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  James was based in the centre of defence, as usual. And – also like usual recently – he felt only half interested in the game. In the last month he’d made some bad mistakes on the pitch because he wasn’t as up for it as he used to be. Something was missing.

  But they were at West Ham, his dad’s old club. He knew his dad would be wanting him to do his best in front of all his friends.

  So he put his confused thoughts to the back of his mind. He’d do this. Then tonight he would think. Think hard.

  Arsenal scored their first goal within three minutes.

  Their players were moving so quickly – and passing the ball so perfectly – it was impossible to get near them.

  James did everything he could to get to the ball. He made two tackles before it ran loose and the Arsenal star player – Theo Bingley – was on to it. He collected the ball effortlessly and slotted it home.

  One–nil.

  After that, James, Ryan and Chi worked hard to get the United team to keep the ball more. And when Arsenal attacked, United managed to hold them off, packing the midfield, then the defence. But it was hard. If the United back line had lost their concentration for a second they would have conceded again.

  At half-time it was still one–nil. And Steve was delighted.

  ‘Great stuff. You’re doing just what I asked. Defenders: excellent. James especially. Your heads could have dropped when the goal went in, but they didn’t. Great stuff.’

  Steve paused and looked over at the Arsenal team.

  ‘The second half is about stamina,’ he said. ‘They look like they might get tired doing all this work. If we can hold them off, we only need to hit them on the break once. Jake? Yunis? I want you to be on the look-out for the opening. Everyone else, play deep. I want forty-five minutes more out of you. Remember, there are no subs for us. But I know you eleven can get a result here.’

  The Deadly Duo

  It was hard going. With ten minutes left to play, United had kept the score to one–nil. But it wasn’t good enough. They needed one goal. At least.

  Ryan was talking to everyone, being a great captain.

  ‘Come on. Keep it up!’ he shouted. ‘You’re doing brilliant. Jake? Yunis? Be ready.’

  And, five minutes later, Jake saw Ryan collect the ball after an Arsenal attack had broken down. Instinctively Jake ran wide up the pitch. He saw Yunis move up level with the Arsenal defenders at the same time.

  Then Ryan fired the ball out to Jake. Jake took it in his stride and ran. This was great. They’d been defending for eighty-five minutes and he’d barely had a chance to use the ball. He moved wide to the edge of the area. Two big Arsenal defenders were ready to close him down.

  But they weren’t ready for what he did next. Without looking up, Jake crossed the ball high to the near post. How many times this season had he looked across to see Yunis there, ready to score?

  Loads.

  So this time he didn’t even look up.

  After he crossed the ball he fell over, his thigh cramping painfully. But he managed to look up to see what had happened.

  The Arsenal keeper was on his back. The ball was in the net.

  The Deadly Duo had struck again and Yunis was sprinting towards Jake, grinning.

  Arsenal 1 United 1.

  Jake raised his arms and shouted.

  Six minutes later the referee blew his whistle. One–one was the final score.

  James felt OK. He’d had a good game and his dad looked happy. He noticed that Ryan had been talking to Steve, but now Ryan was running towards the players.

  Jake had gone down on to the pitch, holding his thigh. It was still painful and he dreaded playing extra time.

  Ryan stopped as he reached the ten lads.

  ‘Penalties,’ he said.

  ‘I thought it was extra time,’ Chi pointed out.

  ‘No, it’s penalties. Steve and the Arsenal manager have agreed it. What with the match tomorrow too. Who wants it?’ Ryan asked. ‘Step forward if you do. I need five.’

  Yunis and Will stepped forward straight away, then Ben. Ryan joined them.

  Chi shook his head. So did most of the others.

  Jake said, ‘I can’t. My leg. I would…’

  Ryan nodded. ‘One more,’ he said.

  Then James stepped forward. ‘I’ll do it.’

  Penalties

  Both teams gathered near the centre of the pitch, Arsenal to the left of the centre circle, United to the right.

  The referee called the captains over and tossed a coin. Ryan called out heads and it was heads.

  ‘We’ll go second,’ Ryan said, patting the United keeper, Tomasz, on the back. Tomasz was Polish and had been with the team less than two years, but he was a great keeper – and had already proved that he could save penalties this season.

  But when the first Arsenal player stepped up to shoot, Tomasz dived left. The ball went right.

  Arsenal 1 United 0.

  Then Will – Yunis’s striking partner – placed the ball on the spot. He eyed the Arsenal keeper, who was huge for his age – as big as a grown man.

  Will hit the ball to the right. The keeper went to the right too, palming the ball round the post.

  Arsenal 1 United 0. Still.

  As Will came back to the team, Ryan put his arm round him. ‘Don’t worry,’ he said. ‘It’s hard.’

  Then the second Arsenal player scored his penalty.

  Arsenal 2 United 0.

  It wasn’t looking good.

  Jake wished he could take a penalty, but his leg was still cramping. He had it stretched out, with Chi holding his foot to help relieve the pain.

  Then Yunis stepped up and Jake smiled. He knew Yunis would score.

  And he did.

  Arsenal 2 United 1.

  Ryan went over to Tomasz and whispered something in his ear. Tomasz grinned, then nodded.

  The third Arsenal player took the ball and placed it on the spot.

  Then Tomasz smiled at him.

  Ryan had talked to Tomasz about the final. If they won this shoot-out, they’d be playing Chelsea to win the Christmas Cup. And they’d be the first team from outside London to do it, according to Steve. That was what he’d told Tomasz, to motivate him.

  The Arsenal player drove the ball straight down the middle. Tomasz stood still and caught it.

  Arsenal 2 United 1.

  Ryan went up to Ben and James. He repeated what he’d said to Tomasz. They could reach the final, be the first northern team to win this cup.

  Ben stepped up – and scored. Two–two.

  But the next Arsenal player scored too. Three–two.

  Then Ryan scored. It was three–three.

  There were two players left to shoot: the Arsenal striker who had come on as a substitute, and James.

  The Arsenal striker swaggered up to the ball. He looked like he’d already scored. He smirked at Tomasz and Tomasz smiled back.

  Then – without taking a run-up – the striker stroked the ball to the far-left corner of the goal. Tomasz leaped, his legs propelling his long arms to tip the ball on to the post.

  The ball came back into play and the Arsenal striker thrashed it into the net.

  But the referee shook his head.

  No goal, no rebounds – and everyone knew it.

  Ryan jumped into the air and ran to Tomasz, putting his arm round his back. If United scored their last penalty they’d be in the final to play Chelsea.

  Jake was pleased with what he saw. Ryan was being a really good captain now. In the past he’d not been so good, but now he was a real leader. It was great to see him being so friendly with Tomasz. Only weeks ago they’d hated each other.

  James picked up the ball. I’m going to score, he said to himself. I’m not going to worry about being a United player. I am just going to put the ball on the spot – and score.

  He put the ball down. Stepped back. Glanced to the left of the goal. Took two steps. And hammered the ball as hard as he could high into
the centre of the net.

  The keeper dived left.

  The ball hit the net so hard a shower of rain came down off the crossbar, soaking the Arsenal keeper.

  Arsenal 3 United 4.

  United were in the final.

  Wednesday 21 December

  Arsenal 1 United 1

  United win 4–3 on penalties

  Goals: Yunis

  Penalties: Yunis, Ben, Ryan, James

  Bookings: none

  Under-twelves manager’s marks out of ten for each player:

  Tomasz 9

  Connor 7

  James 9

  Ryan 9

  Ronan 7

  Chi 7

  Tony 7

  Jake 9

  Yunis 9

  Will 7

  Ben 8

  Like Father, Not Like Son

  When James came out of the dressing room, he saw his dad was surrounded by his old friends again together with the West Ham coaches – and staff from Chelsea and Arsenal.

  James was used to this. Whenever they went anywhere – especially to do with football – his dad would get lots of handshakes and pats on the back. It even happened in the supermarket sometimes, or in the town centre. People would stare and point. Sometimes they would come up to him, telling him that they saw him play in 1983 and how he’d made them really happy, going on and on about his headed goal in the cup final when he’d won it for West Ham.

  James was OK with this, mostly because he was used to it. But he was uncomfortable when the attention turned on him. And he hated it when people started telling him things like he was going to be an England international just like his dad.

  So he wasn’t happy with what happened next.

  First a cheer went up. Then they all started clapping. Five grown men were applauding James, including his dad.

  James tried to smile.

  ‘Here comes England’s next world-cup-winning captain,’ one man said. James sort of recognized him. He looked like a player he’d seen photos of with his dad at West Ham.

  ‘We hope so. Don’t we?’ James’s dad said.

  ‘He’ll be lifting a trophy like you did, Cyril. I can see it.’

  James just smiled. He didn’t want to actually say yes.

  ‘That was a great performance, son,’ another man said. James didn’t recognize him. ‘You held that defence together superbly. I don’t think anyone’s ever kept Arsenal down to just one. You and that captain of yours were heroes.’

  ‘Thank you,’ James said, knowing his dad was watching him.

  ‘So how are you enjoying it at United?’ the man said.

  ‘Great, thanks,’ James said.

  But inside he was starting to feel angry and all his anger was aimed at his dad. Why couldn’t his dad see that he hated this? Why couldn’t his dad stop them going on at him?

  ‘We’re really happy with United,’ his dad said. ‘The coaching is right and so is the balance between school and football. Obviously he’ll have to put more in when he’s fifteen and sixteen to get a full contract. But now it’s just right.’

  James smiled on the outside, gazing across at the team bus. He wished he was on it, listening to music. Very loud music.

  Why did his dad not know him at all?

  Why did he think he was going to do exactly what he had done?

  Why did he think the best thing in the world was being a footballer?

  Secret Santas

  Steve was in a good mood on the coach leaving West Ham. He was wearing a Santa hat and grinning.

  ‘Right, lads.’

  The boys burst out laughing.

  ‘What?’ Steve said, half smiling. ‘Anyway. That was great today. I am so proud of you. What a result! You beat one of the best under-twelves teams in Europe. I couldn’t be happier.’

  Steve then picked up a bucket from one of the front seats.

  ‘This,’ he said, ‘is the Secret Santa bucket. In each envelope there is a tenner and the name of one of us. It could be one of the lads – or one of us adults. We’re off Christmas shopping now and I want you to choose a ten-pound present for whoever’s name you get in the draw. OK?’

  The whole team cheered.

  Steve started to hand out the envelopes.

  Connor opened his envelope first. ‘I got Ronan!’ he shouted.

  Steve sighed. ‘Connor? Do you understand what secret means? It’s meant to be a secret who the present is from.’

  Connor blushed deep red. ‘Sorry, Steve.’

  Steve carried on giving out envelopes.

  Jake was delighted to get Ryan. He’d come to like him recently. He wanted to get him something really good.

  Yunis got Steve.

  Ryan got Tomasz.

  And James knew who he was going to get before he opened it, he just had a feeling. And he was right. His dad. Typical.

  Since all the attention he’d got after the game, James had been feeling bad. Yes, he’d scored. Yes, he’d played well. But it didn’t change anything. In fact, he was even more determined now to give up football after all the praise he’d had. Too many people had his life planned out for him and he wanted to plan it himself.

  He’d made up his mind.

  Posh Shopping

  They had to get the presents in a department store. Just the one shop, so there was no chance of getting lost on the streets.

  ‘Right, lads. You’ve got half an hour to choose a present and buy it. Do not leave the store. I will be here by the main doors the whole time. So if you need me, you know where I am.’

  The department store was big. And posh. The Christmas decorations were huge, massive silver and gold and red tinsel stars hanging down. Strings of lights were cascading like waterfalls.

  Jake and Yunis raced off to get their presents together.

  ‘Who’ve you got?’ Yunis asked.

  ‘You,’ replied Jake.

  ‘Really?’ Yunis said. ‘What are you going to get me?’

  ‘Some aftershave,’ Jake said, grinning.

  ‘What? No way,’ Yunis said. Then he saw Jake smiling. ‘Who have you really got?’

  ‘Ryan.’

  ‘I’ve got Steve,’ said Yunis.

  ‘Brilliant. What are you going to get him?’

  ‘Some carpet slippers? A pipe? A walking stick?’

  Yunis and Jake laughed as they headed up an escalator.

  As they did, they looked down and saw Craig. He was trying to walk up the escalator that was going downwards. A security guard was watching him, talking into his radio.

  ‘What’s he up to now?’ Yunis said to Jake.

  Jake shrugged. ‘Who knows?’

  ‘Let’s get those presents,’ Yunis said, turning to go upwards.

  James sat alone at the back of the coach, brooding. He’d not got his dad a present. The ten-pound note was still in its envelope, stuffed in his back pocket.

  He was unhappy. Unsettled. Un-everything.

  The thought of spending all evening with the rest of the team depressed him. He wanted to be alone, to think.

  He stared out of the window as the coach moved off. Shops and more shops. Christmas trees. And the ice rink – just round the corner from their accommodation.

  Three other lads were sitting near the back of the bus. They’d been with each other for most of the day. Craig, Daniel and Sam. They hadn’t noticed James two seats behind them.

  ‘Did you see that?’ Craig asked.

  ‘What?’

  ‘The ice rink?’

  ‘Yeah, I wish we could –’ Daniel began to say. But Craig interrupted him.

  ‘Let’s then,’ Craig said. ‘After they’ve all gone to bed. It was easy to get out last night. They’ll never think that we’d try it again. How about it?’

  ‘OK,’ said Daniel.

  Sam was less sure. ‘I can’t risk it. Steve will go nuts.’

  ‘He won’t find out,’ Craig said.

  ‘What if he does?’ Sam insisted. ‘I can’t.’

&nbs
p; ‘Suit yourself,’ Craig said.

  Then James was standing over him. Craig looked shocked and stared at James. James knew what he was thinking: that James had called his dad last night to get Craig into trouble.

  For a few seconds nobody said anything.

  ‘I suppose you’re going to split on us, James,’ Craig said. ‘Again.’

  ‘Not if you let me come with you,’ replied James.

  At first Craig looked surprised, as if he didn’t believe James. Then a smile crept across his face.

  ‘You’re on,’ he said.

  Thin Ice

  Ryan was too excited to sleep. He was going over the game in his mind: the defending he’d done with James, the penalty shoot-out. He wondered if he’d said the right things to the other players and if his firing them up had worked or not.

  Then he heard a noise.

  Running footsteps in the corridor.

  Ryan waited for a few seconds, then opened his door a crack.

  He saw three figures, all in coats. They were rushing, going down the stairs.

  At first he thought it could be some of the adults, heading off for a pint. But the figures were too small. It was either three of his team-mates or three strangers.

  Ryan pulled on his jeans and a T-shirt. He was captain of this team and he had to see what was going on. He had his suspicions about who he was about to follow. There was something about the figure in the middle that reminded him of someone.

  By the time he got down to the entrance hall by the canteen the main door had closed. Ryan breathed in. What now?

  Tell Steve?

  Follow them and get them to come back?

  Do nothing?

  Ryan was feeling good about being team captain and if he could stop some of his players doing something stupid he’d do it – before they got into any more trouble with Steve.

  Ryan opened the door to the street. There was a piece of card stuck to the lock. To keep it open, he realized. Whoever had gone out was expecting to come back in.