Danny was surprised to see another boy arrive with Kofi.
He had been sitting in the Starbucks opposite the pub for half an hour. And he’d spotted nothing unusual. No ex-players. No one smoking in the doorway. None of the men in the four photos Holt had emailed him. The coffee shop had been quiet too. People talking, tapping keyboards over a cold cappuccino. Non-customers, sneaking in to use the toilet.
But now it was lunchtime. And getting busier.
Kofi waved and smiled openly when he saw Danny. Then he and the other lad picked their way through the chaos of tables to the window area where Danny had set himself up.
‘This is Ian Mills,’ Kofi said, facing Danny, the other boy behind him. He had a shaved head, suntanned face and was wearing sunglasses on an overcast day. Something in Kofi’s eyes was telling Danny he was sorry that Ian had come, that he hadn’t actually invited him. No words passed between them. But Danny knew it.
‘Hi Ian. I’m Danny.’
Ian nodded. And Danny noticed he had faint scratches on his cheek. Like he’d been in a fight or something.
‘Would you like a drink, Danny?’ Kofi asked.
‘No thanks,’ Danny said, glancing at his unfinished coffee.
‘Macchiato for me, Kofi,’ Ian said, making to sit. Then he peeled twenty pounds off a huge handful of notes and handed it to Kofi. ‘On me,’ he said.
And Kofi was off, heading for the counter, leaving Danny to work out who Ian was and what he should say to him.
But it was Ian who started asking the questions.
‘You look familiar,’ Ian said. ‘Have I seen you before?’
Danny shook his head, smiling. But deep down his stomach contracted. Had Ian seen the photo fit that was supposed to be in the paper today? Maybe it did look like Danny.
‘Are you a fan?’ Ian went on, once he’d stopped looking out of the window at two girls who were walking past.
‘A City fan? Yeah,’ Danny replied.
‘A fan of Kofi,’ Ian said, ‘I mean, like a – you know – hanger-on?’
Danny wondered if he’d heard Ian right. It was an odd question. ‘We’re more like friends,’ he said.
Ian looked surprised. Then he said, ‘I’ve been on City’s books since I was nine.’
Danny nodded. A player. This was more interesting. ‘Do you train with Kofi?’ he asked.
‘Not any more,’ Ian said. ‘I’m considering my options. Might have a trial at Forza FC. They’re an Italian club. They’re going to be huge.’
This must mean that Ian had been let go by City, that the club didn’t think he was good enough. There was no way he’d be talking about another club like this otherwise. But Danny didn’t push. He had no idea what being released by a football club would feel like – so he left it.
Ian went on. ‘They’re playing their first year in the Champions League this season.’
‘Yes, I’ve seen them,’ Danny said. He wanted to say more. Say that he knew all about the Champions League, thanks very much. But Ian was gazing out of the window at a truck reversing. Its beep-beep-beeping filling the café as someone opened the door to leave.
Danny decided to keep his mouth shut. He wished Kofi would come back with the drinks.
‘So how do you know Kofi then, if … you’re not at City?’ Ian asked.
Danny smiled again. Ian was making some pretty strange assumptions. That footballers didn’t know real people like him. That Kofi had to get something out of Danny for him to bother being friends with him. Maybe it was true for Ian, Danny thought. He didn’t really know what to say in response.
Mercifully Kofi arrived then with a cup of black tea for himself and a funny-looking coffee for Ian.
‘How is school?’ Kofi asked. ‘What are you learning?’
‘School!’ Ian broke in. ‘You’re still at school?’ He sounded shocked.
‘I’m fourteen,’ Danny said.
‘I pretty much left school when I was thirteen,’ Ian interrupted. ‘Once I was at City and I knew I was going to be a pro footballer.’
Danny ignored him and just answered Kofi’s question. ‘English. Maths. That sort of thing.’
‘Boring,’ said Ian, watching a young woman who was leaning against a lamppost, laughing into a mobile phone.
Danny looked down at his drink. He was surprised Ian wasn’t making him feel more angry. In fact, he was just amused at how ridiculous Ian seemed.
‘City have offered to put me on an educational course,’ Kofi said. ‘At night school.’
‘Great,’ Danny said.
‘Waste of time,’ Ian said, still not even bothering to turn away from the window to speak to them properly. ‘You don’t need to pass exams to make money. Footballer or not.’
Kofi made a little shrugging gesture to Danny.
Danny glanced at his watch, hoping Ian would leave.
‘I want to show you my new home,’ Kofi said to Danny after a moment.
‘You’ve moved in?’ Danny said, noticing Ian was now looking more interested in the conversation.
‘Yes. And I have some good things. A stereo. A TV. Lots of new things. I have never had these things before. City have given them to me.’
‘That’s great,’ Danny said, looking at Ian again, wondering if he was going to speak. The boy was suddenly paying attention and had a black look on his face. Like he was jealous.
‘I bet they’re the best money can buy too,’ Ian spat.
‘Yes. They are very good,’ Kofi said cheerfully.
Ian glared out of the window again as Kofi wrote something on a notepad.
‘This is my new home address,’ Kofi said, passing a piece of paper across Ian to Danny.
Danny noticed Ian look at it and sneer.
Half an hour later they were still in Starbucks. It had been a strange thirty minutes. Danny reflected that sometimes it was hard to talk to a friend when there was somebody new there. But now the subject had changed to the City FC burglaries. And that, at least, interested Danny. Especially as Ian was still showing off about what he knew.
‘That’s five of the lads burgled,’ he was saying.
Danny nodded.
‘And do you know where they all live?’ Ian carried on.
‘No,’ Danny said, neither wishing to incriminate himself nor stop Ian telling him.
‘Baird lives in a gated street in Fixham. The village north of the city. It’s as exclusive as you can get. Sabella and Butterworth live in flats in that tower block by the canal. The one that’s a Hilton hotel on the first thirty floors, then penthouses above. They live there.’
Ian was delivering all this information as if he knew all the players personally and had been to their houses. But Danny was pleased he was boasting. He hadn’t known all this. It was a huge help.
‘Then it was Hawley earlier this week, and François last night. Another gated street. With security. And all while they were playing away. In Europe.’
Danny nodded again.
‘Through the trees and in through the back door,’ Ian went on, laughing.
Danny nodded a third time. That was spot on. His mind was starting to go over how much Ian knew, the implications. But then he noticed that Ian had eventually stopped speaking and was gazing out of the window. Again.
‘Look at that,’ he said, pointing at a girl. ‘Nice. She’s waving at me.’
Danny looked. The girl was waving. But not at Ian. She was waving at Danny – and at Kofi. And that was because it was Charlotte.
‘She’s coming in,’ Ian said, half standing with excitement. ‘She must be a fan.’
‘Ian,’ Kofi said calmly. ‘That is Charlotte. She is a friend of Danny.’
Ian nodded, but Danny couldn’t tell if he’d taken in what Kofi had said.
They all watched Charlotte as she walked towards them.
‘Hello,’ Ian said to Charlotte.
Charlotte smiled as she approached the table, then looked at Danny, brushing a strand of hair away from her eyes.
‘I can’t stop,’ she said. ‘I’m meeting my mum.’
‘Sit here,’ Ian said, patting his chair. ‘I’ve kept it warm for you.’
Charlotte smiled again, but Danny saw the Who on earth is this? look in her eyes.
‘You a schoolgirl too?’ said Ian, looking at Charlotte, then at Danny.
‘Yes,’ Charlotte replied in a cool voice, deadpan.
‘I’m Ian Mills. I’m a … footballer.’
‘You were,’ Danny said, under his breath, watching Ian drop a set of car keys on the table, a large Porsche logo on one of them.
‘You don’t look like a footballer,’ Charlotte said, ignoring the keys. Then she turned to Kofi. ‘How are you doing, Kofi? Are they looking after you?’
‘Yes, thank you. I am very happy.’
Danny had to cough to stop himself laughing. Charlotte had stopped Ian boasting with one remark. Genius.
Charlotte only stayed for another five minutes – she seemed to notice the tension round the table.
‘I have to go,’ she said. ‘See you tomorrow, Danny?’
Danny nodded. Then Charlotte hugged Kofi. ‘It’s lovely to see you,’ she said.
‘It is lovely to see you too,’ Kofi said, grinning.
Ian was leaning back in his seat. He had his mobile phone in his hand. Then, after having said nothing for three minutes, he said, ‘Can I have your number?’ looking at Charlotte.
Charlotte smiled. ‘No,’ she said. ‘You can’t.’