Katie's Big Match Page 8

  “Mum, Katie’s been working for this for weeks and weeks,” Annabel tried to explain. “Even I was quite excited about it – and you know how I feel about football.”

  Mum sighed. “Oh, I know. I was just trying to make you all see that it really isn’t as bad as it could have been. I mean, if Katie had broken her leg she’d have been out of the rest of the season – there are more matches scheduled, aren’t there?”

  “Yes, but this is the important one!” Katie exclaimed.

  Mrs Ryan looked at her normally sensible Katie and realized that now just wasn’t the time. “Well, anyway. Let’s get you home. I want to ring that Max’s parents and make sure they know how much trouble he’s caused.”

  The hospital had recommended that Katie try to walk as little as possible for the moment, so when they got home she lay on the sofa, with all the pillows and duvets and hot water bottles that Becky and Annabel could find. Mrs Ryan just sighed and let them get on with it; they seemed to be enjoying themselves in a grim sort of way, even Katie. Annabel was behaving as though Katie wasn’t long for this world, and adoring the drama, and Becky was treating her sister as if a rather large stray kitten had turned up on the doorstep and needed fussing over. Mrs Ryan had a horrible feeling that when the dramatic excitement of the situation had worn off they were all going to become terribly upset, obviously Katie most of all, and she really wasn’t looking forward to it.

  Quite soon after they got home, Megan phoned to see how Katie was. She was properly horrified by the news. “Oh, Katie! I was hoping you were going to say they’d given you something to sort it out. I can’t believe you won’t be able to play tomorrow.” She stopped suddenly when she realized she wasn’t exactly being tactful, and then added, “I could kill Max!” in a vicious tone of voice.

  “Me too,” said Katie sadly. “Mum wants to phone up his dad and have a go at him, but I’m trying to persuade her not to. I’d rather kill him myself.”

  “Anyway I’d better go, Katie, my mum’s calling me for tea. Look, I’ll see you on Monday.”

  “Uh-uh. I’m coming to watch tomorrow. I’m not missing the final, even if I can’t play in it.”

  Becky and Annabel exchanged glances – they had a feeling Mum wasn’t going to be too happy about that…

  Katie rang off and slumped back on her cushions, looking tired, and when the phone rang again she didn’t answer it, even though it was lying on the back of the sofa next to her. She felt too gloomy. Becky, who was perched on the arm of the sofa at her feet, looking at her worriedly, had to reach for it.

  “Hello?”

  The person on the other end sounded rather embarrassed. “Um, hi, is that Katie?”

  “No, it’s Becky, who is it please? Do you want to speak to Katie?”

  “Um, it’s David? From school. Hi. I was just ringing to see if your sister was OK. Er, is she?” David sounded as though he was getting more flustered by the minute, and Becky felt sorry for him. She should have been nicer to him earlier on. She made her voice a bit more friendly as she replied, and Annabel raised her eyebrows at Katie, who was looking intrigued.

  “Oh hi. No, she’s not really, she’s torn a muscle in her leg so she can’t play tomorrow, but she hasn’t actually broken anything.”

  “Who is it?” hissed Katie irritably, feeling that Becky was stealing her phone call and making a vague grab for the phone which Becky easily evaded. “Shall I put Katie on? I’m sure she’d like to talk to you.”

  “Oh – oh yes, OK.” David sounded as though he would have preferred to keep talking to Becky. She vaguely assumed he found Katie a bit scary – some people did. She handed the phone over. “It’s David.”

  “Hi?” said Katie enquiringly.

  David was obviously finding it difficult talking to someone that a member of his team had attempted to cripple an hour or so before.

  “Hi Katie. I was just ringing to see how you were. And to apologize for that moron. I’m really sorry – it was a good game until then, you played really well. All the girls did.”

  “Thanks,” said Katie, only a little bit grudgingly.

  “Um, anyway. I hope you feel better soon. OK? Bye!” And he rang off in a hurry.

  “Wasn’t that nice of him?” asked Becky in a pleased sort of voice.

  “Hmmm.” Katie sounded exhausted, and when Mum, who’d been gently eavesdropping from the kitchen, suggested that she went to bed, she agreed almost without arguing.

  The next morning, Katie’s leg wasn’t feeling any better, and she was having a hard time being sensible and well-behaved about it. It hurt, and the crutches were a total nuisance, and she couldn’t stop thinking about the final that afternoon.

  Becky stopped hovering around the sofa after Katie had carefully (and obviously) restrained herself from snapping something rude when Becky asked her for the third time in half an hour if she needed anything, and went to find Annabel. She was in their room trying out a very complicated hair braid that was in one of her magazines, but it wasn’t going right and she didn’t mind an excuse to give up.

  “Do you think we should tell Katie about the scrapbook for Dad?” asked Becky, flumping down on her bed. “If she ever needed cheering up it’s now.”

  Annabel looked thoughtful. “Well, it’s either going to make her feel better or loads worse. I think it’ll probably make her feel good though.”

  “Mmmm.” Becky nodded. “I’ll get the printout.”

  They had been going to give Katie the printout of all their photos and bits after the final, so it was all ready. They’d added the photos and the video of yesterday’s match too, and sent them off to Dad, although of course the video just looked like a still photo on the printout. It was still on the phone though. They’d shown it to Mum – it had made her even more determined to phone Max’s dad.

  They headed downstairs with the sheaf of paper, and peeped round the living-room door. Katie was reading a football magazine, or staring at it anyway. She looked really down, and Becky and Annabel exchanged glances – this was definitely worth a try.

  Katie looked up. “I’m OK, honestly! I don’t need anything!” she said exasperatedly.

  “We’ve brought you something anyway,” said Annabel, grinning at her a bit nervously. “Look.” And she removed the magazine and stuffed the printout into Katie’s hands.

  Katie leafed through it idly, then her attention was caught. She read a few sentences of one of Becky’s match reports. “Hey, what is this?”

  “It’s a photo-diary,” said Becky.

  “Like you get for really famous football players, photos of them when they were little, and stuff,” added Annabel. “We’ve been sending it to Dad.”

  “Dad’s seen it?”

  “He thinks it’s brilliant, Katie,” said Becky, crawling carefully on to the sofa next to her. “He thinks you’re brilliant.”

  “He emailed this morning, after he saw the latest bits – he wants to tear Max limb from limb. Look” – Annabel brought out her phone and pressed the video replay – “you can see why.”

  Katie watched, fascinated, as Max tripped her all over again.

  “How long have you been doing this?”

  “Just a couple of weeks. Since you were so upset about him not being there at the quarter-final,” explained Becky. “Now that you know about it, it can be much better – Dad wants you to add bits, about what it was all like. He said there’s no way it’s as good as being there, but it’s the next best thing.”

  When Mum came in to mention lunch, she found all three of them curled up on the sofa, carefully avoiding Katie’s leg, and giggling as they looked at the photos – Katie’s face tended to be quite funny when she was really concentrating.

  Over lunch they explained to Mum what had been happening, and pointed out the best pictures.

  “This is great! You two are dark horses, keepin
g this a secret!” she exclaimed, flicking through it.

  Becky and Annabel exchanged smug looks, and Katie looked at her watch.

  “I’d better go and get dressed,” she said, bolting the last of her toasted sandwich, and grabbing her crutches.

  “Dressed?” Mrs Ryan put down the scrapbook pages. “Why, darling? You don’t need to, really.”

  “Mum, I’m not going to school in my pyjamas!”

  “School? Oh no – Katie, no. You are not going to watch that match, I’m sorry, but the doctor said—”

  “Mum! I have to go! It’s the final, I’ve got to see it – and if I’m on my crutches and I’m careful, it’ll be fine. Please!”

  Mrs Ryan glared at her, but she could see how determined Katie was on this, and she didn’t really want to stop her – she’d actually behaved amazingly well about her leg, and her mother could just imagine what the fallout would have been if something like this had happened to Annabel. She shuddered. “All right. I’ll take you in the car. But we’re coming straight home afterwards!”

  “Yes! Thanks, Mum!” and Katie lurched round the table to kiss her.

  Mrs Ryan smiled grudgingly and turned to Becky and Annabel. “You two, help her up the stairs – we haven’t got loads of time.”

  By the time they got to school the match had already started – it had taken Katie longer than she’d expected to get dressed, even with help. Becky, Annabel and Mum hovered carefully round Katie as she limped her way over to the field. There were lots of parents and friends watching, and Megan’s parents made sympathetic noises when they saw the state of Katie. Someone came up next to Becky, and grinned shyly.

  “Hello – I was hoping you’d be here – er, all of you, I mean. I, um, wanted to see if Katie was OK,” David said awkwardly.

  “That’s really sweet of you.” Becky beamed at him. And then Katie demanded, “How’s the match going?” and he went into football mode, and started to explain every step anyone on the pitch had taken so far, as Annabel observed to her mother disgustedly.

  After about five minutes Mrs Ross noticed them, and at half-time (with either side yet to score, Katie noted worriedly) she came over. She was beaming, and she greeted Katie delightedly.

  “Katie – I’m so glad you came! I really wanted Mr Terry here to have a chance to meet you. He’s seen you play a couple of times, and he thinks you might be able to try out for the county girls’ squad – he’s their coach.”

  It was one of the few things that could have made up for missing out on the final – to be one of the best players in the county! Katie was so excited that she was completely tongue-tied, but Mr Terry was very nice, and very sympathetic about her leg. He arranged a time with Mum for her to come along to one of their practices, and then they settled down to watching the rest of the match. Katie was so pleased that she could almost enjoy watching without being upset that she wasn’t playing herself.

  Her team were playing so well, it was actually quite fun to have a chance to watch them. Especially as they were playing another good team, St Felix, and the two sides were really well-matched. Megan managed some fantastic saves, and Katie was glad that Mr Terry was still watching. He certainly looked quite impressed.

  But it was still nil-nil five minutes from the end, and Katie wondered worriedly whether it would be a penalty shoot-out – poor Megan! But luckily Sarah managed a sneaky goal, practically as the referee was about to blow his whistle, and just when the other team were obviously starting to think they were going to have to go to penalties and had stopped concentrating quite so hard.

  The Manor Hill team were ecstatic, jumping about and hugging each other, and Katie suddenly felt really miserable again. OK, things had turned out a lot better than she’d expected from today, but she still wasn’t part of this. Then Sarah and Megan rushed over and grabbed her. The referee had produced a very impressive-looking silver trophy from somewhere and Mrs Ross was waving at them to line up. She grinned as she saw Katie there too. The whole team were given medals on really smart stripy ribbons, and then the referee invited the team captain to come and get the trophy. Sarah started forward, and then came back and put her arm carefully under Katie’s.

  “Come on! You so should have been playing, come and get it with me!”

  They snail’s-paced up to the referee, and everybody cheered when they eventually got there. Katie looked round, grinning, and saw Becky and Annabel jumping up and down like mad things in-between taking yet more photos, and Mum smiling proudly. Dad wasn’t there, but thanks to Becky and Annabel she knew he was thinking about her, and missing her too. They’d won! She couldn’t wait to get home and tell him. Maybe she hadn’t been able to play, but suddenly Katie felt it didn’t matter. Everyone was hugging her, as though she was a heroine.

  “Well done, Katie!”

  “Are you feeling OK?”

  “Did you see that save just after half-time?”

  “When can you play again?”

  And someone with curly brown hair in bunches was hugging her a bit gingerly, and saying how good it was she was there. Katie smiled at Cara – she had a feeling this truce wouldn’t last long once they were all back at school on Monday, but just for the moment, it didn’t matter!

  HOLLY has always loved animals. As a child, she had two dogs, a cat, and at one point, nine gerbils (an accident). Holly’s other love is books. Holly now lives in Reading with her husband, three sons and a very spoilt cat.

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  First published in the UK by Scholastic Ltd, 2004

  This electronic edition published by Scholastic Ltd, 2014

  Text copyright © Holly Webb, 2004

  Cover illustration copyright © Michelle Breen, 2014

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  eISBN 978 1407 14742 0

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