Page 15 of Playing the Game

Noah sighed. “I am a bit. I know we’ve done a ton of training this week. You never know what people are going to do until you get on the grass.”

When Jonas had come from Sweden to play for Canonbury, everything had been a culture shock. He supposed this wouldn’t be quite as drastic. He was still in the UK after all.

“Are you?” Tito asked him.

“Not nerves exactly,” Jonas replied. “Adam wants me, him and Udo to form an alliance on the pitch.”

They left the main town. The twisty lane led them through some woods.

“I would think that Adam is more bothered about the hundred grand you spent for him.”

Jonas winced. He’d gone over that interaction a million times.

Why the fuck did I do that?

“Ugh. Don’t remind me.”

Tito cackled. “Not the best way to get in with the captain.”

“How was I supposed to know he’d say a hundred grand?” Jonas replied. “I expected him to say ten at the most. Fuck’s sake. I think I’ll offer to pay it.”

The lane opened up. Large brick buildings were on both sides of them.

“I don’t know what came over me,” Jonas replied. “I got all in my head about everyone hating me because I’ve come from Canonbury.”

Tito burst out laughing. “So you gave them a better reason?”

The captain of the team had been noticeably keeping his distance from Jonas whenever they weren’t kicking a ball around.

Noah pulled into a car park. A huge building that appeared to be an old mill towered over them.

“This is it,” Noah said.

Large windows shone in the sunlight. Jonas got out and stared up. It didn’t appear all that impressive.

“I used to have a sea view,” he said. “Now it’s a supermarket.”

The other two got out and joined him.

“It might be nice inside,” Noah said. “It’s good of them to rent us anywhere.”

Tito produced some keys out of his pocket. “Let’s check it out.”

They followed Tito to the door. Jonas had done his research on the web. There were only ten apartments in the whole place.

“They must be pretty big,” he said.

Once inside, they climbed to the first floor.

“What number are you?” Noah asked Tito.

“Four.”

Noah pointed to a door right in front of them.

“Jonas?”

“I’m nine. You?”