Chapter Five: Chicken

Eve found herself in an Uber a few hours later, her nerves increasing as the taxi neared the address she’d been spent, not knowing what to expect. She’d almost backed out of dinner with Greta, her husband, and someone called Mateo. Because she and Greta had only ever exchanged a few words and probably only had one thing in common - football. 

Once she'   d got back to her apartment after the game, her phone had made her immediately aware of a worldie of a goal scored by Kate in Hanmore’s pre-season friendly which they had been playing at the same time as Real Martinez’s friendly. In comparison, Hanmore’s stands looked almost full. The goal had been replayed numerous times on social media and high praise was being rained down on her ex-girlfriend. It was impossible to avoid the images of Kate’s rocket shot and Sam jumping into her arms in celebration. It had been on every post, tweet and reel, and so she had put her phone in a drawer and ignored it for two full hours. She'd also had a little cry on her small balcony before pulling herself together. 

Greta had probably cleaned, shopped, and cooked for her. It wouldn’t have been fair to cancel so late, as much as Eve had been tempted to fake an illness or emergency. And so, she'd begun to get ready, without enthusiasm. Her wardrobe was limited. Luckily, having stopped at the Supermercado for wine and flowers on her way home, she’d also found a plain, smart white shirt that looked good over a vest top, and with the jeans she’d worn on the flight over.    

The Uber dropped her outside a smart one-story flat-roofed house. Eve had been worried that flowers were a bit too much, but when Greta answered the door, the bouquet was taken off her with much enthusiasm and thanks, as was the wine. She was ushered into a big open plan living area that was still somehow cosy. A glass of cold, crisp white was pressed into her hands. She was then ushered out onto a deck in a small garden that had a distant view of the sea. 

‘Wow. Why didn’t I demand this kind of place from the club?’ 

Greta laughed and clinked her glass against Eve’s. ‘This is ours, me and Eduardo, nothing to do with the club. They put me in one of those high boxes you have now when I first come, but I meet him and everything changed.’ 

Edwardo was in their stylish kitchen area, a tea towel slung over his shoulder preparing something that smelled delicious. He was young, bare-footed, mustachioed and friendly. Eve watched as he paused in his stirring and chopping to greet a toddler who bounded, squealing into the room, a cuddly toy dinosaur clutched in his chubby fist. 

‘And this is Matteo,’ Greta said, as Mateo ran around his father, giggling at being chased, and headed straight to his mother who gathered him up in her arms. ‘Matteo, say hello to Mama’s new teammate, Eve.’ 

Matteo smiled shyly and ducked his head into his mother’s neck. He was dark haired, dark skinned and as cherubic as any toddler Eve had ever seen. 

‘We’re still working on the English,’ Greta told her. ‘He’s got the Spanish and German down though, if you speak any of those?’ 

‘No. I struggle with English and I am English. You had a baby, and came back to playing? That’s amazing.’ 

‘People do it,’ Greta laughed.  

‘Not many. It’s incredible.’ 

‘What is incredible is the female body,’ said Greta. ‘We endure.’ The doorbell rang and Greta held a finger in the air. ‘Ah, this will be Lucia.’ 

Eve’s heart sank. Since arriving, Eve had relaxed somewhat, her nerves had abated. She’d imagined an evening of polite conversation, eating some good pasta and saying goodbye to this seemingly very nice couple at about ten o’clock. She hadn’t counted on there being other guests, especially one who seemingly hated the sight of her.  

While Greta was opening the door to Lucia, Eduardo left his kitchen duties to come and top Eve’s wine glass up, even though she’d only had two sips. ‘My wife, she must welcome all the new players,’ he said. 

‘That’s nice. This is nice of her,’ Eve replied. Eduardo was spectacularly handsome. Even she, a woman who had never craved a man, never even been tempted by one, saw his appeal. ‘She’s kind. And a good player.’ 

‘Yes, I like watch, Matteo, me, we go the matches, but I have restaurant too.’ 

‘Oh, you’re a proper chef, with a restaurant?’ 

He laughed. ‘Yes, corner.’ He gestured, in such a way that Eve immediately understood. 

‘Oh, the place on the corner, by my apartment. I haven’t been there yet.’ 

‘This how I meet Greta.’ 

‘That makes sense,’ Eve said nodding. ‘I should try it. I can’t cook.’ 

‘First meal free, no more, then I charge, my family, yes, I provide?’ 

Eve laughed and took a sip of the wine before her gaze was drawn to Lucia, who had now been admitted. Rather than bearing wine, she had brought a fluffy green dinosaur that she held out to Matteo. He snatched it up gratefully. Lucia crouched down to his level and asked him lots of questions in Spanish before they eventually high-fived. 

Lucia declined wine at first, before a sideways glance at Eve, and then changed her mind. She accepted a huge glass of red. Eve sank into one of the comfy deck chairs, feeling deflated. Obviously, she was the kind of person that another person needed alcohol to endure an evening with. She looked away and shuffled her feet when Lucia came out onto the deck, wondering what they would say. In the end though, there was no need for any awkward greeting because Matteo bounded out behind Lucia and stuck to her like glue, leaning against her, bringing her out toys and puzzles that sat in a box at the edge of the deck for her to admire. Greta and Eduardo flitted between the kitchen, the dining table and the deck, before announcing that it was Matteo’s bedtime. 

The small boy did not complain and was whisked off for a round of stories, teeth and bed and was not heard from again.  

‘He is tired from running on the sand all day,’ Greta said. ‘And you are very good with him,’ she said to Lucia as they sat down to eat. Eduardo laid the starters in front of them. There were prawns and garlic, butter, and fresh bread. Eve wondered if she’d ever smelled anything so pure before.  

‘You must want children?’ Greta asked Lucia. 

‘Si, who does not?’ 

‘Loads of people don’t.’ Eve added, which earned her a look from everyone at the table. 

‘Is not so easy, maybe, for me to have,’ Lucia said, ‘but I would like. In Spain, family is everything.’  

Eduardo nodded.   

‘We risk the bad tempers of the Abuelas if we do not give them many grandchildren to fuss over,’ Greta said. 

It suddenly occurred to Eve that they were all speaking English to appease her. She imagined Greta, after so many years in Spain, could have chatted away in Spanish to Eduardo and Lucia easily. All the international players who had come to Hanmore over the years had arrived with at least a smattering of English, and had then gone on to learn more, until they were practically fluent.   

‘He wants another,’ Greta pointed to Eduardo, ‘but I if we do that now then football is done for me, and i am not quite sure I am ready to give it up just yet.’ 

‘No rush, my love.’ Eduardo said, easily. He smiled at his wife before leaving the table and returning with a main dish of chicken and vegetables in a big earthenware pot and a side dish of spicy potatoes. It was tasty that Eve reckoned she could have finished it all on her own on a particularly hungry day. They talked of football, of Spain, and of Germany and England, until the plates were empty and the sun had gone down on the deck.   

Eve’s offer to help clear up was waved away. ‘Go outside, with Lucia, we will be out in a bit.’ 

Pretty little solar lights had come on in the garden now that darkness had descended. Lucia was staring out at them, or into nothing, with the same intense expression that Eve had seen her wear that first night in Spain, when she’d been out on her balcony, and Eve had been on hers. 

‘Hanmore they win friendly too, today,’ Lucia said as Eve approached, without turning around. 

‘Yep.’ 

‘I see a clip of goal, Kate Stanland, nice shot.’ 

Eve chewed on her bottom lip. Was Lucia deliberately taunting her? Did she know about her and Kate, and the whole Sam saga? If so, it seemed especially mean to bring it up. She took a deep breath. ‘Yeah, it was a worldie,’ Eve said, her voice breaking a little. 

‘Si, not as good as my butt goal though.’ 

Eve laughed, despite herself. Lucia’s shoulders relaxed and she turned. Her handsome face softened into a smile. 

‘At least you got to play, I don’t think the coach likes me,’ Eve said. ‘I don’t think you like me,’ she added.  

Lucia’s face darkened and her jaw tensed up. ‘Not all things are about you.’ 

Eve frowned in confusion, but Greta appeared again before she could respond, and the conversation turned to lighter subjects. They swapped funny football stories until it got late, and Greta let out a yawn.  

Lucia said something to her in Spanish, and Greta nodded. ‘Yes, a busy day but I am not rushing you.’ 

‘I should order an Uber,’ Eve replied. ‘Doing all this for us, the kid, the match and everything. You must be knackered.’ 

Everyone laughed and looked at each other in confusion.  

‘What’s this word?’ Greta asked. ‘I never heard it before.’ 

‘Knackered? You know like proper tired, brain tired, bones tired, all done.’ 

‘Okay, and you got an Uber here?’  

‘Yeah, why?’ 

‘Is a walk, ten minutes,’ Lucia said, getting up out of her chair. ‘Come, I show you.’ 

After saying goodbye to Greta and Eduardo, they left, and she and Lucia walked silently to the end of the road. Then they ducked between two houses where a narrow path took them up some steps. Eve realised it was a shortcut right through the heart of the town. When they reached the top of them, she turned to admire the warm yellow moon that had settled over the rooftops.  

‘Hang on. The apartments are that way, right? I can see that church from my balcony.’ 

‘Si,’ Lucia said. She pointed to another set of steps. ‘We go up here and be back.’ 

‘No! You mean I'm living that close to the sea? I like walking. I could have walked any day since I've been here, to the beach, that quickly?’ 

‘Si. Where you been walking?’ 

‘The Supermacardo.’ 

Lucia’s gaze dropped down to Eve’s shirt. ‘Ah yes, I have this.’ She tugged at the end of Eve’s shirt. ‘Was in with the toast makers and bats and balls.’ 

They started up the next set of steps.  

‘Why you here, Eve Middleton? Why Real Martinez?’ Lucia asked quietly. 

Eve felt a rush of anger, and then just sadness. Ninety-nine per cent of women’s football knew what had driven her away from Hanmore, but this girl seemingly didn’t. A quick glance at Lucia’s earnest face told her she wasn’t fishing for gossip; she genuinely didn’t know. ‘Kate Sandler was my girlfriend. She’s now Sam O’Brien’s girlfriend.’ 

Lucia stopped on the steps and let out a low whistle. ‘Same team!’ 

‘I’m not the first person in the world to be dumped, won’t be the last,’ Eve said with a shrug. 

‘They cheat?’ Lucia asked after they had started climbing again. 

The stairs were steep. Eve didn’t say anything until she’d reached the top. She was blowing a little. They were on their street now, almost at the complex where they would part ways and disappear into their separate but identical apartments. ‘No, yes, maybe, probably.’ She shrugged. ‘Does it matter? Same result in the end; like football, you can argue about bad decisions, missed chances, fouls, but you either win or you don’t. And I lost.’ 

Lucia looked thoughtful and for a moment Eve thought she hadn’t understood what she’d said, but then, she cocked her head to the side. ‘Sometimes, you has to lose to know how beautiful is to win,’ she said before she made a little motion with her hand that was half wave and half salute and walked away into the darkness.