Goalposts Pt. 02

Introduction

A former soccer player is head hunted for her sports expertise by the Lionesses. Romance amongst young women athletes will surely follow. This story of a young transgender woman, picks up Vicki's life after 'Goalposts Part One', but stands alone. Some characters and incidents are referred to but are not essential for enjoying this instalment.

Based on contemporary themes; strong language; explicit sex; lots of fun; some tears.

Goalposts Part Two

"It was lovely to see you Helen but please don't overdo the stretches or you'll be right back here again. We're done, unless you have any other issues?" Vicki smiled to her patient, holding up her fleece for her as she dressed. "Come on, I'll walk you to the door. I could use some fresh air."

Together they walked down to the atrium of the Rushford Sports Clinic and its glass fronted entrance.

Outside lay a paved area of raised garden beds, still dotted with the last summer flowers that glowed in the low autumn light. Vicki plucked a sage leaf as she passed, rolling it in her hands to enjoy its earthy fragrance.

"Any news on that job?" Helen asked as they approached her car.

"Yeah. They've found themselves a sports doctor, so I've missed out there, sadly," Vicki answered with a shrug. "Have a safe drive back, Helen and I'll see you at the game on Saturday. Bye, love."

The two women parted with a friendly hug. Vicki shivered in the chilly November air, giving Helen a wave as she drove away.

Since graduating as a physiotherapist, Vicki had a growing reputation in the sports community for bringing clinical expertise to training and pitch side problems. She had hoped to support the England field hockey team at the Olympics, but had missed out to a more qualified doctor.

However, when one door closes another opens. As Vicki was gathering her medical kit for the Saturday match, her phone rang. She didn't recognise the number.

"Hello?" she answered flatly, expecting a sales pitch.

"Vicki Hadley? Forgive me, we have met before at a meeting for Sport England some months ago. I'm Cindy Hawthorn, the welfare secretary at the England Lionesses team camp. Have you got a minute?"

"I thought I recognised your voice, Cindy." Vicki smiled and set her bag down. "I can give you five minutes. I'm just on my way to the club. What can I do for you?"

Cindy came straight to the point, appreciating time was short. "One of our team gave a glowing report after they attended the trauma seminar you presented for Physios in Sport. Is there any chance you can come up to St George's Park in the next week or two?"

"Did you want to book me through the Rushford Clinic, Cindy. I'm sure we can fix up something?"

"Well, this was more a personal meeting, Vicki, not an official one. We'll cover your costs, of course."

"Just a moment Cindy, let me check my diary." Vicki flipped open her computer to check. "I'm going to be in Birmingham on the third, so I could call over the following morning if that works?"

"Perfect. That's a regular training day and the whole squad will be on site. About ten o'clock sound okay for you? Just ask for me at reception. Thanks Vicki, I'll let you get on. See you on Wednesday the fourth. Bye."

Vicki closed her laptop with a frown. She had kept her distance from the Football Association after they banned her from competitive sports for being a transgender player. The humiliation still rankled. However, they had world class facilities and plenty of funding, so she could swallow her hurt feelings if it meant a decent fee.

'Personal meeting. Intriguing,' she mused.

* * * * *

Vicki had never visited St George's Park, the Football Association's training camp. A week later her sat nav guided her down a long drive to its impressive main reception. The building complex was vast with indoor pitches and more sports facilities that a player could ever need. It lay in a site of over 300 acres, set out with manicured pitches in rolling countryside.

"I'm here to meet Cindy Hawthorn. I'm Vicki Hadley." She smiled to the young man at reception.

"Just a moment. I think she might be on her way down." He gestured to the stylish benches. "Take a seat for a moment."

The tall atrium was ablaze with inspirational slogans and posters of England football heroes, mostly men she noted, but the men's game brought in the money so that made sense to her. 'Respect for the game and each other' declared one poster. Vicki liked the message.

Looking around she could understand why Premiereship tickets cost over a hundred pounds. It made her hockey clubs look very much the poor relations.

"Vicki! How lovely to meet you properly. I'm Cindy." Her host raised a hand in a wave as she hurried over. "How was your journey? Did you get parked okay?"

Vicki greeted her with a fist bump, still mindful of Covid restrictions. "A pleasure, Cindy. Yup, no problems finding you, thanks."

Cindy gestured and Vicki followed and the two bustled across the hall to a stairway.

"We could take the lift, but it's kinda frowned on here, Vicki. Is that a change of clothing you've brought with you? We can easily find something for you if not." Cindy seemed to be a woman in a permanent hurry, but Vicki was happy to chat as they strode the corridors.

"Who exactly am I meeting, Cindy? This all seems very cloak and dagger."

"We'd like you to meet Alice Tong and Charlotte Dowty, our senior physios. You might know their names already? They'll be in the therapy suite so we'll go there first. Then Sarina has asked to meet you. She's really the reason you're here." Cindy answered, turning to Vicki as they came to a halt at the Physiotherapy department.

"Excuse me? Did you say Sarina? Not Sarina Weisman. Not that Sarina?" Vicki stopped in her tracks. Sarina was the former Dutch national football coach the Lionesses had managed to recruit.

"Yes, Sarina. Hence the cloak and dagger stuff. We're a close knit family, and we guard our privacy, so yes. Sorry if that's thrown you, but honestly she's lovely," Cindy replied with a mischievous smile, clearly enjoying the surprise and Vicki's reaction.

She pushed the door open into the warmth of the treatment rooms. Vicki changed into her regular treatment outfit and spent an hour with the other therapists. Her initial shyness was quickly dispelled by the enthusiasm and professionalism of her hosts. She was always happy to geek out with other physios and was quickly drawn into discussions about the protocols and philosophy of their medical team.

She was flattered when Alice found a video of one of her presentations, picking on her ideas and how they'd discussed them amongst themselves.

Time flew past and Cindy soon appeared at the door, rolling up on her toes anxiously.

"I'll take you down to the indoor pitch where Sarina's with the squad. They'll be breaking for lunch soon but you can watch some of the training."

Vicki was overawed by the scale of the facilities as Cindy guided her through a maze of corridors, classrooms and retail outlets. They finally arrived at the glass doors to an indoor pitch.

"You've probably seen Sarina's assistant, Arjan, at the team matches on television. He's expecting you and he'll let her know you're here. I'll see you before you leave."

Cindy put her hand gently to the small of Vicki's back and indicated where she should go.

Vicki was bewildered. She half expected a Mad Hatter to appear and this was a bizarre dream. She'd never been to St. George's, now she was about to meet Sarina Weisman, the famous head coach. She suddenly realised she had butterflies; something she'd not experienced since her Super League soccer days.

She dug her thumbnail hard into her finger to distract herself and quiet her nerves as she made her way across the artificial turf.

Arjan saw her approaching and waved her to a seat next to him, giving her a fist bump in hello.

"Hi Vicki. This is right yes, Vicki? I'm not so good with names at all times," Arjan smiled his apology with a distinct Dutch accent. His face was as gaunt and pale as he appeared on television but the light in the hangar sized space was tinged green. Bright but artificial. She wondered if her own face looked ghostly.

"Let's watch a while. See what you think of the session. I think there's someone here you know. Lotte Brizel is still in the squad."

Vicki peered through the weaving bodies for Lotte and recognised her body language before she could focus on her face. Lotte and her had been lovers once, before their lives took them in different directions. They'd parted amicably and remained friends, often texting photos and jokes to each other.

Vicki watched Lotte for a little while, but she soon became fascinated by the whole training environment.

Sarina Weisman was in regular joggers and sweat top. She had a bird like quality -- her arms folded tightly across her chest made her shoulders stoop like a hawk waiting to fly. She watched the players with an intense concentration, shouting praise and encouragement. After ten minutes, Sarina clapped her hands and the players gathered in a circle for a debrief.

Arjan glanced her way with a smile. "Impressed?" he asked.

"Of course, yes. So many great players here - I know most of them from league matches on TV. There's a couple of the younger players I don't know. But listen Arjan. Can you tell me why I'm here? I mean, it's been a lovely surprise to be invited, but this is a mystery," Vicki answered, still perplexed and still digging in her thumbnail.

"Ah! And you must be Vicki!" Sarina called before Arjan could reply and Vicki stood to meet her. "But where are my manners? Where is Lotte? Lotte? Come over here a second and say hello."

Lotte looked across in a double take, then bolted over to greet Vicki. As they hugged, Sarina clapped her hands together in delight. A couple of other players wandered over in friendly curiosity.

"Girls, girls. Permit me to introduce Vicki Hadley who is visiting us today. She used to play alongside Lotte at her old club, so Vicki is a player like us, but also now a physio."

A number of the players gathered round the grinning friends who'd draped their arms at each other's waist. Vicki saw the line of smiling faces and felt suddenly bashful, embarrassed to find herself the centre of attention, amongst the 'Hello's' and 'Nice one, Vicki's'.

"That's enough of putting this poor lady on the spot!" Sarina called above the camaraderie. "Okay, girls. Good work today. I'll see you all again for tactical after lunch."

Lotte gave Vicki's hand a squeeze, letting it trail behind her as she turned away with the other players. "I'll catch you later, Vicks. What a lovely surprise, but not a surprise either. You'll find out, hon. I'll see you at lunch, yeah?"

"So, Vicki," Sarina turned to face her, her voice now business-like. "Forgive me for bringing you here with so much secrecy. You'll understand we are always in the media and that's not always a good thing. Lets take a seat for a moment."

Sarina motioned her to a bench away from the other staff. "So. Time is always short and I hope you'll forgive me if I am direct.

"We have an excellent physio team, who you've met earlier. Really - first class people. But. Not one of them plays football. I want people in my support team with multi-discipline skills. It may not seem much to an outsider, but to a player, it matters.

"So the question was raised if we could find a physio who also played football and of course, Lotte came up with your name. That is why you are here.

"I've seen your resumé, which is excellent and Charlotte will no doubt give me her feedback as well. Right now as you can see, we have the pitch to ourselves. Fancy a quick kick around for fun? You and me - let's play. It's how I get to know people."

Sarina flashed a smile at Vicki and offered her hand as she rose.

It felt to Vicki that the Mad Hatter had indeed appeared and that she was Alice at the tea party.

Sarina side-kicked a ball to her. In reflex, Vicki flipped it up with her toe to set the ball bouncing on her foot. She scooped it higher and bounced it a couple of times on her head, before it landed wrongly and she had to chase it.

Sarina gestured her to pass and they spent a couple of minutes kicking the ball back and forth. Sarina flicked a couple of high balls so that Vicki had to kill them on her chest and immediately volley them back.

"Show me some corners, Vicki," called Sarina. "Head height please."

The patterns of play were coming back to Vicki. The muscle memory may have lain dormant in her body for over six years but to her surprise, she felt her gift returning.

She sent three near perfect deliveries in a curve from the corner to where Sarina stood at the penalty spot.

"Good! Now try goal. I'll pass to you. Come on, come on!" Sarina insisted and Vicki obeyed. She began to understand why everyone respected the England coach.

Three goals hammered into the netting.

"Shall we book her, Arjan?" Sarina called with a laugh to her assistant who'd been watching them play. He answered with a thumbs up.

Sarina collected the ball and approached Vicki.

"You can play, can't you? You have talent. I can see why your old club signed you up so young. How old were you? Eighteen wasn't it? Then those shits at FIFA dumped you, right?" Sarina spoke quietly, tilting her head sympathetically, still clutching a ball to her waist.

It might be old news but Sarina had done her research. Vicki felt stripped bare and sensed her heart beating faster. She briefly looked away to the goal, uncomfortable to make eye contact with Sarina, despite the other woman's empathy.

"I should tell you, Vicki. My nephew in the Netherlands was transgender. We have a very open attitude to gender and people back home, but it was not enough to save him. He was only sixteen when he died. It was a tragedy. He had so much to give. Such a keen spirit." Sarina nudged the ball away as she spoke.

When she looked up, Vicki saw there were tears in her eyes.

Vicki was moved by the frank admission. In an impulse she stepped forward to embrace her, hugging Sarina's thin frame to hers.

"I'm so sorry, Sarina," Vicki whispered into the older woman's hair.

Sarina nodded under the hug, acknowledging the kindness.

Vicki felt the embrace ending and when she drew away was trailed by a delicate scent of bergamot. Sarina had composed herself and forced a lop-sided smile, bashful for her tears.

"The FA treated you like dirt, Vicki. It's time to make amends. I'm offering you a job here if you want it. Not out of sympathy or vengeance, but rather because good people deserve their chance. If you can forgive us, the game, the FA, I'd be honoured to have you work with us. Truly. You're exactly the person we need here."

Vicki was stunned. She felt she should say something but had none of the right words in her head. She blew her cheeks out in a long exhale and sank down to perch on the football at her feet, resting her chin on her hands. Her mind was spinning from too many emotions at once.

Vicki's consternation was clear to Sarina. She looked at the young woman in front of her and remembered her nephew again. 'This is for Stephan' she thought.

"Vicki? I don't expect a reply immediately. I know this is potentially a huge change of direction for you but we can talk about that. Arjan and I are going to have a bite to eat. Follow us up when you're ready. Have a bit more of a kick around if you like. Kill that netting for me." Sarina laughed with a nod to the goal.

Sarina turned and Arjan joined her. They paced off across the field, deep in discussion.

'Was that an interview or a challenge?' Vicki puzzled as she watched them go. She felt very small, not just alone in the cavernous space but overcome by the whirlwind of memories the encounter had provoked.

She found herself pressing tears from her eyes, curled over her knees as she rocked on the ball. Sarina's candid words had unlocked years of anger and bitterness she'd thought were locked away.

The wave of tears and gasps receded and childlike, she wiped her eyes dry on her cotton sleeves. She knew her eyes would be red and her face blotchy. She was irritated by her tears, regarding them as weakness. She was grateful to be alone.

As she rose to follow the coach she noticed the ball rolling away across the astroturf.

"Fuck!" she yelled, impulsively lunging at the ball, sending it rocketing into the netting so hard the metal bindings rattled.

Vicki turned and began to walk to the dining area, pausing to look back at the goal. Sarina had said 'kill that netting for me'. How did she know that would be Vicki's reaction? Was it just coincidence or did she anticipate her response?

Vicki had known Sarina only by reputation, but in this short meeting she felt an immediate bond with her. It looked like she'd be spending a good deal of time at St George's.

* * * * *

A few days later Vicki arrived for her first day as a consultant at St George's. Her new colleague, Alice, handed her a large bag as they returned to their office after a tour of the facilities.

"Here's a goody bag of tops and fleeces for you. If you need any other kit, just pop down to the shop and they'll charge it back to us." Alice smiled. "It's great to have you on the team." Alice perched herself on Vicki's desk. "Talking of which, would you like to join us for a meal later? The medical group has a social on Wednesday's and there's a nice Italian down the road we go to."

"I'd love that." Vicki replied. "I was going to eat at the Holiday Inn but you feel like Billy No Mates, if you're by yourself."

"You're not seriously paying for accommodation, are you? I've got a spare room you could use. It'd be no bother and we can square up over costs and stuff before you commit yourself. I only live a couple of miles away so I cycle in," said Alice, putting her hand out in friendship. "Why not stay over tonight after the meal. You can pay for the taxi. Deal?"

"Easily done! Yes. Thanks Alice. That's really kind of you," Vicki smiled, relieved to have found such a warm welcome. She'd worried the other specialists might have resented her recruitment.

Alice nodded at the clock. "We ought to make a move. The squad will be finishing soon and they come straight up to the treatment room afterwards so you can get stuck in."

When the squad came in from training the physio staff were waiting for them. It was beneficial to put hands-on soon after exercise and while some players waited on benches chatting, others were receiving treatment.

Most needed long muscles massage to promote recovery and flush lactic that was the natural result of exercise. Often athletes had a history of joint problems that might threaten to re-occur without watchful care.

Rachel Whaley was on Vicki's couch, chattering happily in a cheerful stream of gossip about other players, music and family. Vicki pressed hard into her quads, feeling the fibrous sheaths of muscles glide under her oiled hands.

"Oh, blimey Vicki! That one hurts," Rachel suddenly squealed, her face a momentary flash of pain.

"I can feel that, Rachel. Old wound? Lets see if we can work it out," Vicki spoke quietly to her and repeated the movement, noting the rope of tighter flesh.

"Ow, shit! You people are all the same. Yes! That's it!" Rachel complained. She fought between bracing against the discomfort and remaining calm, making fists at her forehead.

"Aww! Is she giving you a hard time, Whaley?" said a voice at Vicki's shoulder. It was Leah, the team captain. "Go on, Vicki. She can take it."

"Careful what you say, Leah. You're next up and I might have bribed her." Rachel laughed back.

Leah was looking over Vicki's shoulder, watching her work. It felt strange for Leah to be so close but Vicki supposed the unconscious proximity was just her way.