Constance and Judith sat in Rosie Harper’s house. The front window and back door were thrown open and the autumn sun streamed in. Debbie sat opposite them in a flowery dress, with matching hairband.
‘You moved back in here?’ Judith began.
‘Ben was so keen. I couldn’t disappoint him,’ Debbie shrugged. ‘And I always hated my flat. This gives us a bit of time with Rosie around us, I think.’
‘How have you been?’ Constance asked.
‘I should be ecstatic, I know; victory snatched from the jaws of defeat and all that.’ Debbie fiddled with the beads on her necklace. ‘But I miss Rosie. I know she wasn’t perfect, but who is? And I go back through that day, what we said to each other, how I behaved. I told her she was being selfish, that she should think more of what was best for Ben, when I had been the selfish one. If I could turn back the clock…’
‘It’s always the way,’ Judith said. ‘We always want one more day, hour, minute with people we love.’
Constance stared one moment too long at Judith.
‘Will you go back to coaching?’ she asked.
Debbie rubbed her hands together. ‘The girls still want me, they said, so I’ll be back there, once things have settled down.’
‘But I heard you had a special visitor?’ Constance said.
‘John Bane, the England captain. He came to see me yesterday. He said I shouldn’t rule out returning to the premiership, said he would back me if I was interested… I don’t think I will.’
‘You’re quite a celebrity now,’ Judith said. ‘You could probably do photoshoots for the rest of your life.’
‘And I saw the interview you gave to the Mail. It was good, positive stuff,’ Constance said. ‘Very novel, beginning with some football in the local park. The photos were fabulous.’
‘It’s good to play while I still can,’ Debbie said.
‘Why didn’t you tell us about your neurological problem?’ Judith asked.
Debbie looked at both women. ‘I’ve had symptoms for a couple of years, but I try to ignore them. They aren’t sure what it is. Sometimes my hands shake. They think it might be the beginning of Parkinson’s. I told you I was taking paracetamol, but it was some tablets prescribed to help.’
‘If it’s Parkinson’s…’
‘It will affect my movement, yes. But football has been my life for twenty-five years; I can’t just stop.’
‘But you don’t have to hide now.’
‘Rosie’s death and all the press coverage has given me back my freedom. It’s all out there; nothing to hide any more. Truly transparent. Someone’s even started a Twitter account called “When Danny met Debbie” and it has two million followers. None of that would have been possible without the cameras.’
‘Hm,’ Judith grunted.
‘Will you take John Bane up on his offer, then?’ Constance asked. ‘He is the England captain after all.’
‘You mean, maybe I can become the UK’s first wheelchair-bound, female, transgender Premier League coach? I’m not sure we’ve come that far.’
‘Why not?’ Constance said. ‘You should embrace the experience,’ thinking of Greg as she spoke.
‘How’s Belle?’ Judith asked.
‘I’ve been making a big fuss of her. Jason must have found my gloves lying around and it was the perfect opportunity for him to frame me, but he hadn’t counted on Belle burying one of them. I would never have suspected him, you know, not in a million years. I didn’t like the guy much from the odd occasion we met; not that I really knew him. I kept my distance, him the same, but I thought he genuinely cared about Rosie, about her career and wellbeing. I thought he was a decent human being. I could never see him being violent either. He always seemed so…fragile, you know, like a paper bag blowing in the wind.’
‘He pulled the wool over our eyes too,’ Judith said. ‘For a while,’ she added hastily.
‘Will there be another trial?’
‘No. With his full confession on tape, his lawyer advised him to plead guilty. He’ll be sentenced soon. He’ll get a minimum of fifteen years, but the prosecution will argue for more, say it was premeditated, that he abused a position of trust – anything to get the sentence increased,’ Constance said.
‘And how’s Ben?’ Judith asked.
‘He’s gone back to school. He missed the first couple of weeks, but they’ve helped him out. He’s going to keep his acting going too.’
‘And Laura?’
‘Laura is having a hard time.’
‘Poor Laura.’
‘She feels very…deceived.’
‘By Ellis.’
‘By the world. He’s still pretending he cares about her. Can you believe it?’
‘Maybe he does? He did look after her and Ben for all those weeks, before your trial.’
‘He’s all false. It’s all an act. He never really accepted Rosie’s achievements. He thought he should have had what she had, despite having only a fraction of her talent. Whatever he says about loving her, he didn’t. He resented her. Maybe it wasn’t his fault. Their parents put Rosie on a pedestal and Ellis couldn’t even get to the bottom step. That’s why he kept asking for handouts, and Rosie agreed, because she could afford it, and she felt guilty for her success.
‘But, taking Laura – he knew that would hurt her. And you know what? The more Rosie would have objected, the more it would have pushed Laura towards him. And he knew that too. I know he didn’t hurt Rosie physically, but he was a cruel and selfish bastard and Laura was a convenient target. I should have seen what was going on.’
‘She wasn’t living at home. She kept it secret. How could you know?’
‘I was focusing so hard on “reinventing” me, and on feeling sorry for myself too. I forgot that maybe other people needed me.’
‘This wasn’t your fault,’ Judith said. ‘You need to tell yourself that over and over, till you really believe it.’
‘I drove Rosie away. After twenty years of trust. She couldn’t even bear to tell me about the blackmail. She went to him instead – Jason.’
‘She probably wanted to protect you.’
Debbie walked over to the window, placed her hand on the glass and looked out, just like the morning at Denmow prison. A cloud outside moved across the sun and the room was suddenly dark.
‘I knew it was recorded,’ Debbie said, suddenly.
‘What?’
‘My performance, my Rapunzel act. I looked out into the audience, part way through and I could see this young girl with her phone in her hand, pointing it at me. She didn’t keep it secret. I thought about it afterwards, that night, lying in bed with Rosie next to me. I know what I said to you about being embarrassed, horribly embarrassed, and it was all true, but part of me was waiting for that moment, to see that film played back sometime. I wanted Rosie to see it and to understand.’
‘Jason said…’
‘I’m sure Rosie understood,’ Judith cut across Constance and Constance closed her mouth tight.
‘Can I ask a question?’ Constance began, Judith frowning at her to rein her in.
‘As long as I don’t have to answer it.’
‘I just wondered why Laura stopped playing football. Was it really her knee?’
‘Poor Rosie. Her kids were all messed up; her daughter wanted to be a professional footballer and her son wanted to be on the stage. She would have been OK if it had been the other way around. She blamed me, of course, said I had “poisoned genes”. She didn’t mean it. Words were the only thing she could fight me with, in the end. But Laura heard us arguing about it and, after that, her knee injury was suddenly too bad for her to play again. I think she felt that if she gave in to Rosie, went off and had a sensible career, then Ben had more chance of getting his dream.’
‘How’s Laura’s knee now?’
‘I haven’t asked recently, but she joined us, me and the Mail reporter, when we had the knock-around in the park. I’m hoping she’ll have another go, but no pressure from me. Now I have a question for you.’ Debbie stared at Judith.
‘Oh.’
‘Where did you get the vegetarian stuff from?’
‘You mean about Rosie? It was in an article I read; Grazia I think.’
‘She told people she was vegetarian because that was what they wanted to hear, but she had lapses, lots of them. She liked Italian food too much – one dish especially.’
‘I think I can guess what that might have been,’ Judith replied.
Debbie smiled for the first time and then moved towards the door.
‘He called me, you know?’ She paused with her head tipped to the side and her chin raised, the same pose she had held at the end of her Rapunzel performance.
‘Who?’ Constance asked.
‘You mean Mr X, don’t you?’ Judith said.
‘Yes. Mr X. Eddie. That’s his name. Said he was sorry. Said he had watched all the trial and always voted for me in the polls. Asked if we could meet up.’
‘What did you say?’
‘I told him to piss off, that’s what!’ Debbie roared with laughter and Judith and Constance followed suit.
‘Goodbye,’ Debbie said, once she had stopped laughing, extending a hand to each of them in turn. Constance looked out through the front window and thought she saw the curtain opposite twitching. ‘I do appreciate what you did,’ Debbie said. ‘I think what I appreciate most is that you both believed in me, when I wasn’t even sure if I did.’
Constance and Judith both nodded and smiled, as it was easier than more words, and Constance leaned forward and hugged Debbie tight.
Then they chorused ‘goodbye’, in unison, as they exited the house and headed off, shoulder to shoulder, along the road.
THE END