‘Was that the crisis you had to sort out when you couldn’t make the party after Antony and Cleopatra?’ asked Etta. ‘We all missed you so much, particularly Trixie.’
Not meeting Etta’s eyes, or admitting he couldn’t bear everyone drooling over Seth, who was so good-looking and so much younger, Valent lied that it had been about the new lighter-but-tougher football boots. Then, his tongue loosened by wine, he told her how he longed to work with Ryan again.
‘I luv him, Etta, and I used to talk to him every day when Pauline was alive. I miss him, but he doesn’t approve of me and Bonny.’
He was about to say how lucky she was having children living nearby, but having earlier seen Martin bossily pounding the streets with Jude the Obese in the twilight, he decided she wasn’t and moved on to the possibility of buying Searston Rovers.
‘They have a wonderful player called Feral Jackson.’
‘How do you know that?’ asked Valent, impressed.
‘He’s a friend of Dora’s. Wish she’d come back, she’s so sweet.’ Etta got the chocolate tart out of the fridge and cut a large slice for him and, ‘bugger Bonny’, tipped cream all over it.
‘Do you miss football?’ she asked. ‘You were brilliant at it.’
‘Playing in goal taught me to watch and concentrate,’ explained Valent. ‘It’s dangerous, you get kicked in the face, and in the hands when you fling yourself at people’s feet, everywhere really. And it’s not spectacular. Everyone remembers the fortyyard goal or the score backwards over the head, but not the great saves.’
‘Unless you’re Gordon Banks,’ said Etta, who’d been shown the photographs in the office by Joey. ‘And that amazing Colombian scorpion save. You’re a hero too. That save against Holland …’
Valent was impressed and smiled: sunlight on the Yorkshire crags again.
‘I wish Bonny thought so.’
‘How is she?’ Etta decided to take the bully by the horns.
‘I’ve been away. She’s rehearsing, which she luvs.’ Then he confided that Bonny always made him conscious of his age. ‘I know I’m too old for her.’
‘You’re not, you look really gorgeous and you’re really young at heart. Look how Trixie and Rafiq and Dora and Tommy adore you.’
‘Bonny’s Ryan’s age.’ Valent looked down at his uneaten chocolate tart. ‘God, what a waste. I was a war baby.’
‘The badgers will adore it.’ Etta removed his plate. ‘Shall we open that second bottle?’ she asked hopefully. It was so nice having him sitting on the sofa, idly stroking a supine Priceless.
Valent picked the bottle up, then found it had a screw top which his big hands couldn’t shift.
‘Fucking arthritis. That comes from being in goal.’
‘Give it to me,’ Etta shoved the top between the front-door hinges, letting in a blast of cold air. They could hear a gaggle of Mrs Malmesbury’s geese going to bed. After a couple of turns, the bottle opened.
‘Thank goodness Sampson isn’t alive, he would have been furious with me for spoiling the paintwork.’ Etta filled up their glasses.
Curious, but suspecting she didn’t like talking about Sampson, Valent asked if she had any other gossip.
‘Mrs Malmesbury’s having a problem with her geese.’ Etta removed the plates and the chocolate tart, popping another bit in her mouth. ‘God, I’m a pig. Now here is a point.’ Etta paused, waggling a finger at Valent. ‘Mrs Malmesbury’s youngest goose, Spotty, was shared by two young ganders, but when the older goose, who was the girlfriend of the much older gander, Honky, got eaten by a fox, Spotty the young goose promptly flew over the fence, abandoning her two young gander lovers, and moved in with Honky the old gander, who was desolate without his mate.’ Etta absent-mindedly broke off and ate another corner of chocolate tart. ‘So you see, like Bonny and loads of other women, she found an older mate much more attractive.’
‘Yeah, yeah.’ Valent smiled, thinking how he liked watching Etta’s face as she talked.
‘Anyway, the two young ganders were so furious, they got poor old Honky down, pulled out his feathers and pecked out one eye, like poor Wilkie, but it made no difference to young Spotty. She still adores her old Honky even with one eye, and leads him around everywhere.’
‘So you think I ought to wear an eyepatch?’ said Valent dryly. ‘And talking about eyepatches, how’s Mrs Wilkinson?’
When Etta had finished telling him, he promised to ring Marius first thing and say Rafiq must ride her.
‘Oh, would you?’ said Etta in delight. ‘That’s so kind. If he doesn’t make it