"Nicholas Royle - The Cast" - читать интересную книгу автора (Royle Nicholas)

favourite save. But they must achieve success in this or they'll be left
crumpled in a heap in the six yard box like last week's washing. Like
every other keeper, I have a favourite. Or more to the point, a save which
I have never quite made and have always wanted to make.
We were beginning to move out. The passageway out of the changing rooms
was dark and echoing with the clatter of studs. Outside the sudden
sunlight blinded me and I had to squint up the hill towards the pitches.
We left behind the booming camaraderie of the changing rooms and broke
into a trot. Voices got lost more easily out here in the tense cold air. I
couldn't see Zsa anywhere but it shouldn't have mattered: I was with the
others and soon we'd be playing, melded into a perfect group working
together to one end. What better way to spend a Sunday?
"What will we do in the summer?" I asked Docs.
"Baseball," he replied promptly. "Or softball. I've even bought a bat.
We've got to do something."
He was right again. We had to keep the team together for the autumn,
provided we managed to stay in the league.
We kicked around for a while and I did what I always do, using up all my
good saves and dives in the warm-up. It was a perfect day and I couldn't
wait to get started. Docs volleyed a long shot in towards the goal which I
dived for and pushed past the post. "Nice one, Cat," I heard him say.
Sometimes I thought he used the nickname ironically but he was pretty much
my best friend so that was OK. I returned the ball to him and then noticed
Zsa entering my field of vision. She walked down from the top of the hill,
sunlight making her a blurred silhouette, but I could spot her at any
distance. She didn't look all that different from any other woman wrapped
up warm in a thick coat, furry hat and jeans, but when you know someone as
well as I knew her, you know they're coming even before you've seen them.
She was standing just behind the touch line a few feet from the goal as we
kicked off. I took my eye off the game to smile at her. She smiled back
but there was something not quite right about it. Like a mask that was
slightly crooked. I watched the game. Docs was chasing an attacker into my
third of the field. "Played, Docs," I shouted as he dispossessed the
attacker with a sliding tackle. I looked round at Zsa. She was clapping.
There was a throw which went to Stud and he passed it back to me. I
collected with my feet and took the ball to the edge of the area, then
picked it up and gave it a good kick up the park.
Zsa was still smiling as I walked back to the goal line. Still smiling or
smiling again. These days she was a bit like someone playing a part
instead of the real person. She had all the gestures and knew what to say
but there was something that left me unconvinced. I don't know what it was
that started me off thinking she was seeing someone else. Probably just a
stray glance she wasn't expecting me to catch. Or an over elaborate excuse
for turning up late. Something like that.
Soon I was distracted from these morbid thoughts by the game. It had
turned into a real contest, with lots of midfield tussles and attacks that
generally fizzled out before they reached me. "Docs is having a great
game," I said to Zsa.
"Is he?" she replied. "They all look the same to me in those shirts."
"Nice one, Docs," I shouted as he intercepted another cross. "Come on,