The Footballer's Wife (11 page)

Today was Kent's big day, though, and they were
on their way to Blackpool. The coach from Bradington had been an ordeal in itself. Kent had insisted on being in character all day and had Elvised himself up that morning. Tracy had spent the two-hour journey sitting next to GI Elvis, and a fat GI Elvis at that.

The competition was being held in the main hall in one of the grander sea-front hotels near the Pleasure Beach and Kent had to attend the dress rehearsal that afternoon. The coach had dropped them by the Sandcastle leisure centre and, while Kent huffed and puffed and insisted that they go straight to the hotel, Tracy decided that she wanted to have a look at the seafront. She could hear Kent heavy-breathing behind her as he lugged the suitcase, which was so old it looked like a prop from
Tenko
.

‘Smell that, eh?' Tracy said, breathing in deeply and looking out towards the pier. ‘Sea air.' If she was being truthful she would have acknowledged that it wasn't sea air she could smell but petrol fumes and fish and chips.

‘Lovely,' Kent said sharply. ‘I'm going to be late; I'm off to check in.' He had spotted their hotel over the road and marched off across the tramlines.

‘Eh, watch what you're doing. You'll end up
going the same way as Alan Bradley if you're not careful!' Tracy called out. Kent stuck his middle finger up over his shoulder.

‘Moody twat!' Tracy shouted. She was going to leave him to it. Once he was in his dress rehearsal she could go to the other hotel that she was booked into for the afternoon.

*

Charly and Joel were sitting in the private jet that Joel had been loaned by the chairman of Manchester Rovers. Charly would have liked to have taken all of the credit for twisting Joel's arm and getting him to propose and marry her in a few short days but the truth was the order had come from a higher power than her. Charly had prised the truth out of Joel the previous evening when they had been sitting on the balcony of the luxury tree-house they'd been staying in, drinking margaritas. Martin Connors, Joel's boss, had a reputation as a hard-line manager. He would tell his players that there was a constant queue of lads out there waiting to take their place if they put a foot wrong. In the past players had challenged his view and quickly found themselves on the subs bench, or
worse, being sold to another club, their reputations tarnished.

Joel had been hauled into Martin's office five days ago. Martin had confronted him with his tabloid images and told him that, in his opinion, the best players were the ones who took their aggression out on the pitch. He also said that he liked his players to settle down. There were to be no more stories of lap-dancing clubs and call girls, no more arguments with his girlfriend. Nothing was to distract Joel from his football. He told Joel that there were a million women in the world who wanted to get into his pants but that was never going to help his game. He needed to calm down and focus. And the best players, Martin said, were the ones who were married.

That evening as Charly had been sitting on the settee watching
EastEnders
, Joel walked into the apartment seeming very distracted. In his hand was a box and he paced the room a number of times as if deciding if what he was about to do was the right thing. Finally he'd come over and sat next to her on the settee. He handed her the box. Charly had opened it. Inside was a five-carat pink diamond ring. Charly looked at Joel in shock.

‘Will you marry me?' Joel mumbled.

‘Are you serious?' Charly felt as if she was dreaming. She'd thought that it would take her a year of being the best girlfriend in the world for Joel to even contemplate getting married.

‘Totally. We fly to Ibiza tomorrow, if you're up for it. I can't play for at least a month anyway, can I?' He nodded at his damaged foot.

‘Ibiza, what for?' Charly knew she was sounding stupid, but this didn't make sense to her.

‘To get married. On a beach – I know you've always wanted that. Sod the guests. They'd just end up fighting. Just me and you. What do you say?'

It hadn't been the hearts and flowers proposal that Charly had hoped for but she was looking at a massive rock and the emotional security she craved. ‘Yes!' she squealed, hugging Joel tight. He hugged her back.

‘Nice one,' he had said, as if he'd just arranged to go out for a pint with a friend. ‘We're getting picked up from here at ten.'

There were a million and one questions that Charly had wanted to ask him but she knew that there wasn't much point. She had got what she wanted and in record time.

*

Charly reached out and grabbed Joel's hand. ‘So then,
husband
, how do you feel?'

‘Alright, yeah. You?' Joel looked distracted. He had been like this for the past three days. Charly kept telling herself that he was worried about his foot and that getting married was a big deal for any man and he had a lot to think about but she sensed that his heart wasn't in it. It mattered to her how Joel felt, it really did. For all his faults, she loved him. She hated herself for feeling this way sometimes. She was like one of those silly women on
Trisha
who get knocked around the house and when Trisha says, ‘Why do you stay with him?' they always bleat, ‘Because I love him.' Well, she did love him, and she wanted him to love her back. But if that wasn't going to be the case then Charly was going to have to settle for second best – security. It wasn't just that, though. Charly couldn't explain it, even to herself; it was complicated. When Joel was being the kind and generous Joel who she had first met he could be the most loving person in the world. It was for these increasingly few and far between moments that Charly found herself hanging in for.

‘Yeah, I'm fine. Happy, you know?' she said, looking at her wedding finger as the jet began its
descent from the clear blue sky through the murky cloud cover back into Manchester.

*

Kent had left an hour ago, Elvised up to the nines, and Tracy had agreed that she wouldn't see him until after his performance. She promised she would be there to cheer him on, but was wondering now if there was a way of getting out of even that. Tracy's second hotel of the day was the Shangri-La, a place that had come highly recommended but on close inspection needed a good coat of paint and some new bedding. Tracy didn't care. She let herself into the room and opened her bag. Inside was some red and black underwear that she'd got from a stall in Bradington market. You wouldn't want to stand next to a naked flame in it, Tracy thought, but from a distance it was pure filth. Once she was dressed, Tracy checked the time on her mobile and positioned herself on the bed. She lay on her side seductively, pulling at her cleavage to make sure it was on display. Not satisfied with that particular look, she leaned on her front, facing towards the door with her finger under her chin and her thong-clad backside waving in the air. That didn't work for
her either. She tried legs akimbo and thought that that was pushing things a little too far. Just as she was trying to manoeuvre herself into the best sexy position she could muster, there was a knock on the door and Tracy nearly fell off the bed with shock.

‘Come in,' she said, regaining her composure and resuming the first position.

Mac Jones walked in and took in the sight that lay before him. ‘Well, don't you look good enough to shag?' he said.

*

The first that Len knew about his daughter's marriage was when he walked into the local newsagents and saw the picture of Charly and Joel on the front cover of one of the tabloids. He felt as if someone had just delivered him a sucker punch. He didn't know whether to flee the shop, pick up the pile of papers and shred them or just sit and sob. What was that stupid girl doing? He bought the paper – he could feel the gaze of the woman behind the counter boring into him, knowing that he was Charly's father – but he didn't flinch. He didn't want her ringing up a newspaper and making a few quid out of his reaction. He walked out of the shop and
down a nearby deserted alleyway where he pored over the article. It didn't tell him much. Charly was sporting a huge ring, the pair had disappeared off to Ibiza and the only guests present were two witnesses who were guests at the hotel where they had stayed. They were now back in England. Len read over the article again, trying to take it all in.
Why hadn't she told him?
He took out his mobile phone and scrolled to Charly's number but something put him off calling her. He decided to ring Jimmy instead.

He launched straight into conversation. ‘Our Charly's married that bloody Joel lad without even telling us.'

‘Good lass.' Jimmy sounded delighted.

‘Good lass? Are you wrong in the head? He's a frigging psychopath.'

‘Yeah but think about it, he's a rich psychopath. Any more of his tricks and she can divorce him and claim half, can't she?'

‘You'll never change, will you, Jimmy? Always thinking about money,' Len said angrily.

‘Don't have a pop at me because I'm trying to look on the bright side.'

‘You bloody moron.' Len hung up. He wasn't going to keep talking to Jimmy if he wasn't going to talk any sense. He scrolled back to Charly's name
and pressed ‘call'. Len could feel his heart thumping in his chest.

‘Hello,' Charly said quietly.

‘You could have told me.' Len's voice was choked.

‘It just happened, Dad, I'm sorry.'

‘Is that it? Is that all you've got to say?'

‘What else do you want me to say? It's not like you and Joel were bezzie mates, is it?'

Len could feel his blood begin to boil again thinking about how the upstart footballer had treated both him and his daughter. ‘All the more reason to let me know when you're thinking of doing something as serious as marrying him.'

‘Dad. Why don't I come and meet you and we can talk about it?'

Len felt his shoulders relax. ‘Where?'

‘I'll just come home.'

Len smiled. The fact that Charly still called his house ‘home' made him feel better. ‘OK, love,' he said, softening. ‘What time shall I expect you?'

‘Seven. Bye, Dad.'

‘See you, love.' Len folded the paper up and stuffed it down the side of a wall as if hiding the information held within its pages from the world.

He walked back down the alleyway into the busy street and thought about what Jimmy had said.
Maybe his son had a point – there were a lot of good-for-nothings that his daughter could have married. At least this one had some money. But he couldn't stay with this feeling for long, not after he'd witnessed Joel's temper first-hand.

*

Charly answered the door to the pizza delivery man. She paid and thanked him, knowing that he was trying to place who she was. She shut the door before he had time to ask. She took the pizza through to the kitchen and plated it up for Joel, pouring him a glass of milk, and bringing the meal through to the living room where he was playing a video game. Joel wasn't looking in the mood to be disturbed.

‘Brought you some tea,' Charly said brightly.

‘I don't want any tea. I'm off out.'

‘Since when?' Charly asked.

‘Since whenever. What's it got to do with you?'

‘It's got a lot to do with me. I'm your wife. Your new wife. If you're going out on the town then I'm entitled to know, surely.' Charly had hoped things would change now that they were married; that Joel would include her in his life.

‘You're going to your dad's, what do you care?'

‘I'm only going to be there for an hour. How long are you going to be?'

‘All night. What's it matter?' Joel snapped. He pulled the games console angrily up in the air as if the movement would give him some advantage.

‘It matters because I want you to think about me for a change instead of just yourself.'

‘For fuck's sake!' Joel shouted angrily, throwing the console at Charly, hitting her square in the face. She reeled back in shock, holding her temple. When she removed her hand to inspect it she saw that it was covered in thick crimson blood.

‘What did you do that for?'

‘You made me lose with your carping. If I'd known you were going to be like this I wouldn't have married you.'

Something inside Charly snapped. All of the abuse that she'd taken from Joel over the last year, all of the anger at him that she'd bottled up came out in that moment. She grabbed the heavy glass vase from the dining table and swung it at Joel, letting out a raw primal scream. Joel saw it coming and blocked it with his arm. He grabbed Charly by the hair and pulled her to the floor, wrapping his fingers around her throat. ‘Get off me!' she shouted through gasps.

‘You deranged bitch!' Joel shouted.

Charly kicked out but to no avail; Joel was far stronger than her. She saw his fist coming towards her a moment before she felt the impact. She turned her face to the side and tried to curl into a ball. The fight had left her; she just wanted him to leave her alone. But he punched her again, and again. The last thing she remembered stupidly thinking was that Scott Crompton, her ex-boyfriend, might have found out that she was married and be on his way to confront her about it and ultimately save her. But that wasn't going to happen. Scott wouldn't ever think himself a match for Joel Baldy. Too bad, Charly thought, as Joel's punches rained onto her and she finally blacked out.

*

It had been hard to arrange, but Len had managed to get the night off. He was sitting in his kitchen with two plates of fish and chips waiting for Charly to arrive. Fish and chips was Charly's favourite. When she was a little girl and her mum was around they used to get fish and chips on a Friday night. Jimmy and the twins would always moan and leave half, Shirley would have a chip buttie and wash it
down with some cheap brandy, but Len and Charly would sit and eat their fish and chips and enjoy every last bite.