Extra Time (14 page)

Jim opened the front door, his eyes immediately meeting those of the young man standing on the doorstep. Tall, with short dark hair and piercing green eyes set in a handsome face, he reminded Jim of himself twenty years ago.

‘Well, you gonna let me in or leave me standing out here all night?’

Jim stood aside, indicating to his visitor to come in. ‘Go through to the living room.’

Closing the door, Jim leaned back against it, closing his eyes and taking a long, deep breath. He needed a couple of seconds to gather his thoughts, compose himself, because what was happening here was something he should have sorted out a long time ago. But he’d let it go too far, left it so late that he didn’t really know how to handle it all now. Even though he’d known it had only been a matter of time before it all came to a head. He’d had twenty years to prepare for this, so why did he feel so out of control?

He walked into the living room, looking up to see his young visitor standing by the large bay window, looking out at the view of the North Sea. ‘Nice place you’ve got here,’ he said, shoving his hands in his pockets, turning round to face Jim. ‘I like it. I wouldn’t mind a place like this one day.’

‘Work hard and you’ll get there.’

‘I intend to work hard. That’s why I’m here.’

Jim walked over to the sideboard, pouring himself a small measure of brandy. ‘Do you want one?’ he asked, out of politeness more than anything, because the last thing he should be offering this man tonight was alcohol.

‘No, thanks. Not supposed to touch that stuff the night before, you know how it is.’

Jim said nothing, turning his back for a second as he took a sip of the warm, dark liquid. Yeah, he knew exactly how it was.

He turned round, having taken a couple more seconds to compose himself again. ‘So, how come you were allowed out?’

‘We don’t have the same stringent rules that you do at your club. The boss lets us stay home the night before a game. Well, the night before a home game, anyway. I guess my new club places a lot more trust in us than you do your guys.’

‘It’s not a matter of trust,’ Jim said, looking the young man straight in the eyes. ‘It’s a matter of making sure everyone is focused. Are
you
focused on tomorrow?’

The young man shrugged. ‘I guess so. I’m excited, I know that much. And glad that all the paperwork came through in time to allow me to play tomorrow, because it was hit and miss for a while there.’

Jim took another sip of brandy, his eyes still fixed on his visitor. ‘It’s good to see you. I really mean that. With everything that’s happened over the past year or so it’s been difficult for me to get away, to get back over to the States, and… Look, I know things are complicated, and I know we’ve still got a lot to talk about, but…’

‘Mom said you’d freak out if I signed for an English club.’

‘I’m not freaking out, Brandon…’

‘You still haven’t told her about me, though, have you? Your new wife. She still has no idea who I am. And in her line of work I would have thought it was only a matter of time before the truth came out. Surely you’d prefer to tell her yourself?’

Jim sat down on the arm of a nearby chair, draining his glass of the remaining brandy. ‘It’s not that simple…’

‘
Why
isn’t it that simple? Huh? You see, I don’t get it. Not really. Everyone has baggage, everyone has a past. So what if you’ve got a son? Is she really gonna think that’s such big news?’

Jim sighed heavily, pushing a hand through his hair. ‘Listen, Brandon. When I say it isn’t that simple, I really mean that. Amber and I… yeah, we’ve both got baggage, we’ve both got a past, but the thing is, that past, it… both of us… I had an affair with her, Brandon. With Amber. When she was just sixteen years old, and I was a player at Newcastle Red Star.’

Brandon raised his eyebrows in surprise, leaning back against the windowsill, folding his arms. ‘You did, huh? So the reputation you had back then as a player was true, was it?’

Jim looked at his son – his twenty-year-old, professional football-playing son. The son nobody but a handful of people knew about, and one of those wasn’t Amber. He was a secret Jim really shouldn’t have kept, but he had. He’d never mentioned Brandon to anyone, and he didn’t even know why, he’d just assumed it would be better that way. Better for who, though? Better for him? Had he let his own selfishness jeopardise everything, again?

‘Amber and I, our relationship – our past relationship, it’s complicated…’

‘You’re telling me. She was sixteen years old, Dad.’

‘She’s the only woman…’ Jim paused for a second as memories of a past he couldn’t seem to escape from invaded his head. ‘I love her, Brandon. I love her so much it physically hurts sometimes.’

‘Then doesn’t she deserve to know the truth? Didn’t she deserve to know the truth from the start?’

Jim pushed both hands through his hair, looking down at the ground for a second or two. ‘Like I said, Brandon – it’s complicated.’

‘I just don’t get it, Dad. If you love her half as much as you say you do – if you care about her, then why did you hide my existence from her? Or is it just that you’ve let the lie grow so big that you’re now scared she’s going to freak out big time? Is that it? Because you can’t hide this any longer, you do know that, don’t you?’

Jim said nothing. What
could
he say? This was a mess
he’d
created, something he’d let get this far out of hand. And now it was up to him to try and limit the inevitable fallout.

‘Maybe if you’d been completely honest with her from the start then you wouldn’t be in this mess,’ Brandon said.

‘Yes, thanks, I’m aware of that.’ Jim sighed again. ‘But…’ He looked over at Brandon. ‘Look, I… I didn’t just walk straight back into her life and pick up where we’d left off all those years ago. It wasn’t that simple. When I came back up here, back up north, she didn’t even want to be in the same room as me to begin with, so believe me when I say this, I had to fight to get her to love me again, and I had to fight real hard, Brandon. I had to fight real hard to get her to trust me…’

‘But she’d be right, wouldn’t she? She’d be right
not
to trust you.’

‘I never meant for it all to get this far, you have to believe me. That’s the truth. I was always gonna tell her about you, at some point, but when I got word through that you’d signed for Wearside Spartans, I panicked. I know you’d mentioned you were in talks with an English club, and I should have been more prepared, but… I wasn’t ready, I just wasn’t. And I couldn’t just come out with it, could I? After all this time. I couldn’t just suddenly tell her that I had a twenty-year-old son.’

‘Why not? Because that’s exactly what you’re gonna have to do now. I’m tired of being your dirty little secret, Dad. I’m tired of denying who I really am, who I want to be. I want to be your son, don’t you get that?’

‘You’re not my “dirty little secret”, Brandon, come on…’

‘You should have told her.’

‘I know that. I know… Jesus…’ Jim stood up, walking back over to the sideboard to pour himself another drink. ‘The timing, it’s… it’s not good. We’re trying for a baby of our own right now and…’

‘Then I would’ve thought this was the perfect time to let her know that daddy duties aren’t exactly something you’re new to.’

Jim sat back down on the arm of the chair, clutching his drink. ‘Look, I know I haven’t exactly been the best dad in the world, but I’ve always tried to do what I think is best for you, Brandon, even though I’ve been so far away from you for most of your life. I’ve tried to do what I thought was right…’

‘She needs to know, Dad. And she needs to know now. The time for pretending is up, it’s over. I did as you asked for twenty years and I think that was long enough, don’t you? I don’t want to do it anymore, and I don’t think I should have to. I’m proud to be your son, and I’m only here, doing what I love, playing soccer for a living, because of you. Because I inherited your talent, I got that from
you
and I want to let everyone know that. I don’t want to hide away in the shadows and lie anymore. And it isn’t my fault that you can’t tell the truth. That isn’t my fault.’

What could Jim say? Brandon was right. He was this bright young talent from America, someone everyone was talking about right now, and it didn’t take a genius to work out that, no matter how much Jim wanted it to remain a secret – that Brandon Palmer was his son – it couldn’t stay that way. Brandon was right, none of this was his fault and if he wanted to tell the world who he really was, then he had every right to do that. But it was up to Jim to make sure that Amber heard the truth from him – she’d found out enough bad news through the press in the past, he didn’t want to put her through that again.

‘You can’t hide me away forever,’ Brandon went on. ‘Look, I want this to be a new start for us, don’t you see? This is why I came here, to England. Why I chose to play for Wearside Spartans. I did that because I wanted to be nearer to you. Because I want a new start for both of us.’

‘And I want that, too, Brandon. More than anything. But… can’t you just give me a little more time? Please? Just a little more time.’

Brandon leaned back against the windowsill, letting out a frustrated sigh. ‘You’ve got to tell her, Dad. Before she finds out for herself. Because, after what you’ve just told me, that would be nothing short of worst-case scenario. And if you love her half as much as you say you do, then I’m sure you don’t want that to happen.’

Once again, Jim knew Brandon was right. Of course he was right. And yes, he should have told Amber about him from the start, he should have looked for the right time a lot harder than he actually had. But he’d been so terrified of losing her that he’d pushed it all to the back of his mind. Yes, he’d always had every intention of telling her, but he’d kept putting it off and putting it off until it had just seemed easier to live with the lie. Because he’d never really expected a future with Amber. He’d just assumed that would never happen. But when he’d heard about Brandon’s move to Wearside Spartans the panic had set in. The truth had caught up with him, and now he was beginning to regret being so weak in the first place, because he had no idea how he was going to break the news to Amber without it sounding like he’d deliberately tried to hide it from her. Which he had. That was the reality of the situation, and he couldn’t change that.

‘You haven’t told anyone yet, have you? And Max, he’s been making sure nothing gets out? I’ve had a word with Wearside Spartans’ Chairman and he’s agreed to…’

‘I know what they’ve all agreed to, Dad. And I know how powerful a man you are in soccer circles, but I’m kinda tired of you pulling all these strings in order to keep our relationship a secret until the time is right for
you
to reveal the truth. That’s not really fair, and it’s putting extra pressure on me, pressure I don’t need right now, don’t you see that? So just tell Amber, all right? And tell her soon, because by the time you get to the stadium tomorrow everyone will know just who I am, and just who my famous father really is. I’m tired of pretending, Dad. So tell her. Because I don’t think you want her to find out any other way, do you?’

Chapter Eight

‘Is something wrong?’ Ellen turned over onto her side, reaching out to gently stroke Ryan’s rough chin, running her fingers lightly over stubble that was fast turning back into a beard. ‘You look – distracted.’

‘I’m just tired,’ he sighed, taking her hand in his and bringing it up to his lips, kissing it quickly, throwing her the famous Fisher grin. He
was
distracted, but she didn’t need to know that. The last thing he needed was for her to get even a whiff of anything he was up to. The fewer people who were involved in all of this the better. For now. ‘It was a tough match yesterday.’ He also had a slight hangover due to the glasses of Jack Daniels he’d downed last night once he’d got home from London, before he’d called her and asked her to come over. Something he hoped hadn’t sent out the wrong message. He’d just needed to be with someone, that was all. He’d come home to an empty apartment and hadn’t fancied his own company all that much. End of story. No other reason.

‘Yeah, but Newcastle Red Star won, didn’t they? Thanks to you.’

He smiled at her. His beautiful Ellen. He’d met her just minutes before he’d set eyes on Amber, just over twelve months ago. She worked in the PR department at Tynebridge and she’d been the one who’d taken him to his first ever interview as a Newcastle Red Star player inside the ground that day – the day that had started the whole crazy journey this past year had taken him on. She’d known exactly what he was like back then, and even after his almost catastrophic breakdown, she was still there. Still willing to give him another chance, despite his sketchy past. Didn’t she deserve something from him to let her know he was grateful? That he was glad she was around? Because he was. Deep down inside, he was grateful she was there – beautiful, tolerant, and red hot in bed. His perfect woman. Almost. But the thought of taking that one step further towards a second stab at commitment still scared him. Especially with what might lie ahead.

‘So, what are you up to today?’ Ryan asked, quickly moving the subject away from his slightly sombre mood. He had a lot on his mind, but nothing he needed to share with her just yet.

‘Well, I thought I’d nip into town, meet the girls, do a little bit of shopping, then…’ She smiled, letting her hand move down until her fingers were touching him, wrapping themselves around him, ‘… then I thought I’d come back here and see if you wanted to play out tonight. Or stay in. It’s up to you.’

He couldn’t help smiling, too. She had her hand wrapped around his dick, what else was he supposed to do? He wasn’t going to piss her off, that was for sure. Despite the fact he was more than enjoying her company right now, he had plans for tonight, and they didn’t involve her. But she didn’t have to know that. Not yet, anyway. He could let her down gently later, and not face-to-face. That was the beauty of text messaging.