. She would rather find people she truly bonded with. Unfortunately, most people in her social circles were not so inclined. It was what she enjoyed so much about Emmaline.
“What if she never marries?” Her mother’s voice was so quiet that Lily had to strain to hear it, pressing her ear against the door.
“Then she doesn’t marry.” Her father sighed. “I will leave her a sizeable inheritance, either way.”
“But what would she do with her life?”
“I suppose that would be up to her to decide.”
“You know what, Percy? Maybe you’re right.”
“About what?”
“About her taking on this role.”
There was a rustle of skirts that must have been her mother walking about the room.
“Perhaps if she begins to work, she will realize that this is what she would be relegated to if she does not marry,” her mother continued. Her father tried to interject that was not exactly what he had meant, but her mother could no longer be stopped. “She will likely find bookkeeping so boring, so tasking, that she will realize she would be better off to marry and be the lady of the house. Oh, Percy, this is it.”
