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“You’re not gonna run with us, Coach?” Niamh asked once everyone had assembled outside. Beard was already getting into the officer’s car, clearly all too happy to get a ride after what seemed like a strange night for him. Alice wondered if that was the sort of thing Ted knew how to handle— and if he was going to.
Miss Welton had one foot into the front passenger side, watching as the team looked at Alice with eager glee. Any qualms they had about running were clearly fake. They were professional athletes after all, and practice had been canceled earlier. Alice remembered that feeling: needing to get the energy out on slow days.
“Yeah. Come on now, we all know you’re mad fit,” Siobhan called from the back of the congregation. There were whispers. “I meant that in a totally-respectful, you’re-very-in-shape way, not in a you’re—!” Somebody clapped a hand over her mouth. Thank God.
“Now, Coach,” Ted whispered, holding the door for Miss Welton while she stood there. That’s a long time to wait, Alice thought absently as she looked between the car and the girls. “You know you don’t gotta, right? I mean, just explain to the ladies. They’ll understand.”
I’d rather die, Alice wanted to bite back. “Alright fine,” she said to the team, raising her voice. They all cheered. “But I’m not leading. I clock out at six.” They all snickered. It was gratifying. She nodded towards Lizzie, who gave her a little salute.
“Alright, get going!” The captain waved her hands to get everyone moving with the intent of bringing up the rear. “And no splitting off, you hear me? I’ll be watching.”
Alice watched as Mady and Margy fell into step next to each other and the twins took off, hellbent on beating each other to the pub. Gemma and Shannon were in the middle of the pack, cracking jokes and laughing as they got up to speed. Boots lazed at the back, biding her time to overtake the twins.
“Be careful,” Ted told Alice as the women got further away, their shadows dancing in the reflection from the streetlight off the cobblestone. “And remember, you can always stop—”
“Thank you,” Alice interrupted, conscious that Miss Welton, Coach Beard, and Lizzie were watching. “I’ll be fine. We’ll see you there.” She turned towards Lizzie, so she only heard Ted sigh and didn’t see it. “Ready?”
Lizzie grinned, distinctly not looking ready for a run in her outfit from the pub, her jacket pulled tight against the night. “Ready, Coach.”
Alice managed to crack a smile in return— and then they were off.
***
The first few blocks were easy. Being cooped up in the cell made Alice’s knees stiff, so it actually wasn’t such a bad idea. She and Lizzie caught up to the group within two hundred meters. Alice would be lying if she said she hadn’t missed this: running in a pack like women possessed, the night air nipping at her cheeks.
“What was all that about, then?” Lizzie asked when the silence between them became overbearing. You can only listen to the rhythm of footsteps for so long. “Seemed like Coach didn’t want you to run with us?”
“I drank some.” Alice tried to shrug it off. She didn’t owe this woman her story just because she was being nice enough to pull her steps a little so they stayed at the same pace. “I think Americans sometimes forget how well we can hold our alcohol.”
Lizzie hummed. “I don’t believe you.”
Despite herself, Alice laughed. “Of course not.”
The corner of the captain’s mouth twitched. “When you have a convincing lie to tell, come back to me.”
“Will do,” Alice found herself saying. She didn’t know where it came from, but she found she meant it. “What about Archie?” she asked, and she didn’t know where that came from either. “Didn’t his mum kind of have to be home for bedtime like—” Alice checked her watch— ”five hours ago now?”
“You remembered his name?” Lizzie sounded pleased. Thankfully, Alice managed not to give her further satisfaction with an answer and kept her mouth shut. “He’s with his grandparents tonight. They’re in town til next Saturday. They might be more excited about my being with Richmond than I am.”
Alice couldn’t find the words to say how lovely that was, so she just listened. Inexplicably, she heard Ted’s voice in her head: what’s her story?
“My dad loves being with Archie anyways. They have so much fun and my mum gets to cook a big meal for them, so everyone wins.” Up ahead, the twins began to bicker. Even from the back of the group, Alice could already tell this much: Siobhan was trying to pull Niamh’s hair because somehow, Niamh had managed to untie one of Siobhan’s shoes without breaking stride, and now they were disrupting the entire neighborhood. “Fucking idiots,” Lizzie muttered. “Don’t worry, Coach, I’ll handle it,” she promised, and then she was off.
Alice watched as the captain broke through her ranks, pushing between Mady and Margy who were flirting with remarkable skill despite the run, and pulling Boots along to back her up.
“God, we’re not children, Cap!” Niamh groaned when she saw Lizzie stride up next to her.
“Then you better stop acting like it!” Lizzie growled, grabbing her arm so that she was on her other side. Boots followed suit, ushering Siobhan to run on her right. Together, centreback and keeper stood a pretty good chance at serving as a buffer.
Suddenly, Alice realized she didn’t feel cold anymore. At the same time, she realized her left knee felt very warm, the kind of warm it got when she stood on it for too long without stretching. She took in a deep breath, shortening her strides a little. She focused on clenching and unclenching her hands and not putting too much weight on her right, and—
“Hey, Coach,” a voice said next to her.
Alice jumped. “Jesus fuck!”
“Shit, sorry,” Shannon said. “Were you in the middle of a thought?”
She grunted. Alice liked Shannon well enough, but she couldn’t forget the fact that both she and Beard had agreed the woman wasn’t ready, and Ted’d gone ahead and taken her anyway. Shannon didn’t know that, and it wasn’t her fault. But still.
“I just wanted to ask….” Shannon began slowly. “I mean, I know that I need to work on some stuff, and you used to be a midfielder, right? So I thought—”
“How did you know that?” Alice snapped. She didn’t mean to, but her head was starting to get fuzzy from having to focus on every step.
“It’s in your bio on the AFC Richmond website?” Shannon was sounding more and more unsure of herself. “I’m sorry, Coach.” She gnawed at her bottom lip, clearly debating if she should run back up ahead. “I just thought—”
Forcing her temper back down, Alice swallowed hard. “No, I— I apologize, Shannon. I… yeah. I used to be a 10. Sometimes played the 8.” Still, after all this time, the words tasted sour. It’d been years, but speaking about her career as something that was continued to make Alice want to throw up.
“That’s so cool!” Shannon exclaimed.
Alice managed another grunt. She wasn’t sure how many blocks back, but her knee was starting to feel like it was inside a barbecue. “Did you have an actual question?”
“Right, yes!” she said. “So, I was trying to research some drills because I know I lose possession, and I thought that maybe if you had the time you could help me, since you know stuff, and—”
“Shannon,” Alice hissed before reminding herself to take another deep breath. “Just ask me, alright?” she told her, gentler. She bumped shoulders with her. The gesture seemed to pleasantly surprise Shannon. “I can’t say yes unless you ask.”
“I want to be better,” Shannon said, finally. “And I think you can help me.”
Putting on her brave face, Alice gave her a tight smile. “I think so too.”
When she turned forward again, the pub was in sight. Already, Ted and Beard were sweeping up the glass, and Miss Welton was speaking with Mae. If Alice had to guess, she was offering to pay for the damages which— fair enough.
“Go on,” Alice said, nodding towards Lizzie who was beginning to divide up tasks. “We can talk about this more after training next time.”
“Okay, thanks, Coach!” Shannon said, still grinning, and then she dashed off.
Now that she was alone, Alice slowed to a walk. Her ears rang, though she processed a wave from Ted, and before she knew it, she was sitting down heavily on the curb. She blinked hard, trying to clear the static from her head. The inside of her knee began to cool. She wasn’t sure it was a feeling she would ever be able to describe to somebody else: how the relief is less like all the pain draining out and instead a slow throb that always exists.
She took a shaky breath, generating some momentum to stand. It's not enough. Immediately, she remembered just why her doctor always recommended sitting somewhere elevated. Fuck. She wanted to reach for it and massage the pain out of the joint, but not in front of everyone.
“Coach?” Lizzie asked, peering at her from between Niamh and Siobhan’s heads and through the rest of the team. “You alright?”
Alice closed her eyes for a count of three. She couldn’t stand up now, not without making the problem obvious. The girls didn’t have to know. It would just scare them. She had to protect them.
“Yeah,” she said, but she could tell her voice came out tight. In spite of herself, she felt her eyes sting. “Guess I’m not as fit as Siobhan thought.” That at least got a laugh. “Get on helping out,” she said, waving the team off and hoping they’d stop staring at her. “We don’t want to be here all night.” She held eye contact with her captain. She hoped the meaning was clear: I don’t have a convincing lie. Help.
Lizzie gave her a subtle nod. “Alright, you heard the woman. We’re going to do this in quadrants, including behind the bar. We owe Mae that.”
Everyone immediately murmured in agreement, and once she heard footsteps receding, Alice dropped her face into her hands. She sighed. “Fucking fuck,” she muttered.
“You should’ve taken the car,” Gemma said, sitting down next to her. Their shoulders brushed. “That big ego of yours stopped you though, huh?”
“Fuck off, Gemma.” Alice did not need this right now. She really didn’t. “Didn’t Lizzie give you a job?”
“Yeah,” Gemma agreed. “Too bad I’ve never been good at listening, right?”
Alice rolled her eyes, but it wasn’t lost on her that Gemma could have gone inside. Or she could have told everyone. And she didn’t.
“It’s still painful then?” Gemma asked after a moment.
“Sometimes,” Alice answered, surprised by her honesty. She traced the lines of cobblestone on the street instead of looking over. “If I’d have stretched, I would’ve been fine. But there wasn’t time.”
“You could’ve.” Alice was surprised by the tenderness in Gemma’s voice. “I would’ve waited for you.”
And Alice couldn’t ignore that. She turned to Gemma before she could stop herself. For the first time tonight, Alice actually took her in. “I thought you didn’t owe me anything.”
“No,” Gemma agreed, rising to her feet and holding her hand out for Alice to take. “But not owing somebody isn’t the same as not caring for her—” she caught herself. “Them. People in general.”
Alice suppressed her smile, taking Gemma’s hand. She couldn’t remember the last time they’d touched. “Right. We can help people even if we hate them.”
“I don’t hate you,” Gemma said quietly, steadying her when Alice put weight back on her knee. It didn’t feel as bad anymore.
“Hey, everything okay?” Ted asked, making his way over. “Sorry, I was explaining to Rebecca that it’s essential we replace the darts, boards, and add a whole new chalkboard to keep score.”
“We’re fine,” Alice answered, pulling her hand from Gemma’s grasp. “Just… stuff with my knee.”
Gemma made a little sound of shock in her throat. Alice could understand it. She never spoke about her injury, not to anyone, not since it happened.
“Oh, well, in that case, Coach, you should head home.” He sounded so genuine that it made Alice’s insides ache. In her slim count of professional days, she couldn’t ever remember having a coach this kind. “Beard or I could take you.”
“Oh, no thank you,” Alice scoffed.
At the same time, Gemma replied, “I’ll take her.”
“I don’t need to be babysat,” Alice disagreed immediately.
“No, you don’t,” Ted agreed. “But it would make me feel a whole lot better if I knew you had someone with you.” He gave her those earnest, American eyes and that big huge grin.
Alice rolled her eyes. “Fine.”
“Good.” Ted reached out to shake her hand but then thought better of it, offering her a fist. Alice bumped her knuckles with him. “You know where you’re going?”
“Don’t worry, Coach,” Gemma chimed in. “It’ll be easy to find. It’ll be the most boring-looking little flat on the block.”
“Oh, shut it,” Alice grumbled, turning to start walking slowly in the direction of home, letting a smile play on her lips as she heard Ted and Gemma laughing behind her, exchanging final farewells for the evening before Gemma returned to her side. “It’s actually not far from here,” she informed Gemma. “I could go alone.”
“You heard the man,” Gemma insisted. “It’ll make him feel better.” She reached over, tugging Alice’s collar out from where it’d folded in. “It would make me feel better too. I’d hate to wake up to the news that you slept on the street.”
“You know, you’re just as annoying as I remember?”
“Thanks.” Gemma grinned. “I try.”
For a few blocks, they walked in silence. Alice appreciated that Gemma didn’t force conversation or ask her if she needed to slow down. Despite the time and distance, they knew each other well enough to know that Alice would ask if she needed something.
The quiet felt good, a different sort than the one mixed in with rhythmic footsteps. Now, Alice could hear her own, steady heartbeat. Sometimes, she forgot to listen for it.
Gemma’s soft breathing filled the rest of the emptiness. Alice forgot the sound of that, too. She had the stray thought that she wouldn’t ever again— forget.
Finally, Alice’s place came into view. “I’m the one on the corner.” She pointed.
“So it is the boring-looking one,” Gemma teased, slapping Alice’s arm. Her hand lingered for a moment.
Alice turned, lips twitching. “Careful, I may pour a pint on you.”
Gemma laughed. It was the only sound on the street. At this hour, it also felt like the best sound in the world.
“Stay off your feet, Coach, alright?” Gemma told her as they climbed the two steps to Alice’s door. “No pacing around the hallway of your flat trying to come up with a gameplan for Chelsea.”
It was a marvel, how you could spend years apart from somebody and they could still know you and know you and know you.
“No,” Alice agreed. “I’ll do that all from a seated position.” She reached into her pocket for her keys. They jingled loudly in the empty night. She hesitated before putting her key in the lock, turning to Gemma. “Gemma,” she started, her voice barely a whisper. Suddenly, she found herself acutely aware that her doorstep was quite small and they were very close together, both on her doormat.
“What?” Gemma looked up at her, almost… shy.
“I never thanked you,” Alice said, feeling something between her ribs come loose as she said it.
“Alice.” It was the softest way Gemma had said her name since they were twenty-one. “It was a fifteen minute walk.”
“I meant— for coming to Richmond.” Alice clenched and unclenched her left hand in her pocket. “I’m… I’m glad you did.”
Gemma’s eyes widened for barely a second, then her surprise was gone. “Same old Alice,” she said. “All soft under there.” She poked Alice in the stomach.
“Hey, I’m injured,” Alice protested half-heartedly.
Gemma pressed her lips together around a smile. “You’ve changed though, too,” she said, her eyes bright with emotion. She frowned a little. “You smile less.”
The statement caused a lump to form in Alice’s throat. “Gemma—”
“And you always fuckin’ dress like you’re about to go on a fishing expedition and then put a picture of you with whatever you caught on Tinder.”
“I don’t have Tinder,” Alice said, feeling a little dumb. She didn’t know what was happening, but she knew it felt good.
“Good to know.” One tear brimmed at the corner of Gemma’s eyes, but she was smiling. She pulled away, as quick as she got close. “Goodnight, Alice.”
Alice breathed in deep, slotting her key into the lock as Gemma took two steps down onto the sidewalk. Alice could still feel her watching. She pushed the door open, debating just heading inside, but at the last second, she turned around:
“Night, Gemma.”