by C F White
“Why the wait?”
“Couple of reasons. Football mainly. He’s in the England squad. That takes precedence.”
“Ah.” Will settled back in his seat, crossing his legs and draping an arm over the back looking ever the relaxed and authoritative man he’d always been even when in Seb’s home and not his own. “Is that the reason for the decorating? Refurbishing whilst the cats away? Have you chosen a colour scheme he wouldn’t approve of?”
“Oh no, we picked it out together. Neutral colours, because we won’t find out the sex of the bab—” Seb cut himself off, biting his tongue.
Will was ruffled then, and he sloped forward, eyes wide. “Baby?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“I shan’t repeat a word.” Will smiled, his dark eyes glinting. “But what I will say, if you don’t mind my prudence, is that fatherhood comes with great responsibilities. Many that I, myself, was unprepared for. Looking at you now, at you and Jay and the life you have made for yourselves, I’d say you would no doubt surpass my tragic footfalls to make a wonderful father.” He stroked down his tie, peering up to Seb through his lashes. “Were that ever to happen in the near future.”
Seb blushed at such high praise. “Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind if we ever decide to start a family.”
“Of course.” Will checked his watch, then stood. “Well, I won’t keep you any longer. Thank you for the drink. And, please, think about my offer. I’ll have Victoria send you some dates for when we can have you up to Winchester. I’m sure they’ll let you in the county. There’s been a lot of water under the bridge since then.”
That was certainly true and Seb felt that all the way to his warming core. He stood. “Are you busy? Off somewhere? A meeting? A rendezvous?” He waggled his eyebrows in suggestion.
“Not today. Much like you, Sebastian, I am a man of leisure for a change. I have waived my rendezvous invitations for quite some time now.”
Huh. Seb couldn’t seem to stop himself from throwing out the most surreal suggestion he’d ever dared utter, but he’d always hated being alone. “Fancy helping me out with the decorating?”
“I’m afraid I have no personal skills in that area,” Will’s reply was shrouded in regret. “Mostly choosing contractors for my refurbishment needs.”
“But you’ll give it a go?” Seb inclined his head. “I’ll throw in another G&T?”
“Well then, that’s an offer I certainly cannot refuse.” He shrugged out of his jacket, leaving on the waistcoat beneath but did loosen his tie. “What are we painting?”
“A nursery.”
Will’s face lit up, which made the surrealism more worthwhile. “Lead the way,” he said with an almost jovial spring.
Second Half
Play On
Rock‘n’Goals: The Drops’ Musical opens with a Bang
The Drops’ have a firm place in the top of the charts as one of the UK’s greatest indie rock ensembles. Having sold millions of albums worldwide, the trio, fronted by Sebastian Saunders, have shown their worth to the naysayers by proving they are a band with sticking power.
And that was even more evident this week when the Drops’ first musical hit London’s West End to tumultuous standing ovation, proving that, once again, whatever Sebastian Saunders turns his hand to, he can make a success of it.
Taking the Drops’ throughline concept from their debut album, Breaking Through, with a few additional songs written to fit purpose, Rock‘n’Goals is a triumphant semi-autobiographical showcase about how two opposing characters break free from the constraints of class division to discover what’s really important—love. With the significance of their journey in a society against such a union is felt all the more poignant on stage today.
This isn’t a gratuitous piece of theatre though. Whilst the story is loosely based on the relationship between front man and executive producer, Seb Saunders himself, with West Ham footballer, Jay Ruttman, the underlying theme is a tale that authorises that personal touch by hammering home a message of acceptance and tolerance using every drum beat and guitar solo that accompany each heart-breaking moment. There’s a lesson for us all in those expressively written lyrics sung exceptionally loud and poignantly proud.
The resounding success doesn’t just come from the script either, but from the explosive cast of top-notch vocalists taken from a mixture of those from the rock music scene and those from a traditional musical theatre background. The eye-catching choreography and sublimely loud backing band helps cling to the show’s two biggest moods – rage and love. Rock‘n’Goals crafts a 90-minute thrill ride through protest-punk and rock’n’roll despair, with the overarching message of love conquering all, and will leave you feeling as if nothing is impossible.
And with the latest legislation that same-sex marriage is now legalised, watch this space for the ultimate Happy Ever After to accompany the launch of this triumphant production that is sure to change the West End for good.
England Break Through: Brazil Awaits!
Ronnie Walker’s newest England team surpassed the nation’s expectations when they hammered through a 0-3 win against Ukraine during the first round of World Cup qualifiers. The squad, made up mostly of young players just out of the Academy scene and only a handful of professional games under their belt, along with the head-scratching choice of defender, Bruno Carlisle, and out front striker, Jay Ruttman, as the veterans.
England’s heavy back four dominated the game, not allowing for Ukraine’s attack to get a foot in the box through most of the ninety-minutes. With so much field to play, the lone out-front striker, Ruttman, was able to slam home goal after goal in a triumphant hattrick on his first England cap, upholding the view that the east Londoner is a force to be reckoned with, even playing in hostile territory. Not once allowing the vocal crowds to off his game, Ruttman was a pillar of strength and composure in the face of adversity.
The team won’t get too complacent though. Training will have to increase from here, with the final qualifier taking place on home soil of Wembley Stadium in a few months’ time. Only after then will we know if this is the squad that will be heading to Brazil. Ronnie Walker will no doubt want to keep to his unlikely choices now they’ve shown themselves to be a formidable force.
With the World Cup on the horizon, the squad will fly out to Brazil early to acclimatise themselves to the extra heat that none of our born and bred English players are used to. Except for veteran left winger, Bruno Carlisle, whose move to LA Galaxy might prove advantageous for playing in high temperatures. Looking at this team though, the heat of South America might the only challenging opposition for the win.
With this squad the fittest and sharpest we’ve seen in a while, along with Walker’s no distraction rule at training and games—shunning the wives and girlfriends to the terraces—could this be the year that football finally does make it home?
Chapter twelve
Clinical Finish
December 2013, five months later….
“Any problems? Concerns? Nausea?” Doctor McCormack washed her hands at the sink and dried them on a paper towel.
Ann, lying flat on the reclining seat in the private scanning room of the Pathway Fertility Centre in central London, hitched up her top to show her protruding belly. She glanced to Jay standing over her. He smiled back. Heart thumping and hands frozen, even entwined with both Ann’s and Seb’s beside him, he sucked in a breath at Ann’s next words.
Having been tied up with qualifiers, then the start of the new season at West Ham, he’d been absent during the first few months of Ann’s pregnancy—their pregnancy—and was feeling all the more anxious for it. Twenty-two weeks in and this was the scan. The main scan. The one that would put a little face up on a screen to make this all very real.
“Sickness has died down,” Ann said. “Other than that, it’s been a doddle. Better than my own ones.”
Jay lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles then glanced to Seb beside him. His anticipatory
trembling was felt in every movement, so he squeezed his hand too. Seb winked. It might have come across as brash, but Jay knew, deep inside, that he was trying to keep up appearances. Seb was as much of a gooey mess inside as he was.
“Right.” Doctor McCormack sat on her swivel chair beside the screen and shook the bottle in her hand. “Might be cold.”
Ann braced herself as the doctor squirted the ultrasound gel onto her stomach. She then lifted her scanning probe from the bulky machine and pressed the nib down on Ann’s belly. The proceeding silence was palpable. Jay focused on the part of the screen that he could see, swirly lines fading in and out of view and appearing more like a sci-fi film than where a human was currently developing. Seb gave him a reassuring smile but Jay could feel his own tension in his shoulders. He glanced down to Ann, hoping for more valid reassurance, but she lifted her head trying to see the screen herself.
Through the silence came the echoed thwump, thwump, thwump, creating a unified exhalation from all three of them.
“That’s your baby’s heartbeat,” Dr McCormack said with a smile that put Jay instantly at ease. “You can listen to that while I do the checks.”
Jay’s hands were squeezed from both sides and the combined relief flooded warmth to his fingers. They’d waited so long. They’d been patient. And it was paying off. He smiled to the point his cheekbones hurt and he leaned across to Seb. “He’s got rhythm,” he whispered.
“And kicks,” Ann said, wriggling after a louder thwump to the speakers.
“Rock‘n’goals.” Seb grinned.
Ann rolled her eyes and they all waited instruction whilst Dr McCormack twisted the screen away from their view, click clicking a mouse and tap tapping a keyboard. She was scanning every inch of the baby, ensuring healthy growth and normal development. Jay bounced on the spot, waiting for the news. Whatever it would be, he could take it. They could take it. Him and Seb.
They’d had enough practice at receiving bad news.
“Okay.” Dr McCormack twisted the screen to face them all and pointed. “Baby is perfect. There’s the head and you can make out the lips and nose. Baby is all curled up. Under there,” she swept a finger along the screen, “is the spine and linked together are the feet. Healthy. Happy. Cooking nicely.”
Jay thought he might explode and shower balls of fluff over the others. He was so damn happy. Seb sniffled into his shoulder and Jay chuckled at his emotional release. He shouldn’t mock though, because he was just as much a gooey mess as Seb was. This was everything. It meant everything. That little thing that looked nothing more than a fuzzy squelch was their everything.
Wrapping an arm around Seb, he drew him closer and kissed his temple. “You’re a daddy,” he rumbled into his ear.
“Keep that for the bedroom.” Ann held up a hand, then softened and even a tear pooled in her eye. “Least I turned out good for something, right?”
“You’re perfect,” Jay said and leant down to kiss her forehead. “Thank you.”
“Are we finding out about the sex today?” Dr McCormack threw out in wistful elevation.
“Versatile,” Seb said. “Although, I think he prefers to top.” He nudged his elbow to Jay’s side with a wink
Jay dragged his arm from around Seb and gave him a stern eyeful. “Nah,” Jay answered seriously for them both, “we want a surprise.”
Dr McCormack twisted the screen away. “Do you want a memento?”
“Please.” Jay nodded. “Can we get a few?”
“Handing them out signed to the fans, are you?”
“Not exactly. This has managed to keep out the papers so far. We’ll keep it that way for as long as possible.”
“Discretion is part of the package here.”
Ann glanced up to the doctor. “I think the world believes my husband to be the most fertile man on the planet.”
“Thank fuck that’s not true.” Seb chuckled. “Or there’d be a whole heap of half siblings dotted around the country.”
Jay, then Ann, turned unified glares on him.
Seb held up his hands. “Sorry, sorry! I was talking before he and Ann got together. Properly. When his love machine was in every—”
Jay held a finger up to Seb’s lips. “Trap shut.”
Seb mimed zipping his mouth closed then offered an apologetic look down at Ann and tapped her hand in both remorse and apology.
“Here you go.” Dr McCormack handed over a bunch of scan pictures to Jay. “All yours. We’ll next see you, Andromeda,” she wiped up the ooze from Ann’s belly, “at thirty-four weeks. Any issues in between, you have our number. But I’m sure this’ll be a breeze for you all.”
“Andromeda?” Seb furrowed his brow. “Your full name is Andromeda?”
“Yeah.” Ann cleared up the rest from her stomach.
“From Greek Mythology?”
“From Clash of the Titans?” Ann shrugged. “My dad was a big fan. But considering he didn’t stick around to see if I did pan out to be more beautiful than Aphrodite, my mum shortened it.”
“I swear they didn’t say your full name at your wedding.”
“I don’t like it. Had to use it here because of all the legal stuff.”
“I like it. It’s kinda cool. Punky.”
“It reminds me that all men are bastards.”
“And yet here you are having a baby for two of them.” Seb took the scan picture from Jay and gushed over it.
“Andromeda—always sacrificed for the monster.” Ann grabbed Jay’s arm for him to help her up.
“And we’re grateful for it,” Jay said, sliding his hands on her shoulders to steer her out of the room.
After they’d settled the monetary transactions at the reception, they made their way out to the car park on the clinic grounds.
“We’ll drop you home,” Jay said to Ann. “Then we’re away for a couple of nights. Need anything, call us.”
“Where you going?” she asked.
“Winchester,” Seb said, eyes still on the scan photograph he held an inch away from his nose.
“Country clubbing.” Jay rolled his eyes.
“Oh, how the cockney has climbed.” Ann laughed and eased into the back seat of Jay’s car.
He closed the door for her, then met Seb’s gaze over the top of the roof. Seb grinned, showing up the scan picture to him.
“It’s our Pingu!” he said, voice filled with excitement. “Our little grey fluffball.”
“I love you,” Jay replied yet thought those words weren’t quite enough for how he felt anymore.
“Back at ya, daddy.” Seb kissed the photograph.
Jay chuckled. “Get in.”
* * * *
Seb slid a hand on Jay’s thigh as they drove through the country lanes toward the land that had apparently been in his family for centuries. He watched the rolling, luscious green countryside zooming past his window and smiled. It felt bloody good to have Jay by his side again.
Since the England training camp, then jetting off to various destinations undisclosed for the qualifiers, Jay’s absence had been draining. Physically and mentally. On Jay, yes. But Seb too. Jay’s return to club football had thrust their lives into some sort of normalcy and the Jay Seb knew was coming back to him. Then the scan that morning with Ann had sealed together the torn pieces of their hearts caused by the pressures of international football and their decision not to marry. They still hadn’t set a date for the wedding, only knowing that it would have to be after the World Cup which was edging ever closer. This visit to Winchester was a formality to appease his father.
Maybe they’d choose it. Maybe they wouldn’t.
Whenever and wherever it happened, it was enough for Seb to know that it would happen. Just like seeing their baby on a screen—possibility had become reality. It wasn’t a pipe dream out of their reach anymore. He couldn’t have been happier right then.
Even if he did have to spend two nights in his father’s company.
Will met them on arrival and Ja
y coasted the car along the grandiose sweeping driveway that circled a fountain and led up to the reconstructed stately home. Seb gaped out of the window. Surrounded by parkland and colourful, lavish gardens, located next to a free-flowing river, Saunders House and Country Club hadn’t been given the credit it deserved in the brochure. Seb’s father might have to hire a new marketing executive. The house was all redbrick stone with climbing ivy trailing the sides and stone statuettes guarding the grand entrance. It was like stepping back in time. Or onto the set of a British regency drama on the beeb, complete with concrete balcony. It was tranquil and secluded. A perfect wedding venue.
But Seb was still going to hold his cards close to his chest.
“Fuckin’ ‘ell,” Jay blurted as he parked up by the entrance and turned to Seb. “I knew you were rich, but this is royalty rich.”
“I have always had a tendency to do this.” Seb held up his hand and twisted it in circles emulating the Queen’s wave.
“Dick head.”
Seb laughed but faded it out when Will opened Jay’s car door for him.
“Bernard will take the car around to the back for you,” Will said. “And take your bags to the room.”
Seb tumbled out of the car and Jay reluctantly handed over his keys to the old gent doddering forward from behind Will. He winced, watching his prized possession being driven away but Seb rushed around to shake Will’s hands to get the show on the road and take Jay’s mind off the fact that he’d climbed several rungs on the social class ladder by even being here.
“Dad,” he greeted. “Nice place.”
“Sebastian. Jay.” Will shook Jay’s hand. “Welcome to Saunders House and Country Club. Allow me to give you the grand tour.”
“Should we have worn sensible shoes?” Seb asked, glancing down at his All-Stars.
“The day you arrive in brogues, Sebastian, I’ll be sure to know it’s your actual wedding day.”
