FM Stories Chapter 3

The 10.35 train out of Scunthorpe was on time. Scunthorpe had been unbearably hot and the temperature inside the first class carriage where I was sitting wasn’t much better. With my laptop open on the table in front of me I prepared to kill the next thirty minutes by drafting some e-mails.

My intended plans came to an abrupt halt, when further up the carriage, shattering the peace was the unmistakable ring of a mobile phone. The older woman opposite me looked up from her copy of “Bild” and rolled her eyes at me. I gave her a small nod of collusive understanding. Five minutes later and the infuriating man was still giving everyone the benefit of his one-sided conversation. Unable to refrain from getting a look at the know-it-all bigmouth, I leaned to my left to gaze through the gap at the seats opposite. He was finishing up his phone conversation. “No problem, I’ll arrange the meeting as agreed, ciao.” He snapped his mobile shut, winked and moved out of my eye line.

I was intrigued, I strained a little further to my left, causing the man sitting next to me to back away with a disgruntled look, and caught a glimpse of the culprit’s companion. Except, frustratingly, I couldn’t quite see enough. All I was sure was that he was now examining the tonsils of a blonde women with his mouth. A cough exploded in my ear and I realised that I had exasperated the patience of the man next to me. I sheepishly slunk back into my seat. The woman opposite raised her eyebrows at me, I had crossed the line of acceptable behaviour and I reluctantly looked again at my draft emails.

The ostentatious bar of the ‘Hotel du Luc’ beside lake Zurich was anything but welcoming. I was in need of a drink. The austere bar tender poured me a ‘Leffe’, I could not decide to sip or gulp at it. Craning my neck to look past the end of the bar, I saw two attractive ladies, sitting at a table with a cocktail glass a piece. The blonde fingered her glass as she leant forward in deep conversation. She had nice ankles, I observed. I craned my neck further still and I nearly fell out of my chair.

I looked beyond to the large plate glass and an open window as a pair of swaggering lads in their leathers crossed the road to the car park where two powerful-looking motorbikes were waiting for them, their well polished chrome work glinting in the morning sun. I watched them strap on their helmets, then heard the throaty roar of the engines and the desire to sit astride a magnificent machine.

I gulped back my beer, then suddenly registering that I was actually hungry now – starving, in fact – I looked around at the other tables and occupants, wondering what the food would be like, I was just eyeing up a mouth watering dish of seafood risotto and a plate of mozzarella salad, when I noticed a tall, familiar man enter the room. Dressed in black jeans and a white shirt open at the neck, he crossed the marble tiled floor and came to stop just in font of me.

“Hi Alain.” I greeted him, and shook his hand. A flood of happy memories came back and I shook it for longer than I intended.

“ahsoon ar, great to see you man, it’s been too long.” He said with a mischievous smile. Only Alain, insisted in using my old nickname.

“Almost a year, doesn’t time fly”

“It does for old buzzards like us. I’ve been reading the tabloids here, you’ve been busy.”

“You know me. If a job’s got to be done, best to get it over and done with.” Like getting you to sign on the dotted line, I thought.

“Lunch, I’m starving. I bet it’s still a salad for you. Me, I’m tempted by the steak.”

We wandered over to a spare a table, ordered and caught up with each others personal lives. I waited for an opportunistic moment, to bring up my real motive for the meeting.

“You said on the phone yesterday that there was something you wanted to ask me?” Alain threw me a life line.

Seizing the moment, “I’ve accepted the Scunthorpe job, I start next week and I want you to join me.” I blurted it out, in a fast talking jumble, hoping he would understand.

He took a slurp from his glass of wine, grinned, “I was waiting for it, and I knew you had something up your sleeve. You devious so and so.”

“You can’t blame me, mate. I need someone who knows football inside and out and who better.” I said opening up my hands.

“I can’t think of a single good reason why I should come and join you, with the relegation fodder. And give up my idyllic life here in Zurich. But In a bizarre way that makes it all the more attractive. Don’t fret of course, I’ll come. If only to work along side you again.”

“Alain, I can’t thank you enough.” I outstretched my hand and relief overcame me.

“It will be like, you and me against the world.”

It was now time to come clean, “All three of us against the world!”

He put down his glass of wine and an anguished look came over his face, “No, no, no. Not that, not Gunstone.”

“He’s bloody good Alain and now that he’s sober and out of the clinic.”

“For how long…the joker’s a liability. On and off the wagon more times that George Best.” He slunk back in his chair, a look of despair on his face.

“I know, but he’s a mate. And when he’s sober he’s good, very good.”

“When he’s sober!” He exclaimed.

“Well, we’ll just have to keep him that way. Everyone deserves a second chance.”

“He’s had fourth and fifth chances.”

“Alain!” I said raising my eyebrows.

“All right, all right. I get the message, he’s a mate. But it will be your head that will roll!”

“Thank goodness for that,” I replied, letting out my breath and relaxing, “I shouldn’t have doubted you. You are always loyal and so pragmatic. This is a new venture for all of us, a new start, a new…”

“Please” Alain interrupted me, “you don’t have to explain. Believe me; I know exactly where you are coming from.”

I left the lunch reassured and with rising confidence. Everything I had planned was falling into place, now it depended on meticulous planning and a big slice of luck

******

I had spent the last two hours sitting next to two teenage boys, who talked non-stop at each other about all their friends’ limited sex lives and frequently pushed past me to go to the toilet. “They are so excited about college.” Their mother kept saying and showed no sign of telling them to shut up. “They’ve never flown before,” And with any luck never will again in my company, I had though.

But now, having retrieved my luggage, I was scanning the arrivals hall for a familiar face. Sophie was easy to spot in the crowd of chatting relatives and taxi drivers, not just because she was waving madly and wearing a brightly coloured top, but because she had such blonde hair.

I greeted her with a passionate kiss and hug, which lifted her off her feet. I could not deny how relieved I was to be back in her arms, even if I was now standing on the back of the speeding trolley like a latter day Ben-hur and I had to run to keep up with her.

“How was your flight?” Sophie asked when we were standing in the bright sunshine and were loading my luggage into the car.

“Fine,” I replied, “although I came close to shoving two teenage boys through the emergency exit at thirty-five thousand feet. Otherwise I don’t have a second’s delay or a case of drunken air rage to report.”

“How very disappointing, darling. Okay, then, there’s a bottle of diet coke in the glove compartment if you’re in need of a cold drink.”

I fished out the bottle, “Darling, you are a life saver.”