The Prodigal Son: A Manchester United Story

Hey guys - Just like to give a heads up:

I'm still writing, I've just got back to college and got a lot of work to do, so I will update whenever. As I've said before, I'd rather spend 3 weeks writing a quality update than spam updates every 3 hours :)
 
All i can say is.....
plagiarism.
(private joke).
Also agree about the update, you cant rush something good :)
 
Superb read from start to finish!

I've had to catch up because I wasn't around when it started :p but I've thoroughly enjoyed it. The character is very uh. . tangible and believable and personalities are on show which I think is a lot easier to understand and relate to. Looking forward to the next installment!
 
Chapter 25:
11th​ February, 2012.
Old Trafford, Manchester.

BANG.

The pair of boots that I’d just hurled into the wall of the home dressing room bounced a full 6 feet back from their point of impact.

“What the ******* **** was that?!? Eh? Not one of you is fit to wear the shirt after that performance! Not one.”

I stared around the room, daring one of them to speak.

“Boss-“ Will Keane spoke up from the back of the room.

I walked over. “Don’t you ******* ‘boss’ me, son.” My face was about 6 inches from his. “Another showing like that and any one of you will be out the door! You were all ****! I’ve seen better play from a bunch of 10 year olds at the local park! Get changed and get out. Now.”

I rounded back on them as I got to the doorway. “And if any of you think you’ve earnt your weeks pay, think again. I’m docking every single one of you this week’s wages!”

I exited the stadium and headed to my car. Just sitting there, I recalled the match. Hammered. Hammered 3-0 at home. To ******* Cardiff! Out of the cup. The chance of a domestic treble had gone. Not a single player had looked interested – the players were completely unrecognisable from the ones who’d beaten Norwich at the weekend. I sighed and set off home.


Gawd, I’ve had the paparazzi all over me today! 6 times whilst I was out. Six! All because I’m the girlfriend of the next Busby...

Great, I thought. As if the day couldn’t get any worse. Alice was off on one to one of her friends. She thought she had it bad? She hadn’t just been ridiculed in front of 75’000 people. She hadn’t been stood out, on the edge of a field, soaked in rain. She hadn’t-

“You’ll never guess what happened today, Dan. All day, I tell you, all ****** day. Those photographers, everywhere! Around the shops, on the highstreet-“

“Look, Alice, I get it. I’ve had a ***** day. All I want to do is sleep.” I attempted to interrupt. But she was on a rant by now.

“-In the cafes, seriously, you’d think they hadn’t anything better to do-“

“Alice-“

“I mean, I just wanted a quiet day, look round some-“

“Alice, just SHUT UP!”

I was on my feet. I’d never lost it before with her, and I instantly regretted it. She looked up at me, stunned.

“I’ve had a ***** day. Please, just leave the gossip and all that until tomorrow?” I tried to reason. But the damage was done. She was close to tears, and I noticed the empty bottle of red wine on the side. Drunk and upset, not the best mix. Nice one, Danny.
I mused.

She turned to me, with fire in her eyes. “It’s always about the job isn’t it? Why can’t it be like the old days, back when there was no United, no press, no pressure?”

“Alice, that’s not true-“ I tried to reason.

“But it is! Every time, it’s ‘the players this, the team that’-“

I cut her off. “Look, I’ll head back to the ground. I’m ****** off, you’re just ****** and I’m sure there’s something I forgot anyway. I’ll be back in the morning, give you and me some time just to sort our heads out, ok?”

She just put her head on my shoulder and nodded. I kissed her and left the flat, and walked back to the ground. It’s no later than 5 anyway. Someone will be on the door.


I crossed the atrium of the reception with no real hurry in the direction of my office. I looked up as I heard a voice.

“Trouble at home?”

I turned to see Lisa smirking at me, arms crossed. She’d decided to go for blonde hair this month. Kinda suits her. I thought to myself.

“You could say that, yeah. Bit of an argument after today’s match put me in a bad mood.”

“Ah.” She said. “Well, if you need anything, you know where to call.” She said, with the ghost of a wink, turning back to the reception desk.


I slumped back in my chair and gazed around the office. My medals and trophies were on the shelves lining the walls. nPower Manager of the Month, January 2008. D. Newton, Bury FC. nPower Championship Playoff Champions, 2009-10. Liga BBVA Manager of the Year, 2010-11. Community Shield Winners, 2011. Barclays Manager of the Month, November and December 2011. Pretty meteoric rise to fame, I though, with a grin slowly spreading across my face.

Reaching into the drawer on my left, I pulled it all the way out. Right at the back, a good bottle of 18 year old whiskey. Glenfiddich too, my favourite. I poured what could be described as a ‘healthy’ double measure and began to drink. The golden, smoky alcohol scalded the back of my throat as I drank. Feeling the familiar rush and the weight lift off my shoulders I relaxed. Finishing the glass, I poured another, took the battery out of my phone and threw it into the now empty drawer. Closing it, I heard a knock at the door.

“Come in” I blurted. If it was Gill, well, to use the age old saying: **** it.

To my relief, it wasn’t. “Hey Lisa, what brings you up?” She wandered in through the door as she answered.

“Nothing much. Just thought you might like some company. Drinking alone’s a-“ She paused, as if thinking of an appropriate word. “-terrible habit.” She smirked.

“Care to join me then?” I asked. “Whiskey?” I offered the bottle forward.

“I’m ok. You’re not the only one with a stash...” She winked as she pulled a bottle of vodka from her blouse pocket, pouring a measure to rival my whiskey doses.


A few glasses later and most of both bottles had gone. I swirled the last of the whiskey around the bottle before downing it from the neck. Lisa looked at me. “Where abouts are you staying tonight?” She said, a hint of curiosity about her words.

“Dunno really, bunk down here maybe?” I smiled like a loon to myself as if I’d told the funniest joke ever. “How about you, a flat nearby or something?” I went to stand up, but almost ended up knocking over the Peace Lily in the corner. I steadied myself with the help of her shoulder, still swaying lightly.

“I suppose.” She said, turning to face me. “You know, there’s a spare bed at mine, if you want it?” Seduction crept into her voice but I was too drunk to notice it.

“If you’re offering. I suppose it beats the floor of my office any day of the week” I couldn’t tell if that was the whiskey talking, or my own stupidity. I caught her gaze as she leant towards me.

The kiss was slow, I could taste the vodka on her lips as her hair brushed my face. “That was...” I started.
“Good?” She asked.
“Weird” I answered. “But, good.” She smiled as I followed her out of the office, both of us giggling uncontrollably, as if it was the funniest thing in the world.
 
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Alice won't be happy, the press will have a field day! :)
 
This is a brilliant read. I havent had chance to catch it since page 12 but had a bit of spare time at work and caught up now. Keep up the good work Danny, you should be proud of yourself, great story and characters
 
That last update was fabulous, i can just imagine Alice's face.
 
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