AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Like Asa’s work this morning, Rae’s name might as well be hammered across my chest.
Maybe it’s a good thing he isn’t staying.
I won’t be able to claw out those nails if they lodge any deeper.
“Listen,” Rae says, this bright smile another hammer blow to my heart. “I just had some amazing news—” He can’t have noticed that Mitch is still present until that moment. Rae suddenly halts, asking me a silent question, which I can read with zero problem.
You okay?
That’s a sudden reminder of someone else I haven’t stopped thinking about all morning, who also spoke to me with his eyes. And who, if I’m honest, has been on my mind for months now, even though he’s long departed.
Mitch picks up on that, and if he’d ushered me over to a picnic table where Justin now sits with that sketchpad any sooner, I wouldn’t have joined him.Couldn’t have.Today, I watch him help the brain-injured man he’s supported for years by opening what turns out to be a scrapbook full of memories I’m not prepared for.
“That’s…” I sit more heavily than I mean to, and of course my hands shake. Anyone’s would in the same situation. “That’s Dad.”
A different hand lands on my shoulder. Rae has sent his students for lunch. He’s alone, but for once I don’t feel like I am while faced with what made me hide in woodland.
“That’s…” He studies the photo. “That’s your back garden, yeah?” Rae asks. “Those are the goal posts you showed me?” Giant sunflowers stand in a row behind them, and I nod like they used to.
“They are,” Mitch agrees. He sits beside Justin. “You’ve followed the local team for years, haven’t you, mate?” he gently prompts him. “And what do the team all call you?”
“Number one fan,” Justin mutters. He shifts in his seat as if agitated and snaps that scrapbook closed. This is fierce, if faint, from him. “Still my team.”
“That’s right, they’re still your team,” Mitch promises, his tone reassuring. His glance my way seems apologetic. “So it was a bit of a surprise when the son of one of your favourite coaches didn’t want to see your scrapbook. Because that’s who Mr. Novac was to you, yeah? Your favourite coach after your accident.”
Mitch touches his own forehead, but my gaze fixes on the deep depression in Justin’s, a clue that he’s played through plenty of pain of his own. It means I can say this without choking.
“He was my best coach too.”
Here I go again, reading eyes instead of needing to hear Mitch say thank you. His crinkle at their corners to send that message across the table to me while he aims this next comment at Rae, who takes a seat on the bench beside me. “Justin didn’t grow up locally. Before his accident, he was a prospect in the city. In Plymouth. Your dad remembered seeing him play for theunder-elevens when they were up against Porthperrin in school tournaments.”
Trust Dad to never forget a player with potential. Now Mitch swallows, his gaze fixed on Justin. “That was your superstar heyday, right, mate?” His fingertips graze his brow again. “And when Justin came to me and wanted to watch some live footy, your dad welcomed him back, didn’t he? Mr. Novac let you watch practices with those kids you used to play against, didn’t he, J-man? Made sure no one took your seat. Kept you right in the middle of all that football gossip, and he let me take photos to help you remember.”
He pauses. This time, his gaze lands on me and stays there. “And he invited Justin to your home so he could practise kicking a ball into the back of a real net with no one watching. Made sure everyone was out. Didn’t matter if you missed a shot, did it, J-man, or if you fell over.”
“No.”
Justin’s death grip on his book loosens. He hasn’t spoken with emotion around me until today. He’s been fierce once already. That same fierceness is loud and clear all over again.
“Miss him.”
Me too, mate.
Me too.
Mitch pushes the scrapbook closer to me, and he’s got a big voice, right? Can boom loudly enough that the whole school could hear him, if he wanted.
This is so, so gentle.
“Justin still goes to games now. Still sits with the local team. They all followed your progress while you were away. You know what clubs are like.”
I do. I almost suggesthotbeds of gossiponly he has a different viewpoint.
“Protective of their home-grown talent. Invested in their futures, especially when there’s a strong family connection. And if that family connection ends all too abruptly?” He touches the edge of that goal-post photo. “The club gets even more protective. Add in what happened right before you got your big shot…” He glances Rae’s way before locking with me again, and who the fuck knows what he sees, or if he was about to spill a loser label that I so want to leave behind me.
It’s an unwelcome flashback to Justin mentioning the shame I hoped I hadn’t brought back to Cornwall with me.
Luke Lawson suggested that old shame wasn’t mine to carry. Now Mitch lets me off the hook of having to feel more of it in front of Rae by not being explicit. Instead, he makes a promise.
