by Tracy Bloom
The crowd quietened whilst Drew prayed way up in his little box room.
“The answer to the question, how many players have played for Manchester City is … eight thousand two hundred and fourteen.”
There was a pause as everyone tried to work out who had won. Suzie and Patrick stood glued to their spots unsure what the answer meant.
“So that means that this week, Manchester City’s Biggest Fan is … Suzie by a whisker. So sorry Patrick, but today you have been beaten by a girl.”
It was Suzie’s turn to do victory runs around the podium as Patrick looked on in horror. He stood stock still clearly in shock as a chant began to rise from the crowd.
“Beaten by a girl
Beaten by a girl
Beaten by a girl
Beaten by a girl”
He gazed wide-eyed up at the North Stand where the chant had begun. Thousands of his beloved fellow fans were pointing an accusing finger in the air and mocking him in the worst way possible. He went pale and appeared to shrivel as all the arrogance and cockiness was sucked out of him in the face of such disgrace. Suzie caught sight of him and couldn’t help but laugh out loud. The scale of Patrick’s humiliation was beyond even her wildest dreams.
“Does Manchester City’s Biggest Fan have anything she’d like to say?” asked Steve as he shoved the microphone in her grinning face.
“I certainly do,” she said as she turned to face the jeering North Stand and raised her hands in the air. “I would just like to thank this truly magnificent crowd.”
A massive cheer went up in response to her appreciation.
“What the fuck,” screamed Patrick grabbing the microphone.
“No swearing please,” interjected Steve. “There are children present.”
“I’m Manchester City’s Biggest Fan,” he roared. “There’s no way she’s a real fan.” His deathly pallor had been replaced by pure beetroot red as the shock subsided into anger. “When I went out with her she didn’t even know who Francis Lee was for Christ’s sake. She’s Rick Astley’s Biggest Fan not Man’ City’s. She used to bore me to death about him so I dumped her.”
Suzie gasped.
Drew gasped.
“So you do remember,” she breathed.
He gave her a look of complete contempt.
“Yes I do,” he replied defiantly.
Suzie couldn’t believe it. Everything he’d said upstairs was a lie and not only that he’d labelled her boring yet again in public. She’d thought beating him in front of his fellow fans would be enough to teach him a lesson but clearly she needed to go further. This wasn’t over. She hadn’t intended to go this far but he’d asked for it. She took a step forward and stabbed the club emblem proudly displayed on his chest.
“Call yourself a fan,” she hissed. “I remember what you did that summer we went out,” she said as she grabbed the microphone back off him. “Let’s share your guilty secret with everyone shall we?”
It was Patrick’s turn to gasp as the colour drained from his face for the second time that afternoon.
“Don’t you dare,” he screamed making a lunge for her. Fortunately Steve decided it was time to intervene.
“Easy boy,” he said laying a firm hand on Patrick’s shoulder. “That’s no way to behave is it?”
Suzie cleared her throat as she prepared to make an announcement.
“Nooooooooooooooo,” Patrick screeched dropping to his knees in front of her. “Don’t do it,” he begged clasping his hands together. “Anything but that, please.”
He looked pathetic. So different from the arrogant façade he’d presented earlier.
“Not here,” he whined. “You can’t say it here, I’m begging you. I’ll be crucified.”
She savoured his terrified face for a moment longer before she bent forward and whispered in his ear.
“Not nice is it?” she breathed. “Not nice being humiliated in front of the last people in the world you would want to be, is it? This is exactly how it felt when you dumped me and now it’s your turn.”
Patrick sank back and stared at her, going even whiter. She stood up and lifted the microphone to address the crowd.
“In the summer of 1988 Manchester City suffered a crushing defeat of 4-1 to Oldham Athletic leaving them languishing at the bottom of Division Two,” she announced clearly and confidently. A knowing mutter rippled around the stadium. “Patrick was at that match and as he left he made an unforgiveable decision.”
The ripple rose to a rumble.
“He decided to defect from supporting Manchester City.”
The rumble grew louder.
“Noooooo,” shouted Patrick his hands now covering his ears.
“That’s not the worst of it,” she continued. “He shunned Manchester City in their hour of need to support …” she paused for effect. “Manchester United, for five whole days,” she finished triumphantly.
The rumble grew to a roar as the stadium took on the guise of a gladiator pit. Menace oozed from every corner as Patrick’s fellow City fans booed and jeered with all their might rejecting him with all the vocal energy they could muster. His relationship with them, with football, with Manchester City was changed forever. There was no greater sin than supporting a rival team from the same city.
“Do you have anything to say for yourself,” asked Steve solemnly as he hauled Patrick to his feet to face the wrath of his fellow fans.
“I was young,” he bleated. “I thought United stood a better chance of winning something.” He hid his face in his hands unable to face the thousands and thousands of angry faces. “It was only five days,” he muttered.
When the missiles of plastic bottles and polystyrene cartons started landing on the pitch Steve realized it might be wise to conclude the half time activities.
“Let this be a lesson to you,” said Steve grimly shaking his head. “And as for you,” he turned to Suzie. “You are what this team is all about. A shining example of commitment and loyalty. Ladies and gentlemen please give it up for today’s winner of Manchester City’s Greatest Fan, the one and only Suzie Miller!”
The crowd roared their appreciation. Patrick looked on in bewilderment as Suzie strutted around the podium with all the confidence and joy he had displayed minutes earlier. He flinched as she paused right next to him and leaned over to whisper in his ear once more.
“Make the most of this moment Patrick,” she said. “I suspect it’s the last time you’ll ever be able to set foot in this stadium. Enjoy.” And with that she skipped off the podium and ran across the pitch.
As Drew watched Suzie bounce off the podium he realised he had to go and find her right now. He ran out of the commentary box and down three flights of stairs before going up another set of steps to enter the stand. He could see Suzie below him being ushered through a barrier at the side of the pitch by security staff. She was just about to disappear.
“Suzie,” he bellowed. She didn’t turn. She hadn’t heard him.
“Wait Suzie,” he shouted as he hurtled down the steps towards the pitch oblivious to the weird looks he was getting.
“Suzie,” he shouted again. She finally turned round and realising who it was, fought her way past the two security guards who were trying to get her safely through the crowd with her prize. A coveted signed shirt.
“Drew,” she screamed running up the steps towards him. “I did it, I did it.”
They met about half-way up the steps of Stand 104 and embraced, jumping up and down for joy.
“I did it,” she kept saying. She pulled away. “Did you see his face?” she asked. “He could not believe what was happening. It was brilliant Drew,” she said, tears now rolling down her face. Drew didn’t mind this time. He knew they were happy tears. She moved forward to hug him again and he hugged her right back.
He was still hugging her when he realised he wasn’t sure when to stop hugging her and indeed if he wanted to. There was something very heart-warming about having a woman crying with jo
y on your shoulder. He sprang back as if she had just caught fire.
“So,” he said needing to destroy the moment. “One last question.”
“What’s that?” she asked sniffing hard.
“Can I have the shirt?” he asked, nodding at the collector’s item clutched in her hand.
“Of course,” she cried. “I never would have got it without you.” She thrust it into his hand.
At that point a middle-aged man in the seat next to where they were standing leant over.
“You must be the luckiest man alive,” he said to Drew. “Not only does your wife like football but she gets you a signed shirt as well. Can’t even get my wife to let me have Sky Sports,” he grumbled.
“She’s not my wife,” said Drew.
“I’m not his wife,” said Suzie simultaneously.
The man looked at the two of them confused before a look of enlightenment crossed his face.
“I see,” he said slowly. “Then you’re not just lucky, you’re a lucky bastard,” he said shaking his head in awe.
“No, you don’t understand,” protested Drew. The man raised his eyebrows as if he understood perfectly.
“Come on,” said Suzie tugging at his sleeve. “We have to go and celebrate.”
“No,” he said firmly causing Suzie to jump.
“I can’t Suzie,” he continued. “I promised Emily I’d take her to The Loft tonight. I can’t turn up drunk again. Not after last time.”
The man coughed behind them.
“Of course,” she conceded. “I’ve borrowed you enough for one day. How am I ever going to repay you?”
The man coughed yet again.
Drew decided to ignore him. “You already have,” he said holding the shirt up.”
She laughed. “Well I’ll see you on Monday.” She leant forward for one last embrace. They held each other for a second too long.
“Bye,” he said when they pulled apart.
“Bye,” she said giving a small wave.
He was the first to turn away and it took all his will power to not turn back to see if she was watching him as he walked up the steps.
Chapter 11
“You should have seen him Em,” said Drew as he sat down to dinner at one of Manchester’s finest restaurants that night. “He was absolutely floored. I’ve never seen anything like it. The whole crowd was chanting at him like he had just given a penalty away in the last few minutes of the FA cup.”
“Mmmmm, that’s great,” nodded Emily whilst studying a small black notebook she had pulled out of her handbag.
“What are you looking at?” snapped Drew just a little upset that Emily was clearly only half listening. He’d gone to great pains to make sure Emily was aware of what he had been up to with Suzie to ensure there could be no misunderstanding, but she was about as interested as she ever was with anything related to football.
“Invitation wording,” she mumbled not looking up. “We still have to agree the wording for our invites.” She wrote something in her notebook.
Drew sighed. He’d been on a high ever since leaving a massively over-excited Suzie at the stadium. He wanted to share it with Emily but she was clearly having none of it.
“We don’t have to do it now do we?” he asked.
“No, of course not,” she said looking up. “I just wanted to have a quick look through our checklist for the wedding whilst we’re together. Make sure we’re on track.”
“Great, good idea” sighed Drew. Bloody hell he thought. He was after a good time not a debate on whether requesting the pleasure of someone’s company was a better way of saying come to our party. He sat quietly hoping that Emily would come to the conclusion that they were on track without his input.
“By the way,” she said looking up.
Here it comes he thought. Fruitcake or sponge?
“I’ve been asking around and I’ve managed to get hold of what is deemed in the industry to be the fairest pre-nup’ agreement. It’s in my briefcase at home. We should really sign it as soon as.” She looked down at her book again and crossed something off.
He put his drink down quickly. He hadn’t been expecting that particular pre-wedding dilemma.
“Is that really necessary?” he asked.
“What do you mean?” she said snapping her book shut and putting it back in her bag.
“Well, I wouldn’t have thought we’d need one of those, would you?”
Emily laughed. “If you gave me a pound for every couple who walked through my door and said that, I’d be a millionaire by now. No-one thinks it’s necessary Drew. I don’t think it’s necessary but I do think it’s sensible. More sensible than wasting thousands of pounds on expensive divorce lawyers like me if the worst happens. More sensible to agree what you will do in a calm, lucid manner before you get married rather than in an over-emotional, irrational way at the point when you hate each other.”
Drew looked at Emily. He knew he shouldn’t be surprised at her suggestion. She had a unique ability to be totally rational about what could be very emotional issues.
“So what does this pre-nup say then?” he asked.
“Basically we both retain any assets that we had before the marriage and split the proceeds from the house and the joint account in half. It’s very simple. Nothing to worry about.”
“But what if we have kids?” he asked.
“Joint custody. The savings account we’ve set up would be used for education and other exceptional items to be agreed upon between the two of us. I’ll show it to you later if you want. I’m sure you’ll be fine with it.” She took a large bite out of her bread roll.
He watched her chew. He watched her chew as if she had just announced that she was having the goat’s cheese as a starter. Not that she had already planned what to do with their non-existent children should their parents have written off their wedding vows. He didn’t know what to say. He continued to watch her chew methodically.
When he didn’t respond she finished eating and then reached across the table and took his hand in both of hers.
“Don’t look so worried,” she said. “I know we’ll never need it but it just seems stupid not to have one. I see too many couples behaving appallingly to each other to ever want to see that happen to us.”
“Okay,” he said weakly after a long pause.
“Shall I tell you about my dress fitting today?” she asked, rubbing his hand with vigour as if trying to shake him out of his current mode of thought.
“Yes,” he said still a little dazed but eager to grab hold of a positive aspect of their impending marriage. “Good idea,” he added attempting a smile.
She smiled back and squeezed his hand before launching into a detailed account of her discussion with the dressmaker. Soon enough he was enjoying letting Emily tease him with hints about her wedding dress and the awkwardness of the pre-nup issue slowly became a distant memory. A short-lived enjoyment as it turned out when the evening took an unexpected turn …
Drew’s features froze as he caught sight of something over Emily’s shoulder. He stared as the two figures advanced rapidly towards them before he was overwhelmed by a desire to run away and hide.
“Hey, there you are,” cried Suzie as she reached their table. A woman stumbled up behind her, clutching her shoulder as if to steady herself.
“What are you doing here?” asked Drew as he struggled to take his eyes off Suzie’s friends’ enormous boobs that were threatening to burst over the top of her lace bustier and poke him in the eye.
“Well, I was telling Jackie,” replied Suzie. “Oh, this is Jackie by the way. Sorry, I’m so rude not introducing you. Jackie this is Drew and Emily.”
“Drew, you are a legend,” said Jackie looking slightly the worse for wear. “Suzie’s told me all about what you did this afternoon and I don’t mind telling you, you are a God.”
Emily coughed and looked around her clearly concerned who might be able to overhear the conversation.
“Jackie
wanted to come and meet you,” explained Suzie. “And you said you were coming here so I thought we’d just pop in and buy you both a drink to say thank you.” Suzie was looking so pleased with herself it was hard not to smile back. “Especially you Emily for lending me Drew all afternoon,” she said giving Emily a squeeze on the shoulder.
“Er thanks,” clipped Emily. “Good to see you Suzie but we were just about to order so maybe another time eh?” she said picking up her menu and giving Drew a pointed look.
“Why don’t you come to our party,” shrieked Jackie right in Emily’s ear.
“Excuse me,” said Emily leaning so far away from Jackie it looked like she was about to fall off her chair.
“Come to our New Year’s Eve party,” she said swaying over towards Drew this time. “You can meet Dave my other half. I’ve already told him all about you Drew. You are the man,” she said stabbing her finger in Drew’s shoulder. “You are the man who told her to go and chop their penises off.” Instantly there was a hush at the surrounding tables that even Jackie sensed. She looked around and proudly pointed at Drew to ensure everyone who was staring had no doubt who she was talking about.
“I didn’t,” said Drew shaking his head vigorously at Emily and the surrounding diners. Suzie’s smile had disappeared as she realized that perhaps Jackie’s exuberant drunkenness was misplaced in the stylish and calm surroundings.
Emily stepped in to take control. “That’s a very kind invitation,” she said to Jackie slowly as though talking to a small child. “But I’m afraid we always go to my parents to bring in the New Year.”
Jackie stared back at Emily as if she hadn’t understood a word she had said.
Emily tried again.
“We always go to my parents,” she said even more slowly.
“I heard you the first time,” she said. “You don’t have to go to your parents you know. What are you? Nearly forty? Bit past being stuck in like bad teenagers aren’t you?”
Emily pulled down the hem of her smart jacket and squared her shoulders as if preparing to take down a rogue witness.
