Chapter 33

Garry and Polly entered the kitchen hand in hand. Steven noted with relief that Garry was standing upright again and that he had lost the pallor in his cheeks. He smiled warmly at him. Becca turned from the hob, smiled and held out her arms. Garry went to her and she held him close.

"I want to hear everything, sweetie," she said softly, "but the first priority is a stiff drink." She released him giving him a soft kiss on the lips as she did so.

Steven had anticipated her and handed Garry a whisky and soda. Garry sipped it tentatively.

"Mm," he said. "I'll have to get used to the taste but I like the warmth as it goes down."

"What about you, Polly love? Your usual or something stronger?"

Polly smiled at him. "My wicked Uncle Steven tempting me. Could I have a gin and tonic?"

Steven smiled back. "Coming up," he said.

It was not a dinner that would normally have merited wine but Steven thought it might help keep Garry's spirits up so opened a bottle.

There was some small talk and then they sat down to eat.

"Right, Garry love," said Becca, "tell us."

Garry did and there was a long silence.

"That's sickening, Garry," said Steven.

Garry nodded.

"But it's not the end of the world," said Becca.

"That's what I said," interjected Polly.

"No," said Garry, "it's not because Polly's going to stick with me."

Becca smiled at him. "Did you think she wouldn't?"

Garry nodded.

"Poop!"

Garry nodded again.

"Well don't let's start sweating on that now. It's a sickening disappointment for you, Garry dear, but we'll all think a great deal more clearly in the morning. So tell us what it was like meeting all those stars."

Garry did so.

Polly looked at him with shining eyes. "And they were all friendly with you. That's brilliant."

"They all came to say goodbye and sorry too," said Garry. "Every single one of them."

"Oh, Garry," she breathed. "They must really have liked you and thought a lot of you." Her heart filled with pride.

They did not dally after dinner. Garry was clearly exhausted emotionally and physically. Polly led him upstairs. Becca rang Molly.

"This is getting to be a habit," grumbled Molly good naturedly.

"Be gentle with her, love. There's been a major crisis. Let her tell you in her own good time."

"OK, Becca love. I thought there might be trouble if Garry was home this evening."

The story hit the national press and by half past eight the following morning the drive and the road outside was packed with press and television crews.

"Strewth!" said Garry. "What do we do now?"

"You ring United and ask them to send their press officer over straight away," answered Steven putting the front door chain in place. "I suspect someone else will have already called the police to complain about the road being obstructed.

Garry did so. He spoke to Mr Kimmering who first of all commiserated with him and then promised to send Roy Keene, the press officer, over straight away.

It was not long before the front doorbell rang. Steven answered it with the chain still in place. He patiently explained three times that there would be no interviews until the United press officer arrived. He then firmly shut the door again.

The police arrived ten minutes later and some semblance of order and calm was achieved. The sergeant in charge knocked on the door. Steven met him and let him in.

"Do you want to speak to them or would you like us to send them away?" he asked Garry.

"No," replied Garry, "but I can't not really. The press officer from United's on his way."

"OK, sir, and I'm very sorry to hear about your bad luck."

Garry smiled his thanks and the sergeant left.

It took three quarters of an hour for Roy Keene to make it and a further quarter to answer the questions from the press. He managed to break away from them with a promise to let them see Garry.

Steven let him in and Roy introduced himself. He could see that Garry was very nervous and became even more so when Roy confirmed that he had to speak to the press or they would never go. Garry clutched Polly's hand even more tightly.

Roy rehearsed questions he knew the press would ask. "Keep it short and if they try to draw you out into other things like who's going to make the England squad just tell them that that's up to Alf Ramsey. Don't give your views on anyone else's performance."

"Can Polly come with me?"

"That's up to you two. If she does there'll be questions about your engagement and when you plan to get married and so on. If you don't want to answer just say 'No Comment'."

Garry looked at Polly questioningly. She did not want to face the mob any more than he did but she could not let him go out there alone. She nodded and was relieved and pleased to see Garry's face clear.

They went outside and the pack surged forward. Camera lights flashed and there a chorus of questions. Roy held up his hand until he got silence.

"One at a time, please."

A hand went up and Roy pointed.

"What's wrong with you, Garry?"

"Mitral stenosis."

"What does that mean?

"That I can't take the vigorous exercise that first class football needs."

"Does that mean you're retiring?"

"I'm afraid so."

"How do you feel?"

"Very sad."

"What are you going to do now?"

"I haven't made up my mind."

"Will you go back to carpentry?"

"Might do?"

"Were you going to be in the final squad?"

"Ask Mr Ramsey."

"Is this going to affect your marriage plans?"

"No."

"When are you getting married?"

"We haven't picked a date yet."

"How do you feel, Polly?"

"Sad and disappointed."

So it went on. Slowly the reporters realised that there was nothing special going to come out of it all and began to move off. Roy brought the whole business to an end and the three of them went gratefully back into the house. Polly pulled Garry's head down and gave him a quick kiss.

"Well, done, darling," she said.

"And you, my love. Thanks for being there with me."

Polly offered Roy coffee but he declined and left having also told Garry he had done well.

The four of them collected in the kitchen for coffee. Edward played in his playpen and Elizabeth was out in her pram. They started to discuss the future. The return to carpentry was clearly an option.

"Have you got any vacancies, Uncle Steven?" Garry asked.

"Sort of but you haven't any experience of our type of work nor have you ever done any unarmed combat."

"I could learn."

"Well if you're keen enough I could get you on a self-defence course and then I could attach you as and when to some of my people to pick up the sleuthing skills."

"I am keen."

"OK. Good for you."

"Is it dangerous?" asked Polly anxiously.

"Very seldom. There's really no more risk than getting run down by a car."

"Good!"

Unbeknownst to them there was much activity at United's headquarters.

Will Barnes had gone to see Mr Kimmering as soon as he got in having read the morning paper.

"I know it's really none of my business," he said, "but I did bring Garry in as an apprentice and he has continued to impress me. What are you planning to do about him?"

Mr Kimmering smiled. "It sounds as though we're both on the same side," he said. "Not only was he a very talented player but he always gave his all and I'm not going to desert him. He's on a three year contract and there's no let out clause for us as regards illness or injury so he'll retain his income for another year. After that I hope to persuade the board that they should do the same as they did for Kevin Routledge and give him a pension of half his pay."

"Good idea but Kevin was with us for ten years."