All or Nothing

Chapter 3

John had returned from international duty carrying a slight knock. It was no big deal but coming off the high of winning his 50th cap it was frustrating to find himself in the treatment room rather than on the pitch. It also meant he was missing the opportunity to cement his place in the team as Pep continued to rotate the centre backs in the search for his preferred pairing. Last night he had watched from the stands as his teammates put six goals past Leipzig in front of a crowd of 30,000. Sometimes he still had to pinch himself that he was part of a squad privileged enough to enjoy European nights. Now, he was back in the playground waiting for Hattie, she too made him pinch himself sometimes, he was so lucky to have her.

Aimee had been disappointed not to see John on the pitch. The commentators said he had a 'knock' whatever that meant. She didn't think it could be serious, when Rosie hurt herself and she said, 'it's just a knock', it was nothing more than a bruise, was a 'knock' something different in footballing terms?! She wanted to ask him, but she couldn't. Not yet. He hadn't yet acknowledged his job, simultaneously enjoying his perceived anonymity and not wanting to look like he was showing off.

Summer wasn't quite over, it was a beautiful day, nice enough for dress.  Aimee was determined to get as long as possible from her summer wardrobe and she liked to look nice for her clients when doing deliveries.  But she was kidding no-one, mainly she had dressed with John in mind. The nude patterned dress was her favourite; it did a good job of covering the areas she was insecure about whilst flattering the ones she liked.  Whilst the belted waist made her look tiny and did a good job of hiding the mum tum that had never quite gone away, the butterfly sleeves covered the top of her arms, and the length, just skimming her knees made her short legs look longer.

For the second day in a row Aimee was on time.  She waved hello to John as she approached, "You alright?" He asked, she loved his accent.  She had once read that the Barnsley accent was the thickest Yorkshire one, she didn't know that was true, but she could listen to him all day.  He made her feel self-conscious of her own nasal Mancunian accent.  From where they were standing, they could see Aimee's usual spot by the bin, several wasps were floating nearby, "Why do you stand over there?"  John nodded towards it.  "You don't speak to the other mums!?"  He worried that was too personal a question, but Aimee didn't mind. 

"They don't speak to me," she corrected him.

"I know the feeling," he smiled ruefully. "Just because I'm a guy they act like I'm invisible." 

Since his conversation with Lauren, he had been trying to work out the real reason he was treated like a pariah in the playground and his gender was the only legitimate explanation he could come up with.

Aimee laughed, "It's not because you're a guy," he frowned, waiting for her to continue. "It's because you're John Stones." 

He wasn't surprised she had recognised him; the Euros had made sure it happened more frequently than ever now.  He was surprised however how she hadn't made a big deal about it.  She had known who he was all along, yet she had still spoken to him like he was a normal person. 

"They're intimidated by you," Aimee finished, she liked how humble he was, how it hadn't even occurred to him that every adult here was starstruck by him.  

"So, what's your story?"  He asked, hoping he wasn't prying.  "Why don't they talk to you?"

"Because I'm a slapper," Aimee said, perfectly straight-faced.  John froze, unsure how to react.  Then she smiled, "I'm not!"  She assured him, "But I'm a single mum and the Stepford wives around here find that a criminal offence."  

If the people around here were really that shallow, then John was glad they didn't want to talk to him.

Aimee went on to fill John in on the playground politics, she pointed out the different cliques to him.  There were the working mums in their power suits fresh from the office, coffee cups in hand, chinwagging about taking on the world whilst judging the stay-at-home mums.  The stay-at-home mums in their casual clothes looking down their noses at the working mums.  Lastly there was the nannies, some around Aimee's age, yet still brainwashed into thinking she was a leper.  She shared any gossip she had heard from Chloe, "That's Hugo's mum, she slept with Alice's dad, but they still act like everything's good."