by John Hickman
“Because I don’t want to,” she tells me.
“Well, I want you to,” I say sharply.
“Do you really mean that?” she asks.
I don’t answer. I just watch as she hurries away. Even though she has her back to me, I know she’s crying.
I want to call her back to say sorry.
But I don’t.
Instead, I punch the wall with my fist.
Tough Love
The next day, me and Mum sit with Granddad in the hospital. For the first time in ages, he’s not just sleeping all day and he’s able to talk. Sort of. It’s difficult for him, with his breathing.
“So...” he says. “How has everyone been?” His voice is all rough and croaky.
“Oh, you know,” says Mum. She looks over at me, and I feel really guilty.
“Have you been behaving?” he asks me.
I don’t answer.
“He has just been worried about you,” says Mum.
“About me?” asks Granddad. “I’m fit as a fiddle.” Then he coughs – a loud, nasty cough.
Mum jumps up out of her chair. “Are you OK?” she asks. “Anything I can do?”
“I’m fine,” he says. “Can you give us a minute?” he asks. “Me and the boy.”
She kisses him on the cheek, smiles at me and leaves the room.
Granddad waits for the door to close, before he says anything. “Your mum told me,” he says. “What you did.”
“What have I done?” I ask.
“Giving up the football,” he says.
I don’t answer.
“What have you done that for?” he asks.
I just look down at my feet.
“I can’t understand it,” he says. “After all that hard work?”
“What’s the point?” I ask him.
“How do you mean?”
“I’m never going to get anywhere, am I?” I tell him.
“What makes you think that?”
I don’t answer.
“You’re a big idiot,” he says. “Of course you will. I wouldn’t have spoken to Arthur, the United scout, if I didn’t think you were good.”
My heart stops a moment. I think back to where it all started – playing football with Wheeler in the park. I remember Arthur, this old man, standing there, with his little dog, watching us. I think about him giving me his card, telling me he was a scout. I didn’t believe him. Then I think about Granddad taking me to my trial, being there with me all the way. My lucky break with United is all thanks to Granddad.
“So it was you who phoned Arthur?” I ask.
“I did,” Granddad says. “Because I believe in you… I know you can make it.”
I feel even worse now.
“But even if you don’t make the first team,” Granddad says. “I’m so proud of you. The lad you are... the man you will be. I couldn’t be any prouder if I tried.”
I feel like I might cry.
“I know you struggle to talk about things. You get that from me,” he says. “But you need to stop bottling things up. It will do you no good.”
Now I really feel like crying, but I keep the tears inside me. “How can I make it, if you’re not there?” I ask.
“Come here, you big lump,” he says. “Give us a hug.”
I go over, hug him.
“You’ve done it all on your own,” he says. “All I did was give you a shove. I want you to promise me... promise me, that whatever happens, you will never give up on your dream... OK?”
I nod my head.
“Say it,” he tells me. “Promise me.”
“I promise.”
* * *
The next day, I’m in my bedroom, playing football on my games console, when I hear something. It sounds like someone crying. I pause the game and walk out of my room. As I walk along the hallway, the sound gets louder.
In the living room, Mum is crying. Her phone is on the floor.
“What is it, Mum?” I whisper.
She stares up at me and shakes her head. “It’s your granddad,” she says. “He couldn’t fight the pneumonia any more.”
My legs go weak. I sit down on the arm of Granddad’s chair and I just feel numb. I want to speak, say something, but I don’t. I can’t. It’s like my breath and my voice have been stolen from me.
The Funeral
A week or so later, I’m in the church, sitting at the front with Mum and Lauren. I know Lauren is still really mad at me, but she agreed to come when Mum asked her. I am so glad she’s here. It makes me feel better having her around. I just hope she will forgive me for being so mean.
I’ve never been to a funeral before. It is horrible. Everyone is so quiet and sad, whispering to each other. All Granddad’s mates from the pub and the taxi firm are here, people I haven’t seen in years. When the vicar talks, all I want to do is laugh or scream, but I don’t.
Afterwards, we stand outside the church, and people come up and tell us they’re sorry, and what a great bloke my granddad was.
Liam comes over, dressed in a dark suit. He looks strange not wearing his tracksuit, and I almost don’t recognise him.
“I’m really sorry,” he says to my mum. “Sorry to hear about your granddad,” he tells me.
I nod. “Cheers.”
“The lads all send their best,” he says. “The place hasn’t been the same without you.”
I think about United, the lads. I feel gutted for what I’ve done, what I’ve given up.
“Take care, both of you,” he says. He walks away.
The words Granddad said to me the last time I spoke with him fill my head.
“Wait,” I say. “Wait a minute.”
He stops, turns back.
“Sorry for quitting,” I tell him. “I didn’t mean it. I want to come back.”
“Can I?” I ask him. “Can I come back?”
He looks at Mum and smiles. “Of course you can. Whenever you’re ready.”
“I’m ready now,” I tell him.
“There’s no rush,” he says.
“I’m ready,” I repeat. “I’m not quitting again,” I tell him. “I’m never quitting again.”
“Don’t,” he says. “No matter what.” He winks at me, nods at Mum and Lauren and walks off.
Mum gives me a hug, and kiss on the head. “You’ve been so brave,” she says.
“I haven’t,” I tell her. “I have been a total idiot. Sorry Lauren. Sorry for what I said. I was out of order.”
Even at a funeral she looks great, in her black dress with these little lacy bits. She gives me this smile, like she’s really sad. And I can’t help thinking that this is it, we are over and she’s only here at the funeral because she’s a good person.
I feel a pain worse than when her ex thumped me in the guts. I’ve blown it, I know I have. I’m such an idiot.
Kicking On
A few days later, I rock up at the academy ground and walk over to the pitch where the lads are training. I watch them, as they play a game we call tennis, knocking the ball to each other, keeping it in the air with their feet and heads.
Ryan and Ollie jog over when they see me. “How are you doing?” asks Ollie.
“I’m alright,” I tell him. “Better than I was.”
“Sorry about your Granddad,” says Ryan. “He was a sound geezer.”
“Yeah,” I say, remembering the first time I trained with the team and how Ryan called my granddad a freak.
“When are you coming back?” asks Ryan.
“Now,” I tell him.
They look at one another, like that is a bad idea.
“Have you spoken with Liam?” asks Ollie.
“Not yet,” I tell him. Then I call out, “Liam, you got a minute?”
* * *
Liam and I watch the lads from the sidelines as Darren, Liam’s assistant, supervises a game of five-a-side.
“It might be a bit early,” he says. “With everything that has happened.”
“I just need to
get back out there and get on with things,” I tell him.
He stares at me, but doesn’t say anything.
“It’s what my granddad would have wanted,” I tell him.
“Probably,” he says. “It’s just, I’ve seen what happens when you get on the pitch and your head isn’t in the game. It doesn’t usually end well, does it?”
“No.”
“It’s not like you can play a match for a while at any rate,” he says. “You are serving a five-game ban.”
“Five games?!”
“You should count yourself lucky,” he says. “The FA wanted a ten-game ban.”
“Really?” I ask.
“Really,” he tells me. “You head-butted a player.”
“I’m sorry,” I say.
“It’s done now,” he says. “Just don’t ever do it again. I spoke with Paul too – a real shame what happened.”
“Yeah,” I say and I feel gutted about the whole thing.
“There will be other agents though,” he tells me, and I feel a bit better.
“I was thinking,” I tell him. “About what you said, about that counsellor.”
“Oh yeah?” he says.
“Do you think it could help?” I ask.
“Well, I’m not an expert,” says Liam, “but it can’t be a bad idea to talk to someone who understands all this. It definitely helps me when I talk - can’t shut me up in fact. Why don’t you have a session or two, see how it goes?”
“OK,” I tell him. “Sign me up or whatever.”
He smiles. “I’ll sign you up. And in future, if there is anything, anything at all the matter, you come to talk to me.”
I nod and smile.
“I mean it,” he says. “If you need anything, my door is always open.”
“Actually, Liam,” I say. “There is one thing.”
Hallowed Turf
A few days later, Lauren, Mum and I walk down the tunnel and out onto United’s pitch. Even though the stadium is empty, it still feels amazing to be here. On the pitch where so many of my favourite players have played. It gives me a proper buzz and goosebumps all down my neck and arms.
The three of us walk towards the goals at the Clock End. This is the end where all the hardcore fans sit, the end opposition teams hate to face. It’s where Granddad used to sit, back when he had a season ticket. Before he got too sick to come to games.
“Do you want to do it?” asks Mum.
I stare at the goal line, think about all the games Granddad and I watched together. All the goals that crossed this line. “Yeah,” I say.
Mum hands me an urn. We got it especially for him, in United’s colours.
“What should I do?” I ask.
“Just pour it out, I guess,” she tells me.
I unscrew the lid of the urn and tip Granddad’s ashes gently along the goal line. I watch as the grey powder hits the grass and paint, and think how much Granddad would have loved this – bringing good luck to United strikers and stopping all the opposition’s goals.
Once I’m done, I screw the lid up.
“He would have loved this, wouldn’t he?” says Lauren.
“He would,” I tell her.
She takes my hand and squeezes it tight, like she might have forgiven me for being horrible to her.
“Imagine how he will feel when you run out for real,” says Mum. “When you’re playing for the first team.”
I turn slowly around looking at the huge stadium. It’s amazing. I can’t wait until I walk out with the first team, just like Mum says.
“Granddad would be proud of you no matter what,” says Mum.
I smile and nod and I think I might cry, but I quickly stop myself. Then I think about what Granddad said, about how I bottle everything up all the time.
A tear runs down my cheek and I cry. Just a little bit.
“Come here,” says Mum and she hugs me.
Bonus Bits!
Guess Who?
Each piece of information below is about one of the characters in the story. Can you match them up? You can check your answers at the end of this section.
1 Jackson Law
2 Lauren
3 Granddad
4 Paul Logan
5 Jesse Walters
6 Carol (Mum)
7 Ryan
8 Ollie
9 Liam
A Has a skinhead haircut
B represents Jesse Walters
C his Granddad is poorly
D always has the latest hairstyle
E has a nose stud
F scored two goals in his debut
G tells Jackson he took a chance on him
H spoke to Arthur the United scout
I has a blotchy face and neck when nervous
“BOTTLING THINGS UP”
This is a common saying: when a person “bottles things up” it means that they refuse to talk about things that make them worried, upset or angry.
They keep the worries inside them. This can often make the worries seem worse than they are, because the person doesn’t talk to someone else about them and doesn’t get perspective (another point of view) on the problem.
Another popular saying is “a problem shared is a problem halved”. This means that if you talk about a problem with someone else it can seem much less troubling or scary. Often you can find a solution or way forward.
Jackson, in this story, needs to learn to talk about his problems, and asks for counselling to talk about his problems rather than just getting angry inside.
ISSUES
This book deals with a very difficult issue that all of us, at some point, have to face – the death of someone close to us.
This is certainly a time when it is important to talk about your feelings with someone. This can often be done with family and friends but you might want to talk to someone independent to get a sense of what is happening to you emotionally.
Here are some useful websites/contacts:
Childline
Childline is a free, 24-hour counselling service for everyone under 18. Childline says, “You can talk to us about anything. No problem is too big or too small. We’re on the phone and online. However you choose to contact us, you’re in control. It’s free, confidential and you don’t have to give your name if you don’t want to.”
www.childline.org.uk / 0800 1111
Child Bereavement UK
“If someone important to you has just died, or you have just found they are very seriously ill, you are not alone and you can get help and support.”
https://childbereavementuk.org/young-people/ 0800 02 888 40
WHAT NEXT?
Have a think about these questions after reading this story:
• How do you deal with worries that you have? Do you bottle them up or share them with your friends or family?
• Why is it important not to quit when you are finding things hard?
ANSWERS to GUESS WHO?
1C, 2E, 3H, 4B, 5F, 6I, 7A, 8D, 9G
Look out for more of Jackson’s adventures!
BLOOMSBURY EDUCATION
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First published in Great Britain in 2018
This electronic edition published in 2018
Text copyright © John Hickman, 2018
Illustrations copyright © Neil Evans, 2018
John Hickman and Neil Evans have asserted their rights under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as Author and Illustrator of this work
Bloomsbury Publishing Plc does not have any control over, or responsibility for, any third-party websites referred to or in this book. All internet addresses given in this book were correct at the time of going to press. The author and publisher regret any inconvenience caused if addresses have changed or sites have ceased to exist, but can accept no responsibility fo
r any such changes.
This is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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ISBN: PB: 978-1-4729-4423-8; ePDF: 978-1-4729-4424-5; ePub: 978-1-4729-4421-4
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