by Tara Wimble
The shouting resumes once they make it out and Jacque wants to get back in there. It’s their team falling apart in there and leaving them to try and battle it out doesn’t feel right to her. Even if it’s going to take a while for her to be able to look Sadie in the face.
Bella guides her to the elevator, pushing the button to close the doors, and then it’s just two of them. “Did we blow this?”
The game or their cover? Jacque leans against the wall. “Sadie is just lashing out.”
“If we’ve messed up- if they figure this out- Oliv was talking about FIFA-”
Jacque rolls the key to Carla’s room in her hands. “Oliv was just talking shit because we just-” They were robbed. “-everyone is gonna be pissed. We’re just an easy target.”
Bella crosses her arms over her chest. “It was a little too close to home.”
The doors open on their floor and Jacque drags her feet out. “They’ll wake up tomorrow and have to have a calm conversation with the rest of us. All of us will need to shake this off tomorrow.” Carla’s room is the furthest from the lift. “Because Carla was right. We’ve got another game. It might not be the one that we wanted-”
“You know that I meant what I said down there.” Bella cuts in. “Me and Sess and Chels- we’d never-”
“I know.” Jacque puts the key in the door. “Trust me, I know what you’ve done for this team.”
Carla is sharing with Niav which adds to some questionable thoughts about the allocations for this last match. Everything is packed away neatly. Their cases only have the things they need for tonight as tomorrow they make their way to Coventry now, not London, to prepare for the Bronze medal match against France.
Jacque eyes the mini fridge they walk past when they get inside. It’s tempting to just take off somewhere and put as much distance between her and the team as they can but Sadie’s comment has called them out. People may not have noticed but now they’re being called into question.
They have three days to fix themselves up and hobble on from this loss.
Bella takes off her jacket and folds it over her arms. She ends up hugging it to her chest while Jacque forces herself to sit down on the opposite bed.
“Are you okay?” It catches her off guard because she expected that she was going to be the one to ask that question. Bella waits patiently for her.
When she closes her eyes she’s still lying on her back on the field in Old Trafford. A part of her might not ever leave there. The sky was dark above her and hopelessness consumed her the second before the whistle snuffed out their dreams.
Bella had been the one who came to pick her up, kneeling beside her, and waiting for her to gather her strength again. The only thing harder than losing was having to watch the US embracing and running all over the pitch. A miracle game. One for the ages. One to remember. Well, as long as you supported the winning side.
“Maybe when tonight’s over. I’ll tell you tomorrow morning.”
Bella huffs out, weakly smiling. “What do you think will happen tomorrow?”
Jacque rolls her shoulders out. “At some point Carla will come up and tell us the coast is clear. We’ll be woken up at a god awful hour and be forced to sit through the match from last night while we curse and sigh and generally feel like shit.” She swallows. “And then we’ll get on the bus and go to Coventry. At some point Sadie will apologise. We’ll all apologise because Carla was right. We have one more shot at a consolation prize.”
“You think she’ll apologise?” Bella asks.
“It’s just anger. Hurt.” Jacque theorizes. “We’ve all said things in the heat of the moment.”
They know this better than most.
“It’s gonna be awkward tomorrow for sure but just keep your head up, we’re doing well. Sadie was just looking for something to attack.” Jacque says. “And even though she doesn’t know it, she hit something on the head.”
Their cover wasn’t as airtight as it was before Germany. They both know that but they’ve tried. Trying is harder though when they’ve hurt each other. With distance comes a slip.
“One more game and-” Jacque doesn’t want to say that it’ll all be over. “We can do this.”
Bella takes reassurance from those words. She rises from the opposite bed and sits down next to Jacque.
“Once this is over, we’ll win- we have to win now.” Bella states boldly. “I’ll just- Everything will be perfect. It’ll be one of the happiest moments of my life, to stand up there.”
Jacque nods her head and she ignores how singular that goal is. How short term it sounds. How it doesn’t apply to the moment after, when they leave that pitch, and what they’ll have to face up to then.
*
Sure as anything it goes exactly the way that she said it would. Carla eventually came up and gave the all clear and they returned to their respective rooms for the night.
In the morning Sadie dragged herself sulking to where Jacque and Bella sat eating their breakfast with a repentant look on her face. “I’m a fucking asshole.”
Jacque nods in agreement because Sadie might be one of her oldest and best friends but that only makes it easier to help call her out when she needs it. That’s what friends are for and all. “Yeah, you are a fucking asshole.”
“I shouldn’t have said what I said last night, not really any of it actually, but especially the stuff about you two.” She stops and looks at Bella to make sure that she knows she means a lot more than just calling out their marriage. “Even if--.” She cuts herself off at knees, not even wanting to go back any possibility that her comments had validity. “I’m sorry.”
“I get it, I forgive you.” Sadie looks immediately relieved. But Jacque’s not finished. “But next time you want to lash out at something leave my marriage out of it. We can joke, whatever, that’s fine. But this is my life.”
“I know.” Sadie is properly chagrined and leans over, picking Jacque up out of her chair to the laughter of the people surrounding her, and gives her a bone crushing hug. She puts Jacque back into the chair and turns towards Bella. “Your turn!”
Bella’s eyes widen and there’s a moment of hesitation before she darts out of the chair. Laughing she sprints in between tables hiding behind unwilling participants in their little game. This is exactly what the team needs, this sort of levity, a reason to comfortably laugh and smile and joke around with each other again.
A clean slate.
Last night will likely be the worst night of most of their lives for a pretty long time but it’s not healthy to dwell on that. They were on the wrong side of a classic and then later on the wrong side of each other.
But sometimes all it takes to really move on is the sight of Sadie fireman carrying Bella around the breakfast tables once she’s been caught.
It’s not much but it’s light and it’s fun and it helps them look forward.
Because there’s no going back now.
*
They sing louder in the lineup. They hold onto each other tighter. The grass beneath them is familiar and solid. The red jersey consumes them. This last match is for them.
Bella checks into the game after a scoreless first half. Pushing upwards and dropping Kathryn down. Carla is right behind her for the entire game. Whemb and Oliv are on the wings and when France asks a question with a shot past Sadie, they are quick to answer it.
Drawing 1-1 with France was never the endgame after their three striker interplay. Ninety starts to tick down. Bella feels the sweat dripping down her back. Oliv gets louder. Sophie runs and turns and then-
Carla scores and the City of Coventry stadium erupts.
Bella is running and running. Dizzy with glee as Carla is hoisted over Niav’s shoulder. She gets an arm to Carla’s back and screams joyfully before she’s sprinting towards teammate after teammate. Imogen is jumping on the bench and Sadie is yelling at the sky.
And then she loses everything being held so close to her chest, launching herself at Jacque to be pi
cked up and spun around. Bella throws her arms around Jacque’s neck and the last year of their disjointed lives echoes around them painfully.
To the outside world they’re a picture perfect moment. Bella’s face beams over Jacque’s shoulders with an excitement that only comes with a ninety minute winner and the embrace of a lover. Jacque buries her head in Bella’s shoulder and all the world’s press can see is their relationship in a single image. Happily married.
In all the success, all the happiness while they hold each other and celebrate, and the now inevitable bronze medal that’s going to hang from their necks the team pulls together, with no one noticing how they’re falling apart.
Jacque holds her there, knowing that the referee will call for them to restart any second, in strong arms and lets her just collapse. She’ll have to bottle it up and play out the last thirty seconds but she feels safe enough, with all eyes on them, just to break.
“I’m so tired.” She hears Jacque mutter into her shoulder.
Bella turns her face to Jacque’s cheek, her hand kind of cradles the back of Jacque’s head into her chest. “It’s almost over.”
Thirty more seconds until the end. Until a podium place. Until everything changes.
She’s just not sure that Jacque was talking about the game or their relationship.
When play resumes, when the whistle blows and the Canadian flags are brought out, Bella doesn’t feel like she’s doing the wrong thing by grabbing Jacque by the waist and the other half of a flag.
They lap the ground and despite beating the home team to get this far, England cheers for them.
It’s one of the first times she sees a Canadian flag waving proudly in the stands and feels a true connection to it, deep down in her heart.
The crowd is on its feet for them and it’s a change from the hostile reception they had against GB. Bella basks in it. Who knows when she’ll play in front of this many people again?
Carla is being passed around by the whole team. Hugging and crying as the reality sinks in. They’ve won the bronze medal. Bella eventually gets her turn to embrace her teammate and it’s a blur of thanks and Carla looking as exhausted as they all feel.
Afterwards Bella breaks away and finds Jacque. She peels away from Kelly and walks to meet her in the middle. They feel defeated although they’re the winners. The weight is heavier than a medal now as the hard part begins when they get back home. For a second though, Bella just wants her friend. She just wants to see her smile and for them to enjoy the moment.
She’ll see it broadcasted later. The walk she makes to Jacque is followed by a camera who doesn’t quite expect her to get as close to Jacque’s lips as she does when she pulls their foreheads together by the back of her neck. Jacque’s hands settle on her forearms and they breathe together.
Bella can’t even remember what she said.
But she remembers Jacque’s word for word.
“Are you happy now?”
It haunts her. That elusive question follows her even after she nods. Even after Jacque has dropped the hand from around her waist and they’ve cleared off the field. The locker room is overwhelming. The Power of Love rendition is ten times as loud as it ever has been and Bella can feel her teammates heart’s belting into the lyrics as they sing them.
Desi is in the middle of them but they hold hands behind her back.
There’s no time to linger in Coventry or to console the French team. No sooner are they all showered and changed they’re being shuffled onto a bus. All eyes and thoughts are now on the Olympic final.
They make it down to London as the game is on and while there’s still a resounding bitterness towards the US, as is the nature of their rivalry, when they make it inside Wembley everyone is spellbound.
Redemption for the World Cup less than a year ago comes as the US take apart the Japanese defense. Carli Lloyd belts two goals past Fukumoto. The sound the ball makes against the back of the net is echoed by an intensely pumped up crowd. The Japanese have an answer for one but then the whistle blows it all seemed so inevitable that it would be the US draped in gold.
Bella looks over at Sadie, as if she expects another comment to be dropped about the Americans, but none comes. She stands in the press box, waiting for their cue, watching her former teammates from an age ago raise their arms in euphoric celebrations.
Yet she knows that this is where she should be standing. Where she wants to be standing.
They’re told to wait until the last of the Americans, Tobin Heath, Lauren Cheney and Amy Rodriguez, have walked off the field together, before volunteers come to explain and guide them through the medal ceremonies.
Number order. Walk out. Rise onto the podium when prompted. Smile and wave and then watch the flags be raised.
Everyone is checked over by officials. No phones are allowed to be switched on or cameras to be taken out. They’re all told to keep their track suit jackets zipped up and to enjoy the moment. Then the buzzing starts.
The realization that this is happening. It hits her, it hits all of them fifteen minutes later when the three medal winning teams are led out one by one onto the field. Bella has never set foot on the field at Wembley in her life but it comes with an awed sense of accomplishment that she’s made it this far.
Whatever the goal was almost six years ago, this is the peak. This is the moment it becomes more than the dream.
Jan walks in front of her, Jacque behind her, followed by Robyn and Kathryn. They put one foot in front of the other and line up behind the purple third place stage. The Japanese team walk past them before the Americans do. She makes eye contact with all of them and even though the wound is still fresh, she’s smiling.
“Congratulations.” The Olympic presenter gestures for her to lower her head and Bella feels the heavy weight of the bronze medal for the first time. She shakes her hand and the following representative hands her a bouquet of flowers.
Bella feels Jan’s arm drape over her shoulders just as the camera passes from them to Jacque and Robyn. She holds the medal in her hand and traces the design on the front of it. London 2012 Olympics. This is insane.
The bittersweet moment that they all expected washes over them when the gold medals are presented to the US. Hand in hand they all throw their arms up in joy. It’s then that they’re directed to turn to watch the raising of the flags.
Maybe she shouldn’t, maybe she’s taking too much out of Jacque already, but she laces their hands together as the Canadian flag is hoisted along with the rest of them. There’s nothing that can wipe the smile from her face.
She knows that if this were real, if this had all been real between them, there’d be no hesitation in pulling Jacque in and kissing her. That’s what the world expects. What they’d expect to do. But she can only wait until they’ve stepped off the podium, after the flags and the anthems, and let Jacque wrap her in a tight hug.
Are you happy now?
“Can you believe this?”
Most of the cameras are following the US players around but nevertheless she sticks by Jacque because it’s expected but also because she can’t even think about letting go of her right now. The image will be burned onto the backs of computer screens for months, the way Jacque supports her as they walk around in a daze, and the expression of relief shared on their faces.
They don’t know much else, what lies behind them, and for that Bella is grateful. She can’t think yet. She can’t think what the end of this tournament and this Olympics will bring for them if not the end.
Six years of her life. It’s terrifying.
The bar sticks and the flag waves in the London air. They’ve done it. it. Bella looks around at her scattered teammates, taking photographs, embracing their families and friends, before she comes to stand with Jacque and Whemb and Ginny. There’s nothing more to be done.
Let the celebrations begin.
*
They’ve popped so many bottles of champagne that nobody jumps any more at the sound of i
t, of course, that led to Sophie taking a cork in the back that will more than likely leave a bruise. But no one can do more than crack up about it because it’s Sophie and it counts as a moment and they just won a fucking bronze medal so who cares.
Their families, the ones who flew in for the games, are all around them. Her parents ducked out earlier after telling her how proud they were of her and she’d excused herself momentarily to wipe her eyes. Everyone is smiling, everyone is dancing and drinking and there’s no sign that this party is going to stop anytime soon.
Jacque had hopped off the stage a few minutes ago to cool off, they don’t really tell you how hot those lights are until you’re up there and you’ve had something to drink and feel like you’re in an oven.
Bella’s still up there when she looks back and Jacque can’t help but smile at how she’s moon walking to a song that doesn’t have the beat for it but there’s not a single soul who cares because this is a celebration. If they all chose to stand on their heads for the rest of the night people would go with it.
She heads over to the bar because she finished her portion of the champagne and has to keep up if she doesn’t want to be that awkward sober person in the room.
Soon though she wishes she hadn’t because Bella, feeling the same distress at the heat, jumps off the stage and makes a beeline for Jacque.
“You!” She points and it’s obvious she’s a little bit drunk.
“Me!” Jacque responds gamely, laughing when Bella flies into her arms. Everything can wait until tomorrow. Until after the closing ceremonies. Until they get home. It’s how she rationalizes it all.
It’s not a spoken decision but once Bella’s in her arms she stays there and they start to dance together to the music blasting through the speakers. The playlist consists of mostly hip hop and rap and music that Jacque can only jokingly dance to.
But Bella knows her limitations so they mostly stick to the basics.
And then the DJ starts switching over to a little bit of a raunchier playlist, obviously trying to heighten the celebration and take advantage of the drunken excitement of the team.
