CHAPTER 4

‘CHEER UP,’ JAMIE said to Tulsi, as they walked over to the playing field. ‘It’s not as bad as it seems. You heard what Mr Wood said. We’re all much fitter. And we’ll need to be for the tournament.’

‘But I liked being the fittest person in the school,’ replied Tulsi. ‘I thought I still was.’

‘Come on,’ said Jamie. ‘We can be partners. You’re definitely better at ball control than me. You can help me.’

‘It’s a good thing we’ve got Jamie,’ TJ said to Rob, as they picked up a ball and went to work in one of the ten-metre squares marked out on the field. ‘If anyone can make Tulsi feel better it’s him.’

Rob nodded in agreement. ‘We’d better start,’ he said. ‘What did Mr Wood tell us to do?’

‘Left foot then right foot,’ TJ replied. ‘Pass and control. Then pass, control and move.’

They had only been working for a couple of minutes when Rob stopped. He put his foot on the ball and pointed at the playground. ‘Who’s that?’ he asked.

TJ looked where Rob was pointing. The head teacher, Mr Burrows, was walking towards them with a young man and a taller bald one who had an enormous camera slung around his neck. Mr Wood stopped the session and called everyone together.

‘As you know,’ Mr Burrows said, ‘the inspectors have produced a truly excellent report on our school. When I told our local paper about it they were very keen to do a feature on us. And about all of you. This is Mr, er . . .’

‘Call me Dan,’ said the young man, whipping a notebook from his pocket.

‘Just like yours,’ TJ whispered to Rob.

‘You can keep on with what you were doing,’ Dan said. ‘Barry here’ll come round and take some snaps.’

‘Off you go, everyone,’ Mr Burrows urged them. ‘Our training is second to none,’ TJ heard him saying to the reporter. ‘Our Mr Wood is a magnificent coach . . .’

TJ and Rob went back to work. They carried on as if it was just a normal Games lesson, though it wasn’t easy to concentrate, as the photographer circled around them and the flash from the camera dazzled them. ‘That’ll do,’ Mr Wood said finally. ‘You’ve worked hard this afternoon. Let’s have some fun to finish off. Five-a-side. I’ll pick the teams.’

TJ found himself in a team with Rafi, Tommy, Cameron and Leila. ‘I’ll go in goal,’ Leila volunteered. ‘I’d like to try. I’ve never done it before.’

‘We’ll swap if you let one in,’ TJ said, as they put on green training bibs. The other team were in red, and they had Jamie in goal, Tulsi up front and Rob in midfield.

‘This is going to be tough,’ Rafi said.

‘Not if you mark Tulsi properly,’ TJ replied. ‘Rob told me what to do, so it’ll serve him right if they lose. Cameron, you mark her. Tommy, you just have to be ready if she goes past Cameron. You don’t need to worry about whoever you were marking, because when Tulsi’s in on goal she only thinks about one thing – scoring.’

The others nodded. ‘It might just work,’ Cameron said.

The Greens kicked off with TJ playing on his own up front. He gave the ball to Rafi who set off on a mazy dribble and then back-heeled it to Leila. Leila played the ball quickly to TJ’s feet and he slipped past Rob with a lightning burst of speed. Rob might be able to keep going longer, thought TJ, but I bet I’ll always beat him over twenty metres.

He considered shooting, but then he looked up and saw Jamie. He was perfectly positioned in front of his goal, so TJ pulled the ball back for Rafi who was racing towards the penalty area at top speed. It would have been perfect if Rafi hadn’t tripped over the ball. He tumbled head over heels two or three times and the ball trickled harmlessly forward to a very relieved Jamie, who grinned. ‘Close!’ he said, laughing, as Rafi jumped to his feet. ‘You’re supposed to kick it, not fall over it!’

Before Rafi could think of a clever reply, Jamie had rolled the ball to Ariyan and Rafi had to chase back hard. But he couldn’t catch Ariyan in time and Ariyan gave the ball to Rob who instantly snapped a pass to Tulsi. She turned and came face to face with Cameron. Cameron hesitated as Tulsi took the ball towards him, and Tulsi took her chance, jumping neatly over his outstretched foot.

‘Yes!’ cried Rob, sprinting into space down the right wing. But Tulsi ignored him. She could see the goal and she was going to shoot. She was a striker, after all! She took one final touch – and Tommy whipped the ball away from her. She was already committed to the shot, but her foot connected with empty air and she landed flat on her back with a thump that knocked all the breath out of her – just as the camera flashed.

When the game finished, the photographer was waiting at the edge of the pitch. ‘I’ll need some names,’ he said. ‘We have to make sure everyone knows who you are. Your teachers will check with your mums and dads if it’s OK for you to have your pictures in the paper.’

‘Please,’ said Tulsi. ‘You won’t use that picture you took of me, will you? When I fell over.’

‘Of course not, love,’ replied the photographer. ‘I thought you were going to score a brilliant goal. There’s bound to be a better one than that. Now, tell me how to spell your name . . .’