by Louise Hall
“It’s OK,” Cate smiled. She hadn’t met any of their neighbours yet. “Hi, I’m Cate.”
“Layla,” the young woman held out her hand. “It’s nice to meet you.” She gestured to the red-haired boy stood by the nets, “that’s Luke.” He looked about the same age as Lola. Cate thought that Layla looked young to have a child that age but then she’d had Lola when she was only nineteen so…
“Mats, don’t eat that,” Cate realised her son was about to put a handful of grass in his mouth. She scooped him up on to her lap. “Sorry.”
“It’s OK,” Layla shrugged, “it’s nice that there are other children in the neighbourhood. Sometimes, it can feel a bit like a ghost town.”
“Layla,” Luke protested. “You said you were going to help me…?”
“We’ll let you get back to your football,” Cate paused, “sorry, soccer?” She was still getting used to the lingo.
Lola came out onto the porch, “Mum?”
“Layla, this is my daughter, Lola,” Cate introduced them but Lola already had her eye on the football. Luke was practicing his shooting.
“He’s getting underneath the ball,” Lola remarked, “that’s why it keeps going high.”
Layla raised her eyebrows, “you like soccer… um, football?”
Lola grinned, “I love it.”
“Why don’t you go and show Luke how it’s done?” Layla suggested. “I’m supposed to be coaching him but honestly I’m hopeless.”
While Lola ran across the grass to play with Luke, Cate picked Mateo up. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“That would be lovely,” Layla fanned the hem of her olive-green vest. “It’s so hot out there today.” She followed Cate into the kitchen. Cate sat Mateo down on the counter while she retrieved a large pitcher from the fridge. She poured the homemade lemonade into two tumblers filled with ice and handed one to Layla.
“Mm, that tastes so good,” Layla praised.
They took their drinks back to the shaded porch, where they sat watching Lola and Luke take turns trying to score goals.
Layla spotted the romance novel Cate had left by the side of the porch swing. “Ooh, I haven’t read that one yet, is it any good?”
“So good,” Cate admitted. “Have you read the others in the series?”
The conversation flowed freely as they chatted about books. Cate was delighted to find that she and Layla had similar tastes and shared a lot of the same favourite authors. “I love those books,” Layla said excitedly when Cate mentioned a series of books which had started online as fan fiction. “I actually met the author at a signing at Elliott Bay a couple of months ago.”
“What was she like?” Cate asked eagerly. They both followed the author on Facebook.
“She was so sweet,” Layla grinned. “Did you hear that she’s bringing out another book just before Christmas, from his point of view this time?”
“Wow,” Cate said, making a mental note to add it to her Amazon Wish List asap.
“How long have you and your son lived here?” Cate asked Layla.
“Oh no, I’m not Luke’s mother,” Layla giggled. “I’m his nanny.”
“Oh,” Cate blushed, feeling foolish. She looked at the houses next to theirs. The owners might well have been ghosts for how often she saw them. She thought she’d found a potential friend with Layla.
“It’s OK,” Layla said softly. “Allison, that’s Luke’s mom, she’s head of cardio-thoracic surgery at Seattle Central so you probably haven’t seen her much, if at all.”
A tall, blonde-haired man with a neatly clipped beard waved from the other porch. Layla waved back, “that’s Eric, Luke’s dad. He’s an OB-GYN. Come over, I’ll introduce you.”
Cate was tempted but then Mateo started fussing, he was tired and cranky. “Another time maybe? I’d better put this little one down for his nap.”
“Okay,” Layla shrugged, “I’ll send you an invite for that Facebook group.”
Lola was giddy with excitement as they made dinner that night; Luke went to the same school she would be attending in the autumn. “Luke’s going to a football camp this summer. It’s being held at the Lynx Sports Complex, which is only a couple of miles from here. It’s for boys and girls and it’s being run by Alex and Mia Sorrenti.”
Kian knew Alex; he’d played for Everton in the Premier League for a couple of seasons before returning home to the MLS. The strikers at Manchester Rovers hadn’t liked playing against him because he wasn’t just big and strong; he was intelligent and could play the ball out of defence instead of just kicking it long and hard.
In the few interactions that they’d had off the pitch, Alex had seemed like a normal bloke who just happened to be a professional footballer. While playing for Everton, he’d lived a quiet, unassuming life just outside Southport and had been studying online for a degree in Sports Science. There definitely weren’t any whisperings of scandal surrounding him. He was very open about his Christian faith and was devoted to his wife and family. His wife, Mia, was also an ex-player, who’d represented the USA at the Olympics.
“Luke said that he thinks there might still be places open? Could I go, Dad? Please.”
Kian looked across at Cate. It was as much her decision as it was his – if Lola got a place at the camp, it would be Cate who would have to drive her there and back most days.
Lola looked pleadingly at Cate, “it won’t be too much trouble, I promise. Luke’s already going so I could get a lift with him and Layla.”
Cate shrugged her shoulders, “I don’t mind.”
“I’m not promising anything, sweetheart,” Kian ruffled her hair, “but I’ll see what I can do.”
“Do you want to watch a movie?” Kian asked Cate. He’d just finished putting the dishes away when she came downstairs later that evening after putting the children to bed.
“Sounds good,” Cate nodded. “I’m just going to charge up my phone. Why don’t you pick something?”
As she plugged her phone into the mains, it beeped that she’d got a text. Cate leaned back on the kitchen counter and clicked the little envelope. It was from her brother, Ben. He wanted Cate to call him straight away. Her heart sank through the ground. Was somebody hurt? Her hands were shaking as she dialled his number.
“Hi, it’s me,” Cate said quickly before Ben could say anything. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t want you to worry,” Ben hesitated, “but Jimmy got hit by a car yesterday afternoon.”
“Oh no,” Cate gasped, “is he OK?” She crossed her fingers. She already felt wretched for leaving him back home in Manchester.
“He’s at the vets; he’s got to have surgery on his leg.” Cate felt big fat tears plop down her cheeks.
“What’s wrong?” Kian asked. Cate shook her head. Kian took the phone from Cate and got the details from Ben. “Hey,” he said softly after he’d ended the call. He touched Cate’s shoulder. “He’s going to be OK, angel.”
“We shouldn’t have left him,” Cate paced back and forth. She felt so guilty.
“How are we going to tell Lo?” Lola loved Jimmy fiercely; she Skyped with him at least three times a week. Kian had bought the puppy for her fourth birthday.
Kian took a deep breath, “we’ll tell her tomorrow after he’s had surgery. We’ll know more then.”
Cate braced herself on the kitchen counter, “we’re like those awful dog owners that you see on the adverts at Christmastime who just abandon their dogs.”
Kian gathered Cate up in his arms, “we didn’t abandon Jimmy; he’s with Ben and Erin and they dote on him, you know they do.”
“Not enough,” Cate protested, “if they had, he wouldn’t have run out into the road.”
Even though it was a warm night, she couldn’t stop shaking. “If we’d been there, it wouldn’t have happened.”
Kian shook his head, “you can’t think like that, it was an accident. He’s going to be OK.”
CHAPTER 9
The af
ternoon of her first Seattle F.C. home game, Cate changed her outfit at least a hundred times. She’d thought that she could just sit in the regular seats with Mateo like she’d done countless times at Manchester Rovers but Kian wanted her to meet some of the other Seattle F.C. wives and girlfriends. Apart from Layla, Cate didn’t know anybody else in Seattle yet and Kian thought that it would be good for her to have that support system. The WAGS had their own private box at the stadium and there was a crèche for the younger children. Lola wasn’t going; she was having a sleepover at Luke’s instead.
“Ugh,” she cried in frustration as she looked at herself in the mirror. Yesterday, when she’d grilled him for information, Kian had just said that the other WAGS tended to dress fairly casual.
“Like jeans and a t-shirt casual?” Cate asked.
Kian shrugged, “I guess.”
“I need more than just I guess.”
“Angel,” Kian looked up at her. “I don’t know. I see them for like a couple of minutes after the game. Just wear whatever makes you feel comfortable.”
“Ha,” Cate scoffed. “I really don’t think you want me turning up to your game in a baggy t-shirt and sweatpants.”
Kian tugged her on to his lap. “You could wear a bin-bag and still look gorgeous.”
The trouble was that she had no idea if her version of “fairly casual” would match up with theirs? It was her first time meeting all of them and she didn’t want to draw attention to herself by not being dressed appropriately.
Cate reached for her favourite pair of dark-blue skinny jeans but when she tried to fasten them, the zip refused to budge. “It might be sweatpants after all,” she kicked her once-favourite jeans across the floor in disgust.
In the last few weeks, her belly had really started to grow and it didn’t matter what she tried on, she still looked fat. She’d been so busy making sure that Lola and Mateo were settled here in Seattle and reconnecting with her husband again that she hadn’t had chance to go shopping for some maternity clothes. The ones she’d worn when she was pregnant with Lola and Mateo were still in storage back in Manchester.
Cate glanced at her watch. If she didn’t hurry up, she was going to be late and the only thing worse than being the frumpiest WAG was being the frumpiest WAG and late.
She grabbed a pair of black leggings from the top drawer and settled the waistband just underneath her bump. “Yeah, right,” Cate laughed sarcastically when she saw her reflection in the mirror - her smooth bump protruding over the top of her leggings. “You could wear a bin-bag and still look gorgeous.”
She teamed the black leggings with a black, jersey dress with purple zig-zags on it – if she was going to feel hideously out of place, at least she would be wearing something comfortable - black ballet pumps and a dark-blue denim jacket. She didn’t have time to braid her inky-black hair so she pinned it up in what she hoped was an artfully messy top-knot.
After she’d settled Mateo in the crèche, she followed one of the stadium staff upstairs to the WAGS private box. “Enjoy the game, Mrs Warner.”
“Thank you.”
Cate touched her wedding ring, trying to gain some comfort and reassurance from the weight of it on her finger. She kept telling herself that she didn’t need to impress anybody; she was Kian’s wife. He’d always known that she wasn’t going to be a stereotypical WAG.
“Hi,” she was immediately accosted by a woman with a jet-black, asymmetric bob and the highest heels Cate had ever seen. “I’m Natalie; it’s so good to meet you.”
“Um, thanks?” As much as she appreciated the welcome, Cate couldn’t take her eyes off Natalie’s boobs, they were almost bursting out of her low-cut top.
“Let me get you a glass of champagne,” Natalie steered her across to one of the side tables, which was laden down with champagne bottles.
“I, um…” Cate gestured towards her bump.
“Cate,” a friendly-looking blonde linked her arm through Cate’s. “Come with me, I’ve saved you a seat.”
As she guided Cate across the room, past the table where Natalie had re-joined her friends, the blonde introduced herself, “I’m Lena, Trent Adams’ fiancée.”
Cate recognised the name, “right, I think I met Trent when I first moved here.”
“Yeah?” Lena stopped for a second, looking a little suspicious, “where was that?”
“You know the Taco Shack? Kian took us there for a meal on our first night in Seattle. It was just a brief hello so I might have mistaken Trent for somebody else; I was so jet-lagged.”
Lena’s face brightened, “no, you’re right. That would have been him. We love the Taco Shack; they do the absolute best fish tacos.”
“So I’ve heard,” Cate relaxed a little.
“Come on,” Lena tugged her forward, “let me introduce you to everybody.”
As they approached the other table, the women who were already sat there looked up. Cate lost her breath for a second; they were all so beautiful and glamorous. And the prize for the frumpiest WAG at Seattle F.C. goes to… Cate could feel their eyes burning into her as she took her seat at the table.
“This is Cate,” Lena sat down beside her, “she’s Kian Warner’s wife.”
There was an audible sigh of relief from the other women at the table on hearing the word “wife.”
“I’m Nevaeh Edwards,” the black woman to her left held out her hand, “I’m Devon Edwards’ wife.” She had poker-straight, blonde hair which reached almost down to her impossibly small waist and the most beautiful brown eyes.
“It’s nice to meet you,” Cate smiled.
“Your accent is so cute,” Nevaeh giggled, “would you like some champagne?”
“Um, I can’t,” Cate shook her head. “I’m pregnant.”
There was a sudden burst of raucous laughter from Natalie’s table and Cate jumped.
“Don’t worry about them,” Lena sniffed dismissively. “They’re just the current flavours of the month.”
Cate was still confused so Nevaeh tried to explain. “All of the fabulous ladies at this table are either married or engaged to one of the Seattle F.C. first team players. Let’s show Cate our bling, ladies.”
Nevaeh giggled as the other women at the table all raised their left hands in the air, almost blinding Cate with the outrageously large diamonds on their wedding and engagement rings.
“So you don’t talk to the women at the other table at all?” Cate asked. She felt bad because Natalie had been the first of the WAGS to welcome her.
“Please, they’re just girlfriends,” Nicole frowned as if being “just a girlfriend” was on a par with pond scum. “I’m a very busy woman. What’s the point of making the effort to get to know somebody if there’s a good chance I’m never going to see them again. I’m like bitch, get a ring on that finger and then we’ll talk.”
“Amen to that, sister,” Nevaeh raised her glass of champagne.
“I can’t believe you’re nearly six months,” Kelsey, one of the other WAGS cooed. She had reddish-blonde hair and cute freckles on her nose. “Your bump is so tiny.”
Cate laughed. She couldn’t possibly be serious?
“A friend of mine had a really small bump when she was pregnant,” Cynthia interrupted. “The baby was really malnourished and almost died.” The words dripped from her surgically-enhanced lips like poison.
There was a collective gasp from the other WAGS. Cate felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes and cradled her bump protectively. She had to remind herself that she was roughly the same size she’d been when she was this pregnant with Lola and Mateo and they were both perfectly healthy.
As Cynthia stalked away from the table, Nevaeh put her hand on Cate’s forearm. “Don’t listen to her, OK, sweetie. She’s just talking shit because she’s jealous.” Nevaeh’s manicured fingernails lightly scratched Cate’s skin. “Somebody isn’t the Queen WAG anymore.”
“Cynthia’s husband, DeMarcus, captained the USA team at the last World Cup,” L
ena explained. Cate nodded. She remembered that it had been big news even back home in England because it was the first time the USA had made it past the group stages of the tournament for a really long time.
“He was born and raised in Seattle and the people here are really proud of him. When one of their own reaches the very top, everybody wants to share in that success. In the aftermath of the World Cup, DeMarcus was absolutely raking in the endorsement deals. Seriously, his name and face were on every-freaking-thing in the grocery store.”
“OK,” Cate nodded. Although she didn’t understand what that had to do with her?
“And then your husband signed for Seattle F.C.,” Nevaeh whispered. “Marcus might have been loved here in Seattle but he couldn’t compete with a guy who’d played in the Premier League and Champions League.”
“I can’t find you on Instagram,” Kelsey looked up from her phone.
“I’m not on Instagram,” Cate shrugged. The only social media account she had was a private Facebook account reserved for her close friends and family back home.
Kelsey gasped, “you’re not on Instagram?”
Cate hadn’t realised that it was that big of a deal.
“Is your husband on it?” Nicole asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Oh my goodness,” Nevaeh clasped a hand to her mouth, “you don’t check your husband’s social media accounts?”
“Um, no…I mean, I don’t need to. I trust him.” The other WAGS looked at her pityingly. They were probably thinking about Kian’s one night stand with Jenna at the World Cup. She had no doubt that they’d Googled both her and Kian as soon as it was announced that Kian had signed for Seattle F.C.
It wasn’t that she’d blithely forgotten that her husband had got drunk one night and allowed another woman to suck his cock; she definitely hadn’t. The memory of Kian’s betrayal would always be there, like a bullet lodged just underneath her skin.
It was one of the most painful experiences of her life. When she’d found out, she’d taken Lola and left him, moving back in with her mum and Liv. She’d intended divorcing him but Kian had refused to give up on their marriage. When she’d eventually forgiven him, it wasn’t because of his wealth and celebrity, it was because she’d truly believed that he was sorry for what he’d done and that he wouldn’t do it again. The trust that they’d painstakingly rebuilt was so precious to her. She wasn’t going to jeopardise that trust by snooping on him.
