Page 93 of Hotshot

On the back of her red jersey was her name in bright white. Stoneson. She placed the ball on the spot. Walked backwards, then stopped, hands on hips. The referee blew her whistle. Stoneson looked left, then ahead, then ran up.

Miss it. For the love of god, miss the fucking penalty.

The thud as her boot hit the ball was loud. The shot was good, headed for the top left of the goal. It was a solid penalty. Sloane narrowed her gaze as Becca flung herself towards the ball, and stretched her arms as far as she could.

Was she going to save it? Sloane sucked in a breath.

Becca got fingertips to the ball, tipped it onto left post and away from goal. She landed in a heap on the floor, and the penalty-taker dropped to her knees.

The Salchester team let out a collective gasp, untangled themselves and started to run towards their hero, arms raised. The Salchester Rovers half of the stadium erupted. The home fans behind the goal sank.

Becca had saved it! They were through! They were going to Wembley! Sloane wanted to laugh, cry, and scream all at the same time. She let out a primal yelp, sent up a thank you to a god she didn’t believe in, then stirred her feet to join the rest in smothering Becca. When the commotion died down, Sloane looked to the sidelines.

Ella beamed her way.

She had to find a way to make this okay.

For herself, for the team, and for Ella.

CHAPTER34

It was the second week of May, the end of another work day, and Ella had the EasyJet site open on her screen. The season finished soon, and then she got a few weeks off. She needed to get away. A holiday somewhere in the sun sounded good. Palm trees, blue skies, gorgeous sunsets. But that only made her think of Sloane. Every day without her was an assault course of emotions.

Ella focused on the screen. On the photos of people laying on sunbeds, with a cocktail and a book. That sounded perfect. Maybe Marina would like to go? Only, when she pictured it, it wasn’t Marina who came to mind. It was Sloane. Always Sloane. She tried to block the images of Sloane in a swimsuit, looking outrageously sexy, but they lived rent-free in her head.

After the semi-final win, Ella joined in the celebrations as best she could on the pitch and in the changing room, before sneaking away, hoping she wouldn’t be missed. The elation of the night and the emotions tied up with Sloane were overwhelming. They were going to Wembley. Ella could hardly believe it.

After Sloane missed that first penalty, she’d thought they were done. But this team constantly surprised her. When the staff had joined the team on the pitch, they’d hugged each player in turn, with particular attention paid to Becca and all five penalty takers. Whether you scored or not, it took huge courage to take one in the first place. Ella remembered it from her playing days.

When it came for her turn to hug Sloane, they’d both hesitated. She didn’t want to avoid her and make it seem like something was wrong. There again, if she hugged her, she might not let go. In the end, they’d settled on an awkward hug and a couple of backslaps, then stepped away from each other at speed. When Ella had clocked Lucy staring, she’d felt as if they’d been caught red-handed. The fact that every sinew of her body leaned towards Sloane like a plant seeking sunlight? She’d ignored that. Right now, Ella didn’t trust her thoughts or feelings.

All she knew was, Salchester’s season was reaching its ultimate climax. In the game yesterday, Sloane had scored a brace. However, with one league game to go, they couldn’t catch United for the title. They’d come achingly close. However, the FA Cup was still very much in their grasp. The game was at the forefront of everyone’s mind.

The Wembley final was coming up this Saturday, May 12th.

Sloane had tried to talk to Ella. To corner her. To message. But Ella had held firm. Restarting anything was pointless because Sloane was leaving.

Ella was just getting her bag ready to leave, when Lucy stopped by her office.

“Have you got a minute?” She tilted her head towards her office.

Ella shut down her screen and walked next door, her stomach rolling as she did. Last time she and Lucy had spoken in a formal fashion, it hadn’t been pleasant. Was that going to happen again? She sat in the chair opposite and waited for her dressing down.

“There’s no need to look so scared. Last time out, Sloane hadn’t just scored a brace.” Lucy gave a tentative smile. “Have you two made up?”

Ella drew her lips into a pencil-thin line. “No, but we’ve called a truce of sorts.”

“If it helps, I want to keep her here next year. It depends if she wants to stay, and if her agent likes the deal. She drives a hard bargain, but Sloane’s worth it. Despite her injury and her brief dry spell, she’s still second top scorer in the league. She might even win the Golden Boot. You can’t argue with those figures.”

Would Sloane stay? She hadn’t told Ella that. Surely if she was thinking about it, she would have? Then again, Ella hadn’t really given her the chance. A flicker of hope burned in her chest. Quickly followed by defeat. Maybe she’d use the offer to get another one in the US or elsewhere in Europe? Somewhere warmer than Salchester?

Lucy cleared her throat and looked Ella dead in the eye. “But it’s not Sloane I want to talk about. It’s you. Sloane isn’t the only one I want to stay. I’ve talked to Paulo, as I said I would, and we’ve hashed out a deal where, if you agree, the club can offer you a full-time contract as Salchester’s part-time performance coach, and part-time youth football coach, along with a good pay rise.” Lucy sat forward. “You’d be working mainly with the women, but there’s a possibility to work with the men, too, when needed.” She shrugged. “It was my concession to getting it pushed through.” She paused. “What do you think?”

For once in her life, Ella was gobsmacked. She’d only been at the club for a season, and she already loved it more than she ever thought possible. But getting to work on the actual football side, too? It was beyond her wildest dreams.

“You’re okay with me keeping a couple of my clients on the side? I feel it’s not fair to leave them in the lurch. But it won’t affect my dedication.”

Lucy nodded. “Of course. We understand that. So long as you can give us full-time hours and be at the games, we want you. What do you say? Does it sound appealing?”

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