What If…

I met her on a damp Thursday night. She flew into the clubhouse on a flurry of cobwebs and black and orange streamers. Resting a child’s broomstick against the wall and holding out a tray of sticky, red toffee apples she asked,
‘Where should I take these?’
‘There’s a table at the back. Louise is organising it all.’
She smiled as she turned away. I hoped she didn’t feel that I was boring or dull.

A while later, still cloaked in black, she caught me looking at her as she handed out her toffee apples. She walked over and offered me the sickly treat.
‘They’re delicious.’ she said.
I couldn’t refuse and as I bit through the crimson caramel she teased,
‘I like your outfit.’
Then she playfully laid her hand on my arm. That magical touch sent messages along my veins, to my head and to my heart and I realised I had fallen for her.
‘I’m Eve Alexander, Sam’s mum. Are you one of the coaches?’
‘Yes I’m Adam,’ I replied, ‘I coach the under nines.’
‘Great. Sam will be joining you next season then,’ she said.
She held her long slim hand out to shake mine and our eyes met. Hers were green and for a moment I caught my reflection in them. As she held my gaze I felt drawn to her, like a magnet, pulling strongly towards another. A mystical energy was unleashed. You could feel it in the air, dancing with excitement around the room.

A few weeks later I saw her again. She was standing at the side of the pitch, shivering in the cold. She was chatting to a group of other mums and as I walked across the field she gave me a sidelong glance. I mouthed hello to her and she discreetly mouthed one back, whilst still listening to the other women’s conversation.
Seeing her made my pulse race. I felt unable to look away and kept looking over at her, just to see if she was looking at me.
It was around that time that she started to appear in my dreams. Only for me to wake and find that she had never really been there at all.

I made it my job to be on duty at the training sessions, just so I could see her. She fascinated me and when we chatted I wanted to hear about everything her. She answered my questions without suspicion, as I sought to learn more about her. I wanted to get into her mind, as she had mine.
During the matches we’d swapped glances from across the crowded pitch. Secret messages that only we could understand. Her energy was boundless and she was always offering to help here and there. I didn’t refuse her kindness; it meant I would see her again.

She volunteered to help, at the club outing. We took a small group of children up to a bike track in the forest. I spent the whole day near her, observing her. Studying the way she tilted her head as she wound her chocolate brown hair around her finger, and how she bit into her bottom lip when she thought nobody was watching.
At the end of the day as the children bustled into the coach, we sorted through the jumble of bags and coats. Our hands fumbled together and our fingers touched, as we squeezed the luggage onto the racks above the seats. We laughed as they tumbled back down. It felt like it was just me and her. I felt guilty, before anything had even begun.

It wasn’t long after that when she sent me the first email. Sam had fallen off his bike and fractured his ankle. There would be no football for a couple of months. My heart plummeted like a bucket falling into the bottom of an empty well.
She upheld her promise of keeping in touch. Regular progress reports about Sam. Sometimes, a few stolen moments from her life were captured into words and shared with me. I always replied, and as time went by, I casually put a kiss after my name. I sensed she was flattered, but unsure. One day she surprised me and sighed her name Eve followed by a kiss. Seeing that ‘x’ on the screen removed all doubt.

Summer came and went. It was unusually warm. Everyone was in high spirits, but I was melancholy. She holidayed abroad with her family. A surprise for her birthday, booked by her husband. My heart ached. She kept in touch, as she always had. It was hot. They were having a great time. I felt saddened, as if I had lost something that was not yet mine. I didn’t see her again until the start of the new season.

Sam’s ankle healed and she appeared in my life once more, every Wednesday and on Sunday mornings. When I saw her I felt my life was complete. Sometimes, she laughed at my jokes and I would reach out and touch her arm, just to feel closer to her. She didn’t flinch or pull away and I felt that her heart skipped in a secret pleasure.
Each week she would return. We talked and joked like we always did. My heart raced in anticipation and once, as she brushed lint off my lapel, she looked at me; and I saw the sweetest sadness in her eyes. In the back of my mind I wondered what it would be like to kiss her.

For a time I didn’t see her at all, her husband brought Sam to training. I wondered where she was, or who she was with. I didn’t see her in the café, or the library. Sometimes I would walk past her house, just to see if her car was there. Hoping to catch a glimpse of her. I felt that she was slipping away.

Then one cold October evening, she appeared in a flurry of cobwebs and black and orange streamers, holding a tray of sticky, red toffee apples.
‘I’ll just get rid of these and I’ll help you with the decorations,’ she said.
My heart skipped a beat.
Together we decorated the clubhouse in cobwebs and paper chains. Others arrived with food and then departed into the bar upstairs.
As the children partied I watched her, from across the room. Her hair was longer, and darker and she wound it round her finger in the same way she always had. As she danced by me she took my hand, and tried to persuade me to join in the hokey-cokey, but I resisted, I didn’t want to share her with anyone. I wanted to dance with her all by myself.

As the other guests departed she stayed behind and helped me tidy the party away. It felt good to be near her, and she teased me about my outfit once again.
In the darkened silence of the room she turned towards me and pulled out a parcel from her pocket. A small one, neatly wrapped in a female way.
‘It’s just to say thank you,’ she said ‘It’s off Sam.’
She placed the gift in my hand, and gave me one of her mind melting smiles. Her long slender fingers touched mine and lingered for a moment. I felt dizzy as if some magic charm was dancing around inside my head and swirling though my veins racing to reach my heart. My gaze fixed upon her sugary petal painted lips and I leant in towards her and kissed her tenderly. For a second I felt her warm breath on mine.
In the back of my mind I wondered; what if… this wasn’t what she wanted at all?




Word Count: 1286

AJW
January 2009