Page 26 of The Lady and the Footballer
She took a deep breath for courage before stepping beneath the hand-painted sign of a regal monarch and pushing through the heavy green door with its brass handle. She stopped for a moment in the entryway, pausing to allow her eyes to adjust to the dim interior.
Every head in the pub turned to stare at her, although mercifully, there were few present midday, midweek. Most men sitting at the bar looked like they had become permanent residents of their stools.
Once her eyes adjusted to the dim light, she took in the dark oak beams and worn leather booths, her gaze drawn to the roaring hearth, scenting the air with wood smoke mingled with ale. She could picture it during the evening, the tables filled with patrons and pleasantries, while for now, the polished mahogany bar, lying beneath brass lanterns, was the only surface in use.
A throat cleared from the bar, and Lily turned her attention to the barkeep, who stood with burly arms crossed in front of him. His eyes were both curious and suspicious above a pointed nose and large mustache.
“Are you lost, miss?”
“No,” she said, rushing forward, equally wishing she had asked Emmaline to accompany her while also eager to prove that she could do this independently. “I am looking for Mr. Samuel Pritchard. I believe he works here in the offices of the Manchester United Club.”
“Ah, yes, Mr. Pritchard,” the barkeep said, one side of his lips twitching into what hinted at a smile. “Through that back hallway, up the stairs to yer right.”
“Thank you,” Lily said before hurrying away from the curious stares.
When she reached the top of the stairs, it was like she had stepped into a different building. She was met with a quieter, more refined atmosphere, a narrow hallway lined with faded wallpaper stretching before her. As she slowly walked down it, the wooden floor creaked beneath her feet until she reached an open door at the end of the hall.
She craned her neck around the heavy oak door, finding an open room full of large desks cluttered with papers. Shelves around the room were filled with ledgers and the odd trophy, while windows overlooked the busy street below, the panes slightly warped with age.
And in the middle desk sat a tall, thin man with curly grey hair and a small mustache struggling to find purpose.
“Excuse me? Are you Mr. Pritchard?”
The man looked up with a gasp, pushing his spectacles up his nose as he tried to peer through them at Lily, but they kept sliding back down.
“Yes,” he said, standing in a hurry. “That’s me. What can I do for you?”
“I thought we should meet,” Lily said, stepping into the room before the desk. “I am Miss Lily Evans and have been keeping the books for the club over the past few weeks.”
His face immediately hardened, and Lily realized he was likely not as pleased about the help as she would have guessed.
“I know who you are, Miss Evans.”
He did not invite her to sit, so she took it upon herself to drag a small chair over and take a seat.
“I apologize for not coming to visit sooner, but I was unaware of your role in the club. I hope that my notes have been helpful. I have been submitting them through my father.”
She held her ledgers in her hand as she looked at him, wondering what he had thought of her weekly submissions.
“Yes, I have seen them,” he said, waving to one of the many haphazard piles on his desk. “I am uncertain what you expect me to do with them.”
“Well, I have noted all of the club’s expenses and revenue and have compared them to the records I was provided from the bank,” she said.
“I am aware.”
He was certainly not welcoming. Lily decided it might be best to get right to it, for he didn’t seem inclined to make pleasantries.
“Have you noticed the small discrepancies?” she said, leaning forward. “They are minor, but it seems that the club is missing money, that there have been extra amounts added where there shouldn’t be.”
“No,” he said, shaking his head as he leaned back in his chair, not meeting her eye. “I have not seen such a thing.”
“Then you must not have looked at my notes,” she persisted, and he leaned forward, holding a hand between them.
“I appreciate your concern, Miss Evans, but please know that I have everything well in hand. I worked many years at a bank, and this is inconsequential to the amount of money I took care of there. I will continue to receive your ledgers and add them to my accounts, but do not concern yourself with any explanations. Do you understand?”
Lily blinked. Here, she thought he would appreciate such information, but instead, he seemed almost… defensive.
Interesting.
