Striker Boy Kicks Out (30 page)

“I can see where they were coming from,” mused Nat. “I mean, José's career was destroyed by that crash
and
he lost his father, but I agree with you – murdering Mabena is way off the scale.”

“Look, son, we need to head off,” said Fox. “But we're not deserting you. Stan's going to get your flight changed so that you can travel home with your dad. I'll give you a ring tomorrow night – give you a day to recover and get your head straight, OK?”

“Yes, boss,” nodded Nat.

The English-speaking officer then arrived, but before he could start interrogating Nat, Nat got in a question of his own.

“The guy working with José – do you know who he is?”

The officer nodded. “He is José's brother. He broke out of jail a few days ago, so it's doubly good you were here to do what you did.”

José's brother. Why did Inés never mention him?

It was a full hour before the policeman had finished with Nat, by which time the team bus had already left for the airport.

Nat was delighted to be flying home with his dad rather than the rest of the squad. If he went with the lads they'd
have a million questions for him and he didn't really feel like another full-on interrogation after the grilling he'd just had from the police.

The English-speaking officer thanked Nat and said he was now free to go. He warned him that the Spanish authorities would definitely need to speak to him again, but that this time it could be over the phone. He was fine to fly back to England, but would probably need to return to Spain when the case reached the courts.

A Talorca official then led Nat and Dave back downstairs and accompanied them to the front of the stadium, wishing them well on their journey home. They stepped out into the glaring sunlight and the first thing Nat saw was the red Fiat, parked pretty badly in one of the bays. In all of the mayhem he'd forgotten that he'd ‘borrowed' it.

Standing next to the vehicle was Inés. Her eyes were red and blotchy – she'd clearly been crying. Nat swallowed hard and walked towards her.

Nat quickly glanced at Dave and then at Inés again. How much did she know? Was she furious with him for getting involved? Did she hate him because he'd stopped her sons' plan and ensured they'd both go to prison for a very long time?

But as she reached him, she threw out her arms and gave him a huge hug.

“The police have told me everything,” she said quietly, after she'd released him. “I knew José and his brother hated Mabena, but to try and kill him? This is something I cannot believe. You absolutely did the right thing, Nat. Your bravery stopped some bloodshed here and there are many people, including myself, who will always be grateful for what you did today.”

There was silence for a few moments.

“Oh . . . sorry. . . Inés, this is my father, Dave.”

They shook hands.

“Thanks for looking after my son so well,” smiled Dave. “Sounds like you've been a fantastic host.”

“It's been a pleasure,” replied Inés softly. “It's terrible
that he found himself caught up in all of this.”

There was another silence but before it became uncomfortable, something struck Nat.

“Inés, José's brother called him Rudy. Do you know why?”

“Rudy is his middle name,” sighed Inés. “And Carlos is my other son's middle name. His real name is Fernando. They must have used their middle names because they wanted to avoid detection.”

“Why haven't you mentioned Fernando to me?” asked Nat.

“Shortly after my husband was killed, Fernando started behaving very recklessly,” said Inés sadly. “At first it was small things, but then he started hanging out with a group of very shady characters. I pleaded with him to drop them and stick to his old friends, but he didn't care about what I said any more. And then he started getting involved in criminal activity. On the first few occasions, I supported him, but then he and some ‘friends' held up a store, and the owner was hurt in the process. When I heard that Fernando had been in the thick of it, I said I could not support him any longer and he warned me never to contact him again. When the case went to court, he was sentenced to six months in prison and I have not seen or heard from him since then, until the prison contacted me to tell me he had escaped. It looks now that he deliberately got sent to jail so that he could learn how to make bombs in prison – at least that's what one of the officers told me.”

“I'm so sorry,” said Dave.

“Their father is dead and gone,” said Inés wistfully. “He is not coming back. They can't spend the rest of their lives trying to get rid of Victor Mabena. What's done is done. They must move on. Unfortunately, now they will both be spending a long time inside.”

“Will you visit them?” asked Nat.

“José, yes. Fernando, I shall see how it goes.”

They were all silent and then Dave spoke.

“Look, Inés,” he said. “You've been a brilliant host to Nat. And now this terrible thing has happened to you. Nat tells me you're a teacher and that it's the middle of the school holidays now. Why don't you come to England for a bit, have a break? It would give you a chance to get away from here – have some time for yourself. We've got plenty of room and we'd stay out of your way if you liked. There's decent transport near us. You can get to central London in about forty-five minutes.”

“That's a great idea!” said Nat enthusiastically.

Inés's face broke into a smile. “That is so kind of you, but surely you don't want a fussy Spanish woman to spoil your bachelor pad?”

“Nonsense!” said Dave. “We'd love it. What do you say?”

“It's a lovely thought, and I'm very tempted,” she responded. “First, though, I'll need to find out a lot more about what happened here and what's going to happen to my boys. Perhaps, when the dust is settled in a few weeks, I will take up your kind offer.”

“I understand,” replied Dave, “but let us know.
You can come whenever you like for as long as you like.”

“Thank you both very much,” she replied. She shook Dave's hand, then grabbed Nat and gave him another rib-busting hug. “My famous football guest!” she laughed, pulling away. “It goes without saying that you are both welcome to stay with me whenever
you
want.”

“We might need to!” grinned Nat. “Your cooking is miles better than his!”

“Easy now,” cut in Dave, laughing.

Inés put out her right hand and at first Nat didn't know what she meant. But his gaze drifted over her shoulder to the Fiat and, with deep embarrassment, he handed her the keys.

“Er . . . sorry about borrowing the car without asking,” he said sheepishly.

“You did what?” demanded Dave.

“It's no problem,” she smiled. “In return, I have your mobile phone. It was on your bedroom floor.” She handed it back.

“Thanks,” said Nat.

“Now I'd better go,” smiled Inés, “or I'll start crying.”

She climbed into the Fiat, turned on the engine and pulled away.

“What are you going to tell your teammates?” asked Dave.

Nat shrugged his shoulders. “I have no idea. Like Ian Fox said, to be involved with one gang of criminals is one thing, to come across another is unreal.”

“You're right there, mate. You've had enough
excitement in a few months than most people have in their entire lives.”

“Shall we get a cab to the airport now?” asked Nat.

“Definitely,” nodded Dave. “I'm just going to nip back into the stadium to use the toilet. I'll see you in a minute.”

“Cool.”

His father had just headed back inside when Nat saw a figure striding towards him.

It was the man – the stalker. Terror gripped him. If this guy was connected to Tanner he could be a psychopath too. He may have a gun. Nat shivered but he couldn't run.

The man reached him and dipped his right hand into his jacket pocket. Nat flinched. But instead of a gun, the man produced a business card.

Phil Gartside, Football Agent
.

Nat looked at him in shock. “You're . . . you're an agent?”

“Is that so surprising?” replied Gartside. “I would imagine there are thousands of agents wanting to speak to you at the moment.”

“Really?” said Nat.

“You're only sixteen and you won't be signing a professional contract with Hatton Rangers until your seventeenth birthday, right?”

Nat nodded.

“So I'm here to suggest an alternative direction for you.”

“I don't understand.”

“I represent several Spanish teams,” explained Gartside.

“Spanish teams?” repeated Nat.

“Several clubs out here have been monitoring your progress, both in England and during your week in Spain.”

“They've been following
me
?” asked Nat incredulously.

“Hatton Rangers is a good club to start your career,” went on Gartside, “but with the talent you possess, there's a far bigger stage to parade what you can do.”

“You're joking,” mouthed Nat.

“I'm not joking,” replied Gartside firmly. “The President and manager of one club in particular have made their position very clear to me. They're willing to offer you terms and conditions many light years away from what Rangers will put on the table.”

Nat stood there, his mouth hanging open in astonishment. “Which club is it?” he heard himself ask.

“I represent the management team from Camp Nou, Nat,” said Gartside. “They're deadly serious about signing you. They want you to play for Barcelona.”