As he and Jack walked out of the main entrance to the stadium – possibly the last time Jamie would ever do so as a Hawkstone United player – his chest brimmed with pride.

He had been brought up and played football on the streets around this ground, and now the greatest club in the world had come in to sign him.

It was perfect. Or rather, nearly perfect.

Because now Jamie had to tell the fans.

There were two hundred there already. They were being supplemented by new arrivals with each passing second as the news that Hawkstone were negotiating with Barcelona began to hit the newswires.

The fans were singing with all their might, waving banners as they did so.

“Don’t go, Jamie!”

“Hawkstone Loves You!”

Ever since the day he’d been a mascot for the club aged eleven, the Hawkstone fans had taken him to their hearts. They were so proud that a little skinny ginger kid from their streets had grown into not only one of the best players to ever pull on a Hawkstone shirt but also one of the most exciting talents in the world.

They loved Jamie and Jamie loved them.

And now he had to tell them he was leaving.

As soon as the fans saw Jamie, they rushed forward, barely able to contain themselves. These fans were pure Hawkstone. Just like Jamie.

“It’s not true!” they begged.

“You’re not going, are you?”

“You said all you ever wanted was to play for us in the Champions League, and now we’re there you’re gonna leave us!”

Jamie looked at the disappointment on the faces of the Hawkstone fans. Suddenly he felt an almost overwhelming desire to cry. He’d only ever wanted to be loved by these fans. He’d dreamed of it every time he and Jack had played football in the park. All those hours of training. All those dreams. Yet, here he was – in their eyes, at least – turning his back on them.

“It’s Barcelona,” was all he could muster by way of an explanation. Public speaking had never been his strength. He preferred to do his talking on the pitch. “Believe me – I would not even think about leaving Hawkstone for anyone else. But this is my chance to play for the best club in the world.”

Somehow his explanation only made the fans more angry. Calling Barça the best club in the world seemed in some way to be a criticism of Hawkstone. But that was not how Jamie had meant it. He would never say a bad word about Hawkstone.

He watched a bunch of kids – all in their Hawkstone tops – as they ran off down the street, angrily kicking stray bottles and fast food containers as they went.

“Go then, Jamie!” one of them turned around and shouted.

Jamie recognized the boy; it was Robbie Simmonds. He was from the same estate as Jamie. Jamie had gone to school with his older brother, Dillon.

“You traitor!”

And with that, Robbie Simmonds tore off his Hawkstone shirt and threw it to the ground in disgust.

There was nothing Jamie could say in response. He knew that if, when he’d been younger, his favourite Hawkstone player had announced that he was leaving the club, Jamie would have reacted in exactly the same way as Robbie.

Jamie looked at Jack. They waited until the kids had turned the corner. Then, together, they walked over to where the Hawkstone top lay strewn in the street, like a dead body on a battlefield.

Jamie bent down and picked it up.

When he saw the back of the shirt, his heart sank.

He turned around and showed it to Jack, revealing the name and number on the back.