Floodlights

Chapter 16

Matthew got changed quickly, ran some wax through his hair and left the changing room. He placed his bag to the knowledge of the barman by the fridge and sneaks out. The rest of the team loudly spill into the bar and begin their party.

He heads away from his home and towards the river. The sky is now almost clear with only small patches of cloud hanging on. Reaching the river he sits perched on the sea wall listening to the water crash against it. The tide is in but isn't ferocious or forceful. Instead it delightfully pats the wall like a friend would do to another on the back when congratulating him. Further down towards where the river meets the sea, the water ripples onto the beach and looks full and wholesome. Matthew takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. He listens to the water, smells the sea air and feels his mind rested. His stomach begins to relax and he sits happily like a contented dog. Deep slow breaths fill his lungs as Matthew sits for a long time just contently being with nature. Eventually he looks out towards the direction of the estuary where the river meets the grand old sea. It meets miles beyond the horizon and the line of night. Random thoughts of where the old sea runs too and whether there is a distinct river-sea line that you can cross. Matthew imagining Beth with him sharing in his view suddenly looks at his watch and notices that it is getting late and that he would face the wrath of his mother if he wasn't back for dinner. He wanders home slowly but surely partly due to his relaxation and partly due to the bumps and bruises he had got from the game.

Matthew gets home and sneaks upstairs. He rapidly packs away his thing. His urgency directly held to the thought of apologising to Beth and wanting to share this new feeling with her. Forgetting such formalities like folding, his things are flung into the bag. Matthew moves almost as if he was airless and didn't need oxygen to make his muscles move. They were being powered with pure happiness of this new stage in his life and adrenalin dashing around his body like a Ferrari being driven for the first time.

He dashes into the bathroom, locks the door and runs a hot shower to wash himself clean. Coming out clean shaven and refreshed Matthew moves towards his bedroom.

"Hello Matty, did you score?" His mother shouts up the stairs.

"Indeed."

"Well makes a change! Lucky, you only get dinner if you have scored. Roast beef is ready as you are going tomorrow."

Matthew smiles, "Lush! Extra potatoes?"

"Of course."

"I'll be down in a minute. Look Mum, I'm going to leave early in the morning!"

"Yeah thought you might be now football has finished. Well we'll chat about it over dinner. Hurry up its getting cold!"

As Matthew rubs some styling product into his hair and throws on a t-shirt, the smell of a roast wafts up into his senses. That night he got an early night and slept deeply without interruption and without thought. His body and heart resting and recuperating for tomorrow's final push.

***

As Matthew sits on the train he uses as much energy as David Beckham would on a right midfield mission for Manchester United. Nicely dressed, shaved (so freshly that his neck has shaving rash after his first close shave for months) and hair neatly styled Matthew looks like a New England spring: bright, refreshed, eager and clearly again blossoming. His feet tap and his fingers play aimlessly on his phone and he often switches position on his set like a young boy needing the toilet. His fingers begin to flutter up and down on his phone's arrow keys around Beth's phone number.

The train, new and quietly coloured with plain seat covers and green strips, doesn't provide much cover to the glare of the elements. However, instead of the consistent rain bouncing hard off the windows repetitively banging hard waiting to be let in, the sky is calm. Greys of all shades swirl being organised by a clever wind. Different shades both dark and light blur and dart around each other like paint mixing; only slower, peacefully and purposely making room and space for its Omnipresent to step out. There is a weak but freely breathing early morning summer sun striking through. Bright rays sharply push through the cloud and back onto the land. They are so bright that Matthew has to close his eyes to prevent its glare piercing his eyes. He clasps his phone and in his head goes over what he is going to say to her.