Linksshifter II

A Path Between The Waves - ~

Sonali's head was spinning. "But – baba, you don't understand. It's not just me – it's the team – this isn't something I'm just doing because I want to play around, it's not. Look, baba, I start – come next season, we're going to be in the top division – playing against Celtic, Glasgow City, women who've been in the Olympics, the Women's World Cup. I've had scouts ask me if I'm eighteen yet, if I get a job down south to give them a call. I am good at this – I'm good, and I'm getting better, and if I get better I could play professionally in Sweden or Germany or America. If you ever came out to a match, you'd see – this is my life, baba, it's who I am – you can't just take that away from me just saying so."

He folded his arms. "I can, and I have. I have already called your club, and notified them that you've retired. If football was your life, and that's what was ahead of you, then it's a good thing that you can start on a different path now, before you were completely ruined."

Porridge splattered as Sonali's spoon fell into her bowl with a splut. "What? No – no – mum – mum, say something – mum, you've seen me play, you know how much this means to me – mum –" Her mother shook her head, and turned back to the stove. She knew – she had to know – she had to know, someone had probably driven a bus over her dreams at this age too – but she didn't say anything, she wasn't going to say anything, wasn't going to disturb the peace of her home, her husband's family, that was already wrecked all to pieces because he insisted on things being that way.

Anjali and Ajay were just looking down at their toast and porridge, the tomato feud forgotten. Sonali couldn't tell how they were feeling – they'd been too young to know what was happening when Naresh had rows like this about going out to work on the rigs instead of taking over the shop – but she wasn't going to get any sympathy out of them, and a big lot of difference it was going to be to have a pair of ten-year-olds on your side. Naresh had gotten out. She couldn't get out right now, not right today, but she had to, too – she was going to, too. She shook her head and picked up her napkin from her lap, tossing it into the tray as she stood up, leaving her dhokla untouched in the ruins of the rest of her breakfast.

Her father blinked as she collected her bags. "What? Sonali, your breakfast –"

"Not hungry," she said, already out in the front hall, getting her bike down from the hanging rack. "If I don't have to run, I don't have to eat. Goodbye – I'll see you after work." There was a stir from the kitchen, but Sonali was already pushing her bike out the door; nothing anyone could say to her now was going to make a bit of difference.

As she pushed her bike down the close towards the street, Sonali fished around in her school bag for her purse, counting her change, the scraps of her pocket money that so far hadn't gotten spent on Lucozade and chip butties with the girls from the club after road trips. One, two, two fifty, two sixty, two eighty, another fifty pee that had gotten stuck inside her old phone case – it would be enough; not enough for a roll with it to replace the breakfast that had just turned to ashes in her mouth, but this would definitely be enough for a tall Greggs coffee, and she definitely needed one of those to get to school in one piece. Sonali shook her head, brushing the stinging tears out of her eyes, and climbed up over her bike, pushing off down the lane into town.

"Come on, babe; just one, just one, and you'll change your mind. I mean, look: you play football, I play football, you work here, I work here; we got lots in common, aint we? And I know it aint a community thing, cause you're here, didn't get married to some hillman with a beard doon to his willy when you were still in Peppa Pig rompers." Roger smiled what he thought was a winning smile and struck what he must have thought was a dashing pose, leaning against a shrinkwrapped tower of paper towels still on its pallet. Behind him, Elaine leaned forward into the bevvy cooler she was restocking, obviously trying to stifle a laugh.