TWO MONTHS LATER
Jill had no idea what she was doing, nor how she had ended up on a soccer pitch, dressed in skimpy shorts and a too-tight jersey. She looked behind her. Amelia was gazing out over the pitch, focused on the position of the ball. Speaking of, where was the ball? Jill should probably keep an eye on it as well, seeing that she was playing in defense. But even if she did, it wouldn’t make any difference to the team. She was just here to make up the numbers, because who in their right mind wanted to compete in a soccer tournament on Boxing Day? Amelia Shaw, that’s who.
Amelia now had such sway over Jill that she had, firstly, convinced her to join the Darlinghurst Darlings and, secondly, persuaded her to play in the tournament. As a psychiatrist, she instinctively knew this wasn’t right. Yes, Jill was absolutely crazy about Amelia, but she’d never in a million years imagined herself doing this—playing soccer and thus making a fool of herself—for another woman.
“Jill,” Amelia shouted from behind her. “Look out!”
Amelia took her new role as coach of the Darlings extremely seriously—this, apparently, included raising her voice at everyone on the team, including her own girlfriend. A player of the opposite team dribbled toward the goal. Jill had to do something to stop her. Amelia had tried to teach her how to tackle an opponent—always play the ball, never the woman—but Jill had not taken to it. It required her body to make a sliding motion that simply didn’t come naturally to her. Jill should be stealing leftover turkey from the fridge, not trying to stop a woman from shooting at Amelia’s goal.
Half-heartedly, she ran toward the other team’s forward. It wasn’t the first time Jill had tried to stop her during this game. Luckily, the Darlings had two other defenders, who picked up all of Jill’s slack. Earlier, after Amelia had made a save, she had told Jill that it was all right. Nobody had high expectations of her during her very first game, especially with her non-existent soccer background.
Still, Jill tried to make an effort. She tried to at least put her body in front of the other player, but the woman was very fast and agile with the ball. How was it even possible to control a round object with your feet like that? It defied all laws of physics. But that it was very much possible was currently impossible to ignore. Soccer was big business all around the world, a fact that Jill enjoyed needling Amelia about.
“For someone who likes to rant about the evils of capitalism, you sure don’t have the same complaints about soccer, darling,” Jill had said while Amelia was watching a game the other day.
“Some things bring too much joy to spend energy on rants about them,” Amelia had simply replied. She had effectively shut Jill up with one single sentence, which was also due to the fact that Jill wanted nothing more than for Amelia to experience maximum joy in her life. If there was one activity that brought her joy, it was soccer. Hence Jill’s presence on this very soccer pitch.
There was no chance in hell she’d be catching the other team’s player.
“Oh, bugger,” she heard Hera say from a few meters away. They both looked on as Amelia came out of her goal to either heroically stop the ball from entering her goal or, if she didn’t succeed, say goodbye to keeping a clean sheet. Amelia slid forward, forcing the forward to make her final move. She tried to lob the ball over Amelia, who managed to swat it away thanks to her long arms.
Unlike Jill, Hera ran toward the goal to try to recapture the ball before the opposite team tried scoring again. Of course, Jill wanted the Darlings to win, but she wasn’t entirely sure how much she was willing to break into a sweat to help this happen.
“Go, Hera,” Katherine shouted from the sideline. Seeing her there, all glammed up as usual, made Jill wonder again what she was doing on the pitch instead of cheering on the Darlings from the side. She only had to cast another glance at Amelia to know the reason. The woman was so damn persuasive, Jill simply couldn’t say no. She should address this with Vic, before it turned into an actual problem. But Amelia was in her element amongst her team. So, of course Jill had wanted to join, if only to see how she behaved surrounded by her teammates.
Jill watched as Hera retrieved the ball. Their gazes locked across the distance. Oh, no. Hera kicked the ball toward her. Jill didn’t even have time to take a breath. She caught the ball awkwardly against her hip, off which it bounced, and landed a few feet away from her.
“Go on then, Jill,” a woman shouted from the sideline, but Jill had no time to check who it was. She had to do something with the ball before the other team took it from her and assailed Amelia’s goal again. She sprinted toward the ball and, once there, glanced around to spot an available Darling to pass it to. Sheryl was only a few feet ahead of her, shouting for Jill to pass her the ball. How could she be eager for it? She’d joined the Darlings at the same time as Jill. Unlike Jill she had taken to it like a duck to water, although, by her own admission, her level of physical fitness left a lot to be desired. Jill couldn’t get rid of the ball in her possession quickly enough—which probably wasn’t the right attitude to have on a soccer pitch—so she passed it to Sheryl, only for it to end up in the feet of an opponent. Oh well. She had tried. If the coach wanted to give her an earful for another botched-up pass, Jill knew how to deal with that. She would tackle her straight onto the bed and kiss her until she shut up.
Before the other team could make another dash at Amelia’s goal, the ref blew the whistle for half-time. Dawn jogged up to Jill.
“Are you having fun?” she asked.
“Maybe fun is not the right word for it.”
“I know the coach pretty well.” Dawn grinned at her. “I can put in a good word to have you substituted in the second half.”
For this Boxing Day match, the Darlings had only one substitute player on the bench who, according to Amelia—and said to Jill in the strictest confidence during pillow talk last night—had the least natural ability with a football Amelia had ever witnessed. She did attract the most attention, however, even while sitting on the bench.
“Hey,” Amelia took Jill aside for a second. “Sorry for shouting earlier.”
“Don’t worry about it. Things get said in the heat of the game. I understand.”
“How are you holding up?” Amelia asked while taking off her gloves.
“More than ready to be substituted,” Jill admitted.
“Okay.” They walked into the locker room together. “Time to throw Caitlin James to the lions.”