Page 76 of Playing By Ear
Jamie didn’t like Haggerty, but he wouldn’t wish such pressure on anyone. He reached for Ali’s hand, and they folded it into an iron grip.
Haggerty took a few steps back and planted his hands on his hips, staring at the ball. The whistle blew. He charged forward and sent his strike over Heather’s outstretched arms…and over the crossbar itself.
The crowd gasped as one.
“Was that a save?” Ali asked Jamie as the wayward ball rolled to a stop at the foot of the scoreboard sign. “Did Heather get a finger on it?”
“I think the poor guy just sky’ed it.” It was one thing to have your shot saved by a brilliant goalkeeper like Heather, but it was another level of humiliation to simply miss a gaping target from twelve yards away.
If the Warriors made the next shot, they’d win.
Charlotte had been bold to put the young Colin in the fifth spot or “hero position.” Then again, at twenty years old, he’d already endured a lifetime’s worth of drama, so maybe he was the most unshakeable of them all.
Colin, ever himself, practically skipped into the penalty area. He kissed the ball, set it in place, then backed up, his eyes glued to the goalkeeper.
“He’s got this, right?” Ali’s hand clutched Jamie’s so hard, it felt like they’d both break a bone.
“Our Colin’s a force of nature.” Jamie held his breath as the park went deathly silent. Even the away fans hushed.
The whistle blew. Colin’s shoulders went up and down once—whether in a shrug or a release of tension, Jamie couldn’t tell—then he strode forward as he’d done in training session, dragging his second step to alter his rhythm.
The goalkeeper fell for the fakeout, leaning to his left half a heartbeat too soon. Colin shot to his own left, so hard it seemed it would rip through both the net and the space-time continuum.
“Yaaaaaasssss!” Jamie and Ali sprinted for the center circle to join the victory romp. Colin zigzagged about the pitch, moving too fast for anyone to catch him in an embrace.
They’d done it. They’d really fucking done it, ripped the quarterfinal monkey off their back, chopped it into a hundred pieces, and buried it beneath the penalty spot.
Two booms in quick succession came from the Regiment. A spray of glittering rainbow confetti fluttered out over the pitch.
Jamie ran through the shimmering shower to the side of the stand. John hopped down and embraced Jamie quickly, emitting a yelp of joy before running off to find Fergus.
“It’s me!” Jamie told Perry as he slid into the space John had left.
“I know!” Perry hugged him hard. “This is massive.”
“I’m so happy you were here.”
“Me too.” Perry reached to take off his sunglasses, but Jamie stopped him.
“Leave them on. It’s too bright out. I can gaze into your eyes all I want back at your flat.”
Perry’s smile melted what was left of Jamie’s will. He kissed Perry hard, trying to convey every last scrap of joy and gratitude. They buried their hands in confetti-coated hair, and for a moment, the rest of the world ceased to exist.
Then Jamie pressed his forehead to Perry’s. “I’ll be back, pronto.”
The Warriors exchanged handshakes and back-pats with the dejected Balornock players, who were more gracious in defeat than they’d been in victory two years prior.
At their post-match briefing, Charlotte stood on the bench and beamed down at them. “Youse all got one night to enjoy this victory. Mind, there’s nae marathon medal for reaching the twenty-mile mark. Our goal is the Cup itself. Come the twenty-second of May, it’ll be us raising that fucking thing!”
They all shouted and hugged, then danced and sang next to the bench, arms around each other, one single body of joy.
At last they separated to gather their things. Jamie pulled on his jacket, chilly now that his fear-sweat was drying in the wind.
Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he found the piece of paper he’d put there this morning.
Ah, of course. He’d almost forgotten.
He headed toward Evan, who had just started his cool-down stretches near the touchline. He needed a favor from the private investigator/ex-spy, and he needed to ask in person.
