Seven

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I'm waiting in the stands after the match while Adam and his team are in the sheds with the scouts and coaches. Mum and Dad are cleaning up in the canteen, and I'm cleaning my kit bag, trying to not be bored.

Someone clears their voice behind me and I turn to see John Waverly standing there, smiling. How does he manage to sneak up on people like that?

"Hi," I say. "Any of the boys good enough to go to the city?"

John laughs. "Maybe."

I shove my shoes back into my bag and reorganise my kit so it fits properly.

"That was quite a display you put on out there, Alice," John says. "Is that how you play every week?"

I snort. "I don't play every week."

"Oh?" John sounds surprised. "Why not?"

I shrug. "The club won't let me. Not that I care. I get to train with them, so I'm happy with that."

"Right," John says. He uncrosses his arms and sits down beside me. "Look, Alice, I'll cut to the chase. There's a training camp for talented women's players coming up in a couple of weeks. It's invitation only and you're supposed to be registered with a club. But if you're interested, I could probably get you a place."

Woah. This is a turn up for the books. "You're offering me a place?"

"If you think it's something you'd like to go on, yes."

"Wow. I don't know. I mean, of course I'm interested, but I'd have to talk to Mum and Dad."

"I've spoken to your Dad and he seems quite keen. I'll have to pull a few strings because registration's already closed, but I'll see what I can do." He stands up. "If you want to know some more about the camp, there's an article in last month's Stumps magazine."

Over John's shoulder, I see Mum and Dad come out of the canteen. Dad heads into the dressing shed and Mum heads to the car. I stand up. "I have to get going."

John sticks out his hand and I shake it. "It was great to meet you, Alice. I hope to see you again soon."

"Thanks. Me too." I throw my kit bag over my shoulder and head to the car where Mum's putting two bags of bread rolls on the back seat.

"What are they?" I ask, throwing my bag in the boot.

"Extras. They were going to throw them out so I grabbed two bags. We can put them in the freezer." She closes the door. "Who was that you were talking to?"

"A scout," I reply, trying to make it sound like no big deal.

"Asking about Adam?" she asks. For the first time ever, the assumption that Adam is the topic of conversation annoys me.

"Actually, he asked me if I wanted to go on a training camp," I reply.

Mum sucks in a breath.

"What?" I ask, fully aware what her not saying anything means.

"I thought the scouts were here for Adam's team, that's all."

"There were two teams out there, Mum. We had some good players too."

That's not completely true, but I feel like I need to defend my team. Maybe it's because we're all the ones who get picked last and never really get a chance to play during the season because we're only picked to run the drinks or if we're lucky, be twelfth man.

"I know," Mum says. "Just, be careful what the scout promises, that's all."

"Would you be saying that to Adam if the scout was talking to him?"

Mum doesn't reply.

Why is it that when Adam was excited that a scout was coming, no-one said to be careful, but as soon as I get a sniff that I might be able to play cricket, it's a different story? Before I can say anything more, Dad comes over.

"Adam's coming with me, so I'll see you at home."

I get into the front passenger seat and put on my seat belt. Dad holds the door open. "You played well today, Alice," he says. "We've got some things to talk about when we get home." He smiles and closes the door.

At least someone seems to be happy about thescout taking an interest in me instead of Adam.    

Alice Henderson On DebutWhere stories live. Discover now