When everyone had settled down, Hannah continued. “Now, without thinking too much about it, tell that person three things about yourself they couldn’t possibly know.”
“My favourite food is cornflake tart and custard, I am learning Punjabi and I love Fernando Torres,” I gabbled.
“My favourite colour is blue, I am allergic to strawberries and I … um … am really lame at things like this!” Gemma gabbled back.
“Now swap with the person on your left!” Hannah ordered. “And tell them three different things.”
I got Holly this time. Then Daisy the time after and Nika the time after that.
My head was spinning when Hannah finally called us to stop. “Now choose one thing you’ve learned about a team-mate that surprised you the most and share it with the rest of us.”
I was really pleased when Gemma picked mine. She said she thought it was funny that I liked cornflake tart and custard with me being from India. “But I’m not from India,” I told her, “I’m from Mowborough!”
People smiled at that – but the one that made everyone crack up was Dylan revealing that Eve loves trumping in the bath.
“Why am I not surprised?” Hannah laughed. “OK, are you all sitting next to someone different?”
More swapping and clambering. I turned to see JJ’s face, long and solemn, looking back at me. Great.
16
“Now this time we’re moving into Halloween territory,” Hannah said. “I want you to tell the person next to you the one thing that scares you. Really, really scares you.”
My heart stopped. Of all the things to ask us to do. I looked at JJ, waiting for her to go first – but I realized there was no point because JJ isn’t scared of anything. “I’m scared of rats,” I said, and instantly felt guilty for lying, but I wasn’t going to confess my fear in front of her. If I couldn’t tell Hannah or Dad I certainly couldn’t tell Jenny-Jane Bayliss.
“Why?” she asked.
“Because they’re dirty.”
“Yeah,” JJ said, “a lot of people think that. My mam hates ’em.”
“Mmm,” I said.
I was expecting an awkward pause, so it was a surprise when JJ lowered her eyes and mumbled something.
“Sorry. What?” I said, leaning closer.
“School. I’m scared of school,” she muttered.
“School?” I repeated.
“Yeah. School. What? Are you deaf?”
“Sorry. Er … what scares you about it?”
Her hand tightened round the glass bowl. “Everything,” she admitted. “The way everybody looks at you when you walk in. The noise. The smell. Teachers. Kids. Assemblies. Dinner times. Everything.”
“Wow! That’s a long list! How do you get through the day?”
I genuinely wanted to know. I loved school and couldn’t imagine being scared of any of those things. I even quite liked Miss Parkinson, our old Year-Three teacher who nobody else could stand.
JJ glanced up at me quickly, then went back to staring into the bowl. “I don’t know how I’ll get through the day. It’s my first one on Monday.”
“Is it? What have you been doing since September, then?”
She shrugged. “Going somewhere else.”
“Oh,” I said, a bit confused, but I didn’t like to ask what she meant. All I knew was that this was the longest conversation I’d ever had with her.
“Monday’s at your gaff,” she whispered.
“My gaff? You mean Mowborough Primary?” My voice came out in a high squeak, I was so taken aback.
She flinched. “All right – don’t faint.”
A minute ago I might have done. JJ wasn’t exactly my favourite person in the world, but seeing her so uncomfortable made me want to help her. “But you’ll be fine – you’ll be in Mrs Keogh’s class with me and Megan and Petra,” I told her.
Instead of being reassured like I thought she would be, especially as she got on well with Megan, JJ began to shake. “That makes it worse.”
“Why?”
“It just does. I’d rather not know anyone than have you three gawping at me when I walk in.”
I knew she was anxious. Even in the dim light, her face was tight and closed off, as if her Queenies were preparing for take-off.
“We … we would have gawped if you’d just walked in, but now we know you’re coming, we’ll…” I paused, wondering what to say next. “What should we do?” I asked her.
She shrugged. “Ignore me. Or at least don’t make a big deal out of it.”
“OK,” I said, “I understand.”
“You can talk to me at break.”
“OK.”
“But not during lessons.”
“OK…” I stopped, suddenly conscious that everything around us had gone quiet. They must have finished their exchanges yonks before us.
“That was a long one!” Daisy exclaimed. “You must be scared of loads of things.”
JJ stiffened.
“Yeah,” I said quickly, “I am a bit of a wimp.”
“Do you want to start then, ‘wimp’?” Hannah joked.
“No,” I said, not quite ready and guessing JJ wasn’t either. “Can you ask someone else first?”
Hannah didn’t miss a beat. “Sure. Who wants to start?”
“Let me,” Amy volunteered. She began to reel off a list on the fingers of her white gloves. “Carrots with knobbly bits that look like warts – they’re freaky. Being stuck in a lift. That’s happened to me twice now and it’s beyond gross, especially when you’re surrounded by strangers with bad breath. Next come spiders and snakes, obviously…”
Spiders and snakes featured a lot. Petra, Gemma, Lucy and even Katie listed spiders. Megan’s was dogs, because she’d been bitten by one; Holly’s was walking past a certain house in her village where there’d once been a murder; Eve’s was crossing over motorway bridges. “I keep thinking the bridge will collapse…”
“School,” JJ announced quickly when it came round to us.
People laughed and agreed, but nobody asked her why.
“Tabs?” Hannah prompted, moving straight on to me.
“I’m scared of ra…” I began, but couldn’t quite finish the word. I tried again. “I’m scared of ra…”
“It’s OK. Take your time,” Hannah said gently.
I swallowed. Glanced round. Everyone was looking at me, sensing I was struggling, and their faces were willing me on. “I’m scared of ra…” I said again, wondering why I couldn’t just come right out and say it. I mean, it wasn’t even true.
Then, to my amazement, JJ reached over and put her hand over mine. Just for a second. Just to reassure me that it was OK; people would understand about the rats. JJ, the toughest, hardest girl on the team, was comforting me. That touch was all I needed. I took a deep breath. “I’m scared of heading the ball,” I said.
Nothing happened on the outside. I wasn’t struck by lightning. The cold fog round my ankles didn’t turn to ice. Nobody fainted and nobody sniggered. Hannah simply nodded, then moved on to the next person, just as she had for JJ.
Inside though… Inside felt spectacular. More like Bonfire night than Halloween, with fireworks bursting in all directions. And most of the Queenies were cheering and sending each other text messages, saying, “Finally! She’s only gone and done it! Put the blooming kettle on. I’ll be home in five.”
There was still one Queenie, though, in the corner of my stomach, shaking its head as if to say, “It ain’t over yet, kiddo. It ain’t over yet…”
17
When we’d finished going round, Hannah congratulated us. “That was fantastic. Telling people what scares you takes a lot of courage and trust in each other. That’s awesome. That’s teamwork.” She paused and smiled at us all. “I’m not saying it will make your fears disappear just like that,” she said and snapped her fingers. “And from that list, Tabs’ is about the only one I can help with – but getting fears out in the open is the first step…”
&nb
sp; I winced at being singled out, but Hannah did it in such a matter-of-fact way that nobody even noticed. Just accepted that that’s what she would do, as a football coach. The lone Queenie prodded me. “Now you ain’t gotta worry about the rest of ’em thinking you’re getting special treatment, right, kiddo?”
Right. I perked up. Right! But he still didn’t budge. Just leaned against the wall of my tummy and folded his wings, waiting. I squirmed in my seat as Katie took over.
“Getting things out in the open is definitely the way to go,” she said. “I remember a couple of years ago I had something I wanted to tell my mum and dad and I was really scared about how they’d react…”
I sat up, listening hard.
“…I spent months agonizing over when to tell them and what to say. I used to wake up at night in such a panic!”
That was me she was describing. Me exactly.
“Finally it just burst out of me one night. We were watching the draw for the National Lottery, and I just told them. There was a bit of a pause, and then my mum just shrugged and goes, ‘Oh, we know that, ducky! We’ve known for ages.’ And my dad went, ‘You’ve made me miss the bonus ball now!’ And that was it. End of! I’d been getting my knickers in a twist over something they already knew.”
“That you were scared of spiders?” Daisy asked.
“Something like that!” Katie grinned and turned to Hannah.
Hannah leaned forward and waved her broken wand. “Right then, m’dearies. Time for a spooky challenge…”
I jumped up, fell back down again, because of the weight of my bee costume, and stood up again with the help of JJ and Nika. “Sorry,” I said, as everybody laughed, “just remembered something. Back in a bit.”
I had a spooky challenge of my own to do.
18
“Headers?” Dad exclaimed as we stood by the winter pansies between the cafe and the gift shop. “You’re scared of headers?”
“Yes,” I said, tilting my chin, ready to challenge him if he started on about how he could fix that little problem. “I am scared of headers.”
“What are headers?” Mum asked.
Dad rolled his eyes. “Headers. Like it says on the tin. When you use your head to direct the ball.”
“I get scared,” I told her, the words flowing so easily now. “I get scared they’ll smash me in the face.”
“I’m not surprised. I would too,” Mum said, licking some ogre pus from her finger. “Why do you have to head it, anyway? Why can’t you just kick it?”
“That’s what I’ve been asking myself.” I grinned. “Can’t I just kick it? But you can’t. Not every time.”
“You’re scared of headers, though? Seriously?” Dad asked.
“Yes,” I said, “very seriously.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I knew you’d make a big deal about it and that would have made it worse.”
“A big deal? No I wouldn’t. I’d have—”
“Ali,” Mum said, with a shake of her head. “There’s a reason we have two ears and only one mouth. Listen, for once.”
“I…” Dad began, then stopped. He cleared his throat. “You’re right,” he admitted. “I would have made a fuss.”
He looked so bewildered and crestfallen, I felt sorry for him. “Hey,” I said, to cheer him up, “you never know. If I overcome my fear, I might turn into a rose.”
“You’ll never be a rose,” he said.
“Well, I won’t be a bird of paradise, if that’s what you’re thinking!” I warned.
“Why would I want you to be either?” Dad asked. “You know you are my sweet pea!”
“His favourite flower,” Mum reminded me.
I wrapped my arms round him and gave him a hug, or as much of a hug as I could manage with a fat spongy tummy. He kissed the top of my furry bonce. “My Binda. Scared of headers,” he said. “Poor baby.”
I pushed him away. “Poor baby? Urgh! That’s it! This is getting too gushy now. If you don’t mind, I am going to return to the vampires and other freaks.”
“Good idea. And while you’re there, can you ask how long you freaks will be?” Mum asked. “Only the ogre pus is looking a bit septic.”
“I don’t think we’ll be that long,” I said, with a huge beam on my face. “We’re pretty much there on the team-building thing.”
Final Whistle
I wish I could tell you that since that night I went on to score goal after goal with my awesome, diving headers. But I’m afraid not. It isn’t that easy to get over a real fear. I’m taking it slooooooooooowly.
Hannah’s helped me loads. She started by telling me that it didn’t matter one bit if I got to the end of the season without once heading the ball. I could just keep doing what I’ve been doing. And just knowing that stopped me being such a worry wart.
The first step, when I’m ready, is for someone to gently bounce a sponge ball against my forehead, and for me to nudge it away. I’m thinking of asking JJ. We could do it at lunchtimes, somewhere quiet. Or maybe Dad. He’s been so subdued by missing all signs of my headerphobia – if I gave any – that he hardly comments about my football any more. He’s stopped criticizing Hannah, too. I think he’s realized that even if she hasn’t got loads of experience or qualifications she still knocks spots off anyone else. Besides, it’s the Parrs who are still at the top of the table! And you can’t argue with that, can you.
It’s Gemma, the bird of paradise, who follows on from here, so I’ll say goodbye now. Oh, and if you’re ever near Mowborough and fancy a cup of tea and a scone, please drop by Sweet Peas Garden Centre. We’d love to see you!
Your friend,
Tabinda xxxx
The Nettie Honeyball Women’s Football League junior division
Helena Pielichaty (pronounced Pierre-li-hatty) has written numerous books for children, including Simone’s Letters, which was nominated for the Carnegie Medal, and the popular After School Club series. A long-standing Huddersfield Town supporter, there are few who could write with as much enthusiasm about girls’ football. A local girls’ under 11s team helps with the inspiration and tactical know-how, but Helena has been an avid fan of women’s football for many years. It clearly runs in the family: her aunt was in a women’s team in the 1950s and her daughter has been playing since she was ten (she is now twenty-four!). Helena lives in Nottinghamshire with her husband and has two grown-up children.
The Girls FC series
Do Goalkeepers Wear Tiaras?
Can Ponies Take Penalties?
Are All Brothers Foul?
Is An Own Goal Bad?
Who Ate All The Pies?
What’s Ukrainian For Football?
So What If I Hog The Ball?
Can’t I Just Kick It?
We’re the Dream Team, Right?
Has Anyone Seen our Striker?
Do Shinpads Come in Pink?
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or, if real, used fictitiously. All statements, activities, stunts, descriptions, information and material of any other kind contained herein are included for entertainment purposes only and should not be relied on for accuracy or replicated as they may result in injury.
First published 2010 by Walker Books Ltd
87 Vauxhall Walk, London SE11 5HJ
Text © 2010 Helena Pielichaty
Cover © 2010 Walker Books Ltd
The right of Helena Pielichaty to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted or stored in an information retrieval system in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, taping and recording, without prior written permission from the publisher.
British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data:
a catalogue record for this book is availabl
e from the British Library
ISBN 978-1-4063-4270-3 (ePub)
www.walker.co.uk
Can't I Just Kick It? Page 5
