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Roy’s not really sure what he was expecting as he and Keeley followed Jamie through the streets of Manchester taking hundreds of shortcuts that only a person who spent a significant portion of their life here could know. He certainly didn’t anticipate Jamie ringing a doorbell and be greeted by a bright and friendly man who reminded him a lot of Lasso, but that isn’t what throws him off. What really throws him off is when Jamie’s mum comes running down the stairs and screams jubilantly as she wraps him up in a tight hug. That by itself isn’t too surprising, Jamie was pretty touchy-feely once he got comfortable around people, but the thing is Roy’s met Georgie before, fifteen fucking years ago and if that woman was Jamie’s mother that means the little kid he also met that day was Jamie fucking Tartt.
It had been a bit of a shit game. An away game, Chealsea vs Man City, Chelsea at the top of their game expected to win, the stadium was completely packed and the pressure was on. Roy fumbled a pass which lead to Man City gaining possession and scoring a goal 6 minutes in and another goal for City came in the 53rd minute solidifying the 2-0 loss for Chealsea.
Logically Roy knew he couldn’t play every game perfectly, get every kick where it needed to be but that didn’t change how angry he was with himself as he walked of the pitch. He didn’t communicate in anything more than growls, though luckily it seemed none of his teammates were in a particularly talkative mood either. The team wasn’t heading back until the next morning which meant Roy intended to spend the night drinking and wallowing in self-pity in a city where he was marginally less likely to get recognised than back home.
Once he’d showered and change out of his kit he put on his best ‘fuck off don’t talk to me’ face and left the stadium through a back entrance he knew was less likely to be crowded by fans. He barely paid attention to his surroundings, just marching forward until he caught a glimpse of something in the corner of his eye. He couldn’t say what compelled him to stop, a sort of strange feeling in his stomach, but when he turned to face whatever his mind had picked up on he was greeted with the sight of a child. He had no idea how old this child was, Roy didn’t know shit about children, but he definitely didn’t look old enough to be standing on the side of the road all by himself. A quick look around confirmed there was no adult in sight and Roy realised much to his own annoyance that he was going to have to do something about this.
‘Oi Kid, what the fuck are you doing here?’ Perhaps that wasn’t the best start to this conversation, but it got the kid’s attention. A series of emotions ran over the kid’s face. He perked up initially at the sound of a voice then seemed to look disappointed. When he looked up at Roy his mouth formed a small ‘o’ and his face quickly shifted to awe as he stared up at him. After a few seconds he seemed to compose himself slightly and his face became more poorly disguised awe than open admiration.
‘Waiting for me da,’ he said with an obvious Mancunian accent.
‘Right and where the fuck is he?’ The kid shrugged.
‘Dunno, said he was getting a drink, told me to wait here.’ Roy found himself getting immensely pissed off at the kid’s father. Who the fuck just leaves their kid on the side of the road to go off and buy a drink, forcing Roy to now deal with a small child that he has no clue what to do with.
‘Ok, how long ago was that?’ The kid shrugged again.
‘Dunno, it was just after the match finished.’
‘Jesus fuck that was over an hour ago!’ Roy hadn’t really meant to shout but it seemed his voice came out as a shout anyway and the kid flinched back from him slightly. ‘Fuck I’m sorry.’ He briefly wondered if he should be trying not to swear in front of the kid but he knew it would be a lost cause even if he tried.
‘’s alright,’ the kid replied, though it looked like his lip was starting to tremble slightly. Roy squatted down so he was eye level with the kid and made an effort to soften his voice.
‘Do you know your dad’s number?’ The kid shook his head looking down at his feet.
‘Sorry.’ His voice came out barley more than a whisper.
‘What about your mum’s?’
‘She’s at work.’ That wasn’t a no at least.
‘How about we try calling her and she might be able to get a hold of your dad, yeah?’ The kid straightened up his shoulders and looked up at Roy with a hardened face, lip no longer trembling.
‘My dad will be back soon. You don’t have to worry about me,’ he said with a conviction that left little doubt that he truly believed his father had just quickly popped away briefly to get a drink and not fucked off and forgotten about his kid. That fucking broke Roy’s heart and now he couldn’t figure out how to tell the kid he wasn’t convinced that was true without also breaking the kid’s heart.
‘Something could have happened, better get a hold of your Mum just to make sure everything’s alright.’ He realised straight away that was the wrong thing to say as the kid’s eyes go wide with fear.
‘You think something happened to my dad?’
‘No! I’m sure he’s fine, just better to be safe than sorry yeah?’ It wasn’t even a lie, he imaged this kid’s father was having a great time pissed off his arse without a care in the world for the son he abandoned.
‘Alright.’ Roy felt something close to a smile edge onto his face. The kid dutifully recited his mum’s number once Roy pulled his phone out of his pocket. Once the numbers were in and double checked by the kid, Roy pressed the call button. It was barely two rings before someone picked up.
‘Hello, Georgie speaking.’ The voice sounded younger than Roy expected. Fuck he hadn’t planned what he was going to say.
‘Uh hi, I’m Roy Kent.’
‘The footballer?’ She responded incredulously. Roy really should have just got straight to the point.
‘Yeah, um. I’m with your son.’
‘Jamie? Is he ok?’ she asked frantically. He once again realised how unprepared for this conversation he was when he realised he’d never even got the kids name. He held the phone away from his ear.
‘Your name Jamie?’ The kid, Jamie, nodded. He moved the phone back next to his ear. ‘He’s fine. Said his dad went to go get a drink over an hour ago and there doesn’t seem to be any sign of him.’
‘That fucking piece of shit!’ He could hear rapid movements on the other side of the phone. ‘I’m coming to get him. Fuck it’s going to be at least forty-five minutes. Is there anyone who can keep an eye on him until then?’
‘I’ll do it,’ Roy answered before even thinking.
‘Are you sure? I’m so sorry.’
‘Yeah it’s fine.’ He looked at Jamie, who had been staring at him curiously for the whole call. ‘Do you want to talk to Jamie?’
‘Fuck, yes please.’ Roy held the phone out to Jamie.
‘Your mum wants to talk to you.’ Jamie took the phone gingerly and put it up to his ear. Roy could hear the woman’s muffled voice but couldn’t make out what she was saying. Jamie didn’t say much in return, just a few uh-huhs and nods, then something caused him to look up at Roy wide eyed and nod fervently. A couple more nods and he handed the phone back to Roy.
‘Umm… I guess just give me a call when you get here and I’ll get him to you.’
‘I will do. I’ll be there as quick as I can. I’m so sorry about all this, can’t tell you how thankful I am that you’re looking out for him.’ The praise made his skin crawl in and odd way that wasn’t entirely unpleasant.
‘Sure, no problem.’ He hangs up the phone and looks down at Jamie wondering what the fuck he’d just got himself into. ‘You hungry?’
‘Uh, no… thanks.’ He added the thanks after a moment’s pause, like he was just remembering he’s meant to be polite.
‘Right.’ That was Roy’s first idea out of the window. ‘Do you want to play some football?’ Roy was exhausted from the match and had already changed out of his kit, but he didn’t have any better ideas and he figured playing with a kid who couldn’t be older than ten wouldn’t be too straining. That seemed to be the right call as Jamie’s face immediately lit up into a bright smile.
‘You’ll play football with me?’ Awe shone through his voice.
‘Yeah, come on, let’s go.’ He leads Jamie in through the back door of the stadium and through the corridors. Jamie looks around in awe, but dutifully keeps up with Roy and not stopping to get a better look at anything. If this was a home game, he’d probably take Jamie out on the pitch. He’s friendly enough with the Chealsea groundsmen that he’d get away with it, but here he’s not so confident and he doesn’t want to disappoint Jamie if they’re told to just fuck off, so once he grabs a ball from the kit room, he takes Jamie to a park just down the road, texting Georgie to update her of their location.
Once they get there, there’s already a group of kids playing a game with the goals set up in the field and Roy would like to avoid getting recognised and mobbed if he can help it so he lead’s Jamie to an unoccupied corner of the park. There’s a gap between a couple of trees that Roy figures they can use as a makeshift goal.
‘You play much?’ Jamie nods enthusiastically. ‘Great. How about you start with the ball over there and try and get it past me and through the gap between those two trees?’ Jamie nods again with a determined look on his face. ‘Right, whenever you’re ready then.’
Roy hadn’t been planning to try particularly hard to stop Jamie scoring, but he wasn’t at all ready for the way Jamie tears down the field, keeping control of the ball the whole way, running past Roy before he can even react and kicking the ball right through the middle of the gap. He doesn’t look all that pleased with his achievement however as he turns back to Roy with his arms crossed.
‘You didn’t even try!’
‘You just caught me off guard, you’re faster than I expected.’ Jamie seems to contemplate that for a moment then beams widely at the praise. ‘Want to go again?’ Jamie is already running to fetch the ball and carries it back into position.
This time when Jamie runs Roy gives him a bit of a harder time, forcing him to swerve around him which he does brilliantly, but doesn’t chase him down as he runs the rest of the way and takes the shot which again goes right through the centre of the two trees.
‘Good Job,’ he praises, genuinely meaning is. The kid clearly has talent and Roy briefly wonders if anyone’s taken notice of him yet. Instead taking the praise, Jamie eyes him with his arms crossed again.
‘You weren’t trying that time either.’ Roy fights the urge to roll his eyes.
‘Kid, I’m a professional footballer. I’ve been doing this practically every day for longer than you’ve even been alive, you’re not going to get past me if I try my hardest.’
‘Still want to try.’ This time Roy does roll his eyes, but figures he’ll make his point then go back to taking it easy on Jamie once he starts whining about not getting anywhere.
‘Alright then, lets go again.’ Jamie runs and Roy doesn’t hold back (well maybe a little just so he doesn’t injure the kid). He runs at Jamie and swiftly dribbles the ball from under his feet, taking it back beyond their starting line. He expects to see Jamie looking dejected or at least a little put out, but instead Jamie is beaming at him.
‘Again!’ He cries, running up to where Roy’s stopped with the ball. Roy jogs back to his starting position.
Jamie it seems is a fast learner, because when Roy comes at him again ready to sweep the ball from under his feet again, he swerves the opposite way. It only stops Roy from getting the ball for another few seconds, but nevertheless he looks pleased with himself. That pattern continues the next few times they try, Jamie anticipates what Roy’s going to do, often successfully manages to prevent it only to lose the ball seconds later. Every time Roy expects Jamie to get fed up but instead his smile only grows wider and he has a renewed look of determination every time he gets into his position.
After they’ve been playing for god knows how long, Jamie still seems to have boundless energy while Roy feels himself flagging. Roy’s barely had time to catch his breath from the last time when Jamie starts running again. He weaves around Roy and takes a sharp turn which Roy doesn’t expect and his fatigue doesn’t allow him to react fast enough so Jamie breaks away and takes a shot. The ball sails through the air and in between the trees, only coming to a stop when it hits the fence behind.
‘Fucking hell,’ Roy remarks between laboured breaths. Jamie looks completely stunned.
‘I scored against Roy Kent.’ The words come out barley as a whisper and Roy’s pretty sure they weren’t meant for him to hear. Roy expects (hopes) that Jamie will be satisfied having scored and will be done with playing, but of course Jamie runs to grab the ball and places it back down on the starting point then looks at Roy expectantly.
‘I need a fucking break.’ Jamie frowns at him. ‘I played a full ninety minute match before this and we’ve been going at this for,’ he glances down at his watch and sees nearly forty minutes have passed, ‘forty fucking minutes. Your mum will be here soon anyway, let’s sit down for a moment while we wait for her.’
‘Fine,’ Jamie replies but the pout on his face says he’s not happy about it. Roy close to collapses down onto the grass. Jamie sits next to him but is clearly still restless as he plays with the ball in his hands. Roy begins to think he should have just pushed through the exhaustion until Jamie’s mum arrived to collect him because now he’s forced to try and make conversation with the kid and he has no fucking clue how to interact with a child.
‘Do you want to play when you’re older, like professionally and all that?’
‘Yeah! My da says I’m good. He said there’s people watching me to see if I’m good enough for City.’ So there are people who’ve taken notice of the kid then. ‘He says I’ve got to push myself if I want to be the best.’ It all sounds eerily familiar to what Roy heard over and over when he was Jamie’s age but he doesn’t let himself dwell on that for too long.
‘You’ve got a lot of potential.’
‘You really think so?’ Jamie’s looking up at him with wide eyes.
‘Yeah, you were fucking good just now, and you’re clearly willing to put the work in.’ The beam that spreads across Jamie’s face is blinding and Roy feels a smile make its way onto his own face in response. Thankfully he’s saved from dealing with any more emotions by a notification on his phone, a text from Georgie.
Are you still at the park? I’ve parked as close as I can but match day’s a bit of a nightmare. Will walk the rest of the way.
Roy shots back a reply confirming that they’re still at the park which Georgie replies to with more thanks than necessary.
‘Your mum’s nearly here.’ A flash of disappointment passes over Jamie’s face and Roy finds he’s not as relieved as he thought he would be. ‘Did you have a good time?’
‘Yeah! The best!’
‘Good, yeah. I had fun too.’ Another beam spreads across Jamie’s face and Roy’s really glad no one’s watching them because he has a reputation to maintain, can’t be caught smiling this much.
‘Can I ask you a question?’ Jamie asks after a moments silence.
‘Sure yeah go ahead.’
‘How do you not be sad when you lose?’ Roy blanches at the question. His actual answer of drink and maybe find a quick hookup to distract himself isn’t exactly child friendly. Fuck, he’s meant to be a role model or some shit, give the kid some good advice.
‘You don’t. Losing fucking sucks but that’s the game, you just have to deal with it and get ready for the next one.’ He surprises himself with how true his words are.
‘Oh.’ Jamie doesn’t look particularly satisfied by that answer and Roy doesn’t blame him. He certainly wishes there was some magical way not to feel like complete shit every time he fucks up a game. ‘You don’t seem sad now though.’
Huh. Roy realises today’s loss hadn’t even crossed his mind since he started playing with Jamie.
‘Yeah, well maybe hanging out with someone cool helps a bit.’
The rest of the time before Georgie arrives is filled with Jamie asking a million hyper-specific questions about the ins and outs of being a Premier League footballer which Roy finds himself actually enjoying answering unlike when he’s forced into doing press conferences. They’re so engrossed in the conversation that he misses Georgie’s text telling him she’s arrived, only noticing her presence when he happens to glance up and sees a woman standing over them. Jamie follows Roy’s gaze and jumps up to his mum who pulls him into a tight hug.
‘Hiya Jam, looks like you’ve had a good time.’ Jamie nods rapidly. Georgie turns to Roy, one arm still around Jamie’s shoulders. ‘I really can’t tell you how grateful I am for you staying with him.’
‘I had a great time. He’s a great kid, great footballer too.’ Jamie is practically jumping up and down with excitement as he beams up at his mum.
‘He is isn’t he?’ she says, staring lovingly down at Jamie. ‘Still, thank you. It was really generous of you to offer, and I’m sure Jamie’s very grateful too.’ She nudges Jamie and nods her head towards Roy.
‘Yes! Thank you very much!’ Roy kneels down so he’s at eye level with Jamie.
‘Keep working hard, yeah? Maybe in a few years we’ll get to play against each other in a proper game.’ Jamie’s eyes are wide with wonder. He nods rapidly and then his face steels into a look of determination.
‘I’m going to get faster and better and then I’m going to beat you.’ Roy chuckles.
‘We’ll see about that won’t we. Or perhaps you can come to Chelsea and we can be on the same side, then no one can beat us.’ Jamie’s face wrinkles in disgust.
‘No way, I’m going to play for City. You should come to City.’
‘No fu- no fudging way.’ He’s already sworn far more than he should have around Jamie, but he doesn’t want Jamie’s mum to be pissed at him for it.
‘I’ll just have to beat you then.’ Roy lets out another laugh.
‘Well either way I look forward to it.’ Much to Jamie’s disappointment and honestly Roy’s too, Georgie announces that they should be getting back home. Roy is startled as Jamie wraps his arms around him and nestles his head into his stomach. It takes a moment for Roy’s brain to come back online but when it does he tentatively hugs Jamie back.
‘Thank you,’ Jamie whispers then reluctantly pulls away. Roy gives him one last pat on the shoulder.
‘Good lad.’ Jamie beams again, though somewhat mournfully as he turns back to his mum.
‘Goodbye Roy Kent.’
‘Goodbye Jamie,’ And Roy’s frozen in place watching him walk away, exhausted but feeling lighter than he had in ages.
He’s pulled out of his trance by Keeley nudging his arm and raising an eyebrow looking between him and Georgie. Fuck he’d probably been staring and looking like a complete weirdo. Georgie smiles knowingly at him over Jamie’s shoulder.
‘Hi Roy.’
‘We… met,’ he stammers out, half his brain still stuck in the memory. Out the corner of his eye he sees Keeley’s eyebrows rise sharply.
‘Jamie didn’t think you remembered.’ Jamie had pulled out of the hug now, but was steadfastly refusing to look in Roy’s direction, a bit of pink lighting up on his cheek.
‘I didn’t realise… never made the connection. I’m a fucking idiot.’ Now that he thought about it he really should have figured it out sooner. An insanely talented and determined kid from Manchester with a shit Dad whose name and age lined up perfectly, of course it was fucking Jamie Tartt. He wanted to say… something to Jamie, but he had no idea where to even begin.
‘Is anyone going to tell me what’s going on?’ Keeley’s question broke through the awkward silence.
‘Roy and Jamie spent what I believe Jamie described as the ‘best day of his entire life ever’ together after his shitstain of a father abandoned him outside the Etihad stadium,’ Georgie explained with that grin of a parent who took just a little bit of pleasure embarrassing their kid.
‘Mummy!’ Jamie whined, the pink on his cheek now looking closer to a deep red. Roy hardly notices as the words ‘best day of his entire life’ played over in his head and a sudden guilt overcomes him. Because he’d been such a dick to Jamie when he first came to Richmond, and yeah Jamie was a dick right back but as he thinks back to their first meeting he realises with horror that Jamie hadn’t been mocking him, he’d been genuinely excited to be playing with him.
‘Come on then, no use in us all standing out here when we’ve got a couple of perfectly nice sofas.’ The man who Roy’s pretty sure Jamie called Simon gestured along the hallway and lead them through to the living room. Jamie very briefly makes eye contact with him as they sit down but quickly tears his eyes away and curls up into his mum’s arms on one sofa while Roy and Keeley take the other. He vaguely registers Simon saying something about baking but doesn’t realised quite what until there’s a tray of baked goods being held out in front of him.
Roy’s staring, he knows he is but he can’t help it as he readjusts his entire view of his relationship with Jamie with the added context of their actual first meeting. Jamie seems to have moved on from that and is now talking some nonsense about his hair (what the fuck even is walnut mist?), which Roy supposes makes sense given he’s obviously known the entire time and it’s not quite the same revelation as it is for Roy.
Some silent communication between Georgie and Simon leads to Simon offering Roy and Keeley the ‘grand tour’ which finishes with Roy and Keeley sitting on Jamie Tartt’s childhood bed, Roy face to face with the younger version of himself that lives on Jamie’s bedroom wall.
‘You know for a second there I thought you might have fucked Jamie’s mum.’ Roy turns sharply to glare at Keeley. She laughs. ‘You were staring at her pretty intensely and she’s probably not even that much older than you so I figured it could have happened.’ Roy’s brain short circuits slightly at that.
‘Don’t fucking say that, that’s too fucking weird to even think about.’
‘Yeah alright then, but you’ve got to tell me all about you and Jamie’s first meeting.’ Roy sighs but starts recounting the story anyway.
‘… and he was so fucking determined the whole time, like any normal kid would have gotten fed up or bored after the tenth time they failed but Jamie just kept going over and over, but not like in the insanity doing the same thing again and again expecting different results kind of way but actually trying something new and improving every time.’ Keeley nods along beaming through the whole story. ‘I just… I wonder if it would have changed things if I’d realised it was him from the start. I feel like I’ve only really seen the real Jamie this last season, his drive, his determination. I was so blinded by dumb fucking assumptions I made that I never even bothered to actually pay attention to who he actually is. Do you know what the first thing I said to him when he arrived at Richmond was?’ Keeley shakes her head. ‘Fuck off.’
‘Roy…’
‘I know. I was a massive dickhead who was too caught up in my own head worrying about the end of my career to even listen to whatever he might have wanted to say to me. He was a dick right back to me afterwards so I didn’t feel guilty at the time, but now I can’t help but think that if I had responded differently he… our relationship could have been entirely different.’ Keeley studied him with a look of sympathy that made his guts twist.
‘I’m not going to lie to you Roy, you saying that probably affected him quite a lot, but all the choices he made after that were his own. Yeah you fucked up, but you can’t change the past and you’re here now aren’t you? Sitting in Jamie’s childhood bedroom because you’re worried about him, because you care about him.’ Any other time, any other person and Roy might have denied that he cared about Jamie, tried to rationalise that it was about the team and making sure he could play his best, but he knew that wasn’t true. He wasn’t getting up at four am every day and spending hours of his free time with anyone else on the team after all.
‘I don’t know what to say to him. He must have… he must have thought this whole time that I didn’t remember, that that day didn’t matter enough to me to remember, but it did. I thought about it all the time. I was just too stupid to make the connection.’
‘Just tell him that,’ Keeley replies, like it’s simple. It probably is, probably would be if he wasn’t an emotionally stunted dickhead. He feels Keeley’s hand on his. Earlier he might have assumed it was a romantic gesture, but now he can tell it’s a gesture of comfort, of support. He lets himself take it, and breaths in deeply, thinking about both the versions of Jamie that have simultaneously existed in his head without him knowing, letting those two images merge, realising that they were never all that different in the first place.
He's once again startled out of his thoughts, this time by Jamie walking in. Both he and Jamie are frozen looking at each other. Until they Keeley speaks up.
‘I think the two of you should have a chat. Personally I’d like to have a chat with your mum and see if I can get her to show me some photos of adorable little baby Jamie.’ She doesn’t give either of them the chance to respond before she’s out the door.
‘I’m sorry,’ Roy says. He doesn’t have a plan for what he’s going to say next but as soon as he starts he words all just tumble out. ‘I’m sorry that I made you think I didn’t remember or that I didn’t care. I did remember. I thought about you all the fucking time, I was just too stupid to make the connection. I’m sorry that I was such a dick to you when you first came to Richmond and I’m sorry that we never properly got to play together. It wasn’t a lie when I said I wanted to play with you someday, none of what I said that day was. You were incredible, you are incredible and I’m sorry it took me so long to see it.’ Jamie is staring at him, a stunned expression on his face.
‘Don’t have to apologise,’ he mumbles. ‘I was a prick. Got the chance to play with you and I fucked it all up then I went and fucked your knee so you could never play again.’ Roy’s head immediately snaps up to directly face Jamie.
‘My knee is not your fault. Fucking hell, have you thought that this entire time?’
‘You fucked it tackling me so…’ Jamie determinedly refuses to look Roy in the eye.
‘Exactly, I tackled you. I chose to do that. I was on my way out anyway, fizzling out into mediocrity. I was so angry about it at the time. I wasn’t ready to accept it, but now looking back I’m glad that’s how it went down. Chasing down Jamie Tartt is one hell of a way to end my career.’ Roy lets himself think about the memory, the thrill of chasing Jamie down, of catching up to him. He’s long since accepted that his career is over, but he realises this is the first time he’s allowed himself to look back on that memory and enjoy it for what it was: a great fucking tackle. ‘Maybe we didn’t get to properly play together, but we said that would never fucking happen anyway. We did get to play against each other though. Everything after that match might have been shit, but it was some great fucking football wasn’t it?’
‘Yeah I guess it was.’ A smile breaks out on Jamie’s face, sending a warmth across Roy’s chest and he can’t help but smile in return.
‘Come on then, we need to get you back to the hotel and in bed so you can play some even better football tomorrow. Gonna beat them this time.’ For a moment Jamie doesn’t react, and then he lurches forwards towards Roy and wraps in a tight hug, just like the one he’d given as a child except this time instead of his head being nestled in his stomach, it’s nestled on his shoulder. Roy wraps his arms back around Jamie in turn and thinks that perhaps he didn’t completely fuck this up after all.