9.

Dear Dani,

I'm your Secret Santa!

When I drew your name I wasn't sure what to get you but I talked to Bonnie and Angel and they said why don't you write a letter about what's been going on? Their idea was like okay yeah we do tell you what's happening and you get the half time team talks but maybe you don't get many of the subtle bits and someone said you told the doc crew you would like to get deeper sometimes. That made me sad thinking about how you miss out even if it's only a little bit. I know I wouldn't want to miss anything, even the bad bits, and I got pumped and I was all 'yeah yeah yeah I'll do it!' and Angel said 'or you could buy some chocolates'.

I can never tell when she's joking.

You know what? I've just realised she's a lot like Max. Yeah, she's kind and funny except when she's intense and she can be scary. There's suddenly loads of people like that in my life. Dead competitive and always on and pushing and that's just the physios!

So I randomly got to spend a day with Max and halfway along I decided I'd use it as a chance to find out when he's joking and when he isn't which now that I type it out kind of seems lame but even though I hear everything I don't understand what I'm hearing and honestly I think I'd prefer to be in your shoes and only get the plain facts.

To be clear, the mission was to try to hear the words under the words, starting with Max. The plan didn't really go to plan but it was a fun couple of days and I think if I were you I'd like to read about it!

Okay it's five minutes later because I thought about the chain of events and I probably have to describe the day before even though you were there. Just in case you weren't concentrating. And after all, it's me and you who get told off for losing concentration so... Here goes!

***

It was Wednesday so we went to training like normal and while we were getting changed and putting our GPS vests on ALL HAIL THE VESTS we were buzzing about what the boys did in the Youth Cup. They nearly beat Chelsea! Charlotte had the inside goss from William and you got clips from Tyson and Jill had some proper footage off Smasho and I was just eating it all up! I mean, like, wow. Chelsea! In their den! That's where this club is going. All of us! So it was crazy when Max turned up. Like, speak of the devil and he will appear!

He had a weird look on his face, didn't he? I'm not sure what it was all about. He kicked the documentary crew out, so that put me on edge. I think everyone was nervous.

He went, "Right, quick chat." And that made me even more stressed because normally he says 'all right shut the bleep up' but not now. Why's he being weird? Jackie felt the same - I saw him twist his neck to check Max's face. The vibes were all wrong!

"Quick chat. There's, like, going to be some talk about a takeover of the club or whatever." Big buzz! Takeover! What! "Yeah, can you calm the fuck down, please? Jesus Christ." He looked disgusted and I couldn't tell if he was acting. Looking back... still not sure. "Right. Takeover talk. People hate change and uncertainty but a bit of change and uncertainty is good for me so I'm letting this play out. When we set the women's team up, me, Ruth, and the lawyers got stuck in making sure it would be hard for some dude from Chester HQ to fuck it up. You're better insulated than a... Shit. Jackie, name three things that are insulated."

"A thermos flask. A loft. Livia in her Christmas socks."

"Hmm. Emma has Christmas socks. It's like she delights in their ugliness. Okay, you guys are as insulated as tiny feet in thick socks. Obviously, some theoretical new owner could be a total dick and try to stop you using the kit and the badge and crap like that, but while this particular family wouldn't give you extra funding, there's zero money in destroying you so they will totes ignore you. i.e. you can be chill. If you're getting paid, you'll still get paid. Jackie will still be in charge. Kisi and Dani still won't track their runners and Bea Pea will still be exhausted after twenty minutes from storming around like a headless chicken." I know this stuff winds you up but it didn't bother me. If anything, I was pleased to hear it because if he was giving me shit it meant he was in a good mood. But was he? For some reason I looked at Angel - that thing where they understand each other maybe - and she was kinda stressed and what Max said next got me all kinds of worried. "The only thing that will be even slightly different is that I don't want Brooke talking to you until this is over."

"Why's that?" said Jackie. HE understands Max well and HE'S worried, now.

Max shook his head. "I'm going to ask for a tiny bit of diplomacy and sophistication from everyone with regards to Brooke in the next month. We all know she's a total ledge and she's been doing amazing work and I know lots of you look up to her. For everyone's benefit, I want her to keep a low profile and anyway she's a workaholic so she can take a couple of weeks off over Christmas and New Year. If you're doing parties and that, invite her to your house yes, invite her to get smashed in the city centre no. Okay, I've just realised this was a mistake because you're all mad interested in it so I'm ordering you now to leave her alone until the Fans Forum. Do not talk about her on camera whether it’s in the documentary or on your socials. Bonnie, Femi, is that clear enough?"

I suppose they replied but I was patting my hair to see if it had zapped up like Einstein because this was some spooky shit. I remember you looking at the transcript on your phone like 'this can't be right'.

Later, we put two and two together, didn't we, that it was her dad doing the takeover and I don't know why Max didn't just say that. Maybe he hoped we wouldn't notice? If that's the level of his plans we're all effed, as you'll read about later. Anyway, I met Brooke the next day and she and Max were superfriends so I've got to assume that, like, he was really looking out for her. I think?

Back to the so-called quick chat before training - and we're nearly getting to the important bit. Jackie said, "So there's a takeover happening?"

Max scoffed and did a cute smile but remembered he was trying to do a sort of worried, frowny persona. "Yeah, I can't think of anything that could stop it at this point." He was trying not to laugh! He shuffled his feet a bit wider and looked down until he was ready. Ready to cry! "It's going to be really, really hard to stop."

Jackie sort of grinned. "Ah. Got it." He looked from us to him. It was like, yes I trust you Max but the Brooke thing is super, super weird. "You're not playing with fire, are you, lad?"

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean."

"Change and uncertainty is good for you, you said. You dead sure about that?"

"Perfectly sure. I've got plans within plans and those plans have cute little baby plans. Now, look, ladies. You've already put on the single feeblest, most inept performance of any Chester team this season." Ouch. I wanted to say what about losing four-nil to Solihull but probably us losing to West was worse. "If you think you can play like that against Salford on Sunday and say 'oh we were distracted boo hoo' then not a single one of you will be here next season. I expect a serious and professional ninety-minute performance and a win. Then, if you want, you can put on some sackcloth and ashes and walk around with a sandwich board saying the end is nigh. Because your next match is January 19th and it'll all be over by then. So you've got to keep your head straight for one fucking match. Am I making myself crystal clear?"

I was getting worried he was going to keep yelling at us because I heard from my brother that Max tore strips out of the men one time and James nearly cried because he thought it would never end and it was like eternity in hell. But the women's team are built different. Angel said, "Is it true you was on the piss with the youth team's dads?"

"No," said Max, "I don't drink during the season and that's a dirty, scurrilous lie cooked up by people who want a takeover."

"It was all over social media. Footage of you dancing on a table in a Maccy-dees singing songs about yourself."

"Oh." Busted! He tried to style it out. "I mean, still no. That was a deepfake."

"Are we allowed to go on the piss in the week before a big match?" Angel was really enjoying herself!

"What big match?"

"You've got Altrincham away this Saturday."

"I'm allowed a couple of diet cokes five days before. Anyway, I've got a tactical plan for that one that will blow your socks off. Not your Christmas socks. Your normal socks."

Angel doesn't want to talk about socks. She's kicking Max's arse and everyone knows it. "I heard the Brig had to pick you up from the Deva and carry you home."

Max smiled but only for like half a second and then he said the thing I wanted you to remember because of what happened the next day. "See, this is the type of thing we're going to be hearing a lot of. People who want a takeover will be putting a load of this garbage out there. Opposition research they call it. You'll hear mad stories that I'm getting drunk with Bulldog and Mr. Roberts and buying a football club in Wales and I'm in London defending myself from an FA charge that I illegally own West Didsbury and that I'm running off to Brazil with Henri's girlfriend and that I'm stalking a coach I heard on a podcast and I'm getting the lads driving lessons from former commandos and - "

"Hang on," I blurted out, because normally when he goes on a little rant like that it's just a string of bullpoop. But I had inside information that said one of those things might have been real! "Defending yourself from an FA charge in London? Is that tomorrow? Is that why you want me and my dad to go to London? Am I part of it?"

"Oh no," said Max, taking tiny steps away from me and putting his index fingers up like a cross. "The takeoverers got to Kisi! They are among us! We need a purge! Where's the purge button?"

Jackie took over. "Thanks for the update, Max. We'll do our session now. Bye."

"Wait," said Charlotte. She loves it at Chester and she doesn't want anything bad to happen. "I'll be chill and I'll ignore Brooke - that's weird, I don't get it - just answer one question. Is it going to be all right?"

Max smiled. "Yes."

"Do you promise?"

"I promise."

Charlotte thought about it. I was convinced, but she turned to Jackie. "Did he say promise or pwomise?"

We all laughed and Angel pulled Charlotte further onto the pitch. "He said promise. Come on, Chester! Let's hustle."

***

I'm not sure if I feel dumb for typing all that because you were there but you weren't there for the next bit unless you're a master of disguise!

Me and my dad took the train from Manchester down to London - he wouldn't tell me why! - and we met Max. I wanted to ask him about all the chat on the socials about how the takeover had huge approval and Max would be binned off and people seemed fine with that but he was blabbing about how you could stand outside Romano's in the Strand and see the clock on the wall of the Law Courts and you could win good money betting on it with chaps who hadn't found it out. He definitely heard me but didn't want to talk about it. Suspish.

A few minutes later we met Emma and Emma's dad, Seb. Seb is like the coolest dad ever and he's handsome, too! And he's dead funny and he tells Max off, so he's pretty close to being perfect. He was in a suit and Emma was dressed so professional and Max was in his crappest hoodie. Seb complained about the outfit and Max said his washing machine was broken and Seb said 'no you're a provocative little ess oh bee'.

I didn't have much time to think about what was happening because suddenly we were deep into a courtroom scene and I realised Max was getting done by the Football Association! There were five guys behind a table on a platform, sort of looking down on us and that worried me and my dad but not anyone else. Four of the guys were white, but the one on the left might not have been. He was quite strange-looking and it was sort of upsetting to look at him but also he seemed like the friendliest one. Max reached into his backpack and took out a Nintendo Switch and played Zelda and my dad watched with big eyes until one of the guys coughed.

The guy in the middle, the boss guy, read out a charge - that Max Best against the rules and regulations as set out in the FA handbook did knowingly something something take control of a football club. He asked Max if he had anything to say at this time and I worried that we would be there for hours and I didn't have a Switch or a book or even some Fruit Pastilles. I need something to do when I'm bored, Dani! Or I go kerrrazzy!

Max opened his mouth to chat some shit but at that last second he looked at Seb and Seb took over. He handed out some copies of a document. "I'm sure we would all welcome a speedy resolution to this misunderstanding. Here is the current shareholding of West Didsbury and Chorlton AFC. Mr. Yalley here owns nine hundred and ninety-nine shares out of a thousand." The five dudes looked at my dad. I was convinced he would punch the air and shout 'Chester whoo!' But he didn't. He was nervous, I could tell, and he just sat there in his best church suit.

I touched him on the arm to tell him it would all be okay even though I don't really know that. Why does my dad have shares in a football club? How did he pay for them? Rumour is Max dropped a hundred grand on West. We don't have that kind of money. Mum cried when James bought her an air fryer. Nine hundred odd shares in West Didsbury and Chorlton? It's all crazy.

It took me far too long but it clicked that my dad had almost all of the shares. He was the owner. He owned a football club! My dad, who works at Manchester airport as a baggage handler, owns a football club! If this goes wrong somehow, I am going to batter Max Best.

"Max Best owns one share," said one of the FA people, pointing to the paper.

"He's allowed up to ten percent," said Seb.

"Not if the teams might compete against each other, as they recently did. For obvious reasons, players are strongly discouraged from owning shares."

"It's one share in his local club!" said Seb. "He's an increasingly famous player who will never forget his roots, where he came from, and he has one share. It's ceremonial! They're in tier nine!"

"We know he sets the transfer policy."

"Does the handbook say anything about giving advice? Of course it doesn't. There's no case to answer here. If you don't mind, I'd like to take my daughter to do some sightseeing."

The strange-looking guy slapped the table. "One share! Ceremonial! Lunch!" He got up and pushed his chair back under the table. The guy next to him did the same, and so did the one on the far right. They were making their way to the exit behind them when the guy in the middle shrugged.

"No case to answer," he said, making a note on a document and then picking the papers up. He chatted to the fifth guy as they followed the others out.

Seb and Emma picked up their document cases and Max slipped his Switch into his backpack. How did he celebrate this victory over the dastardly FA? He smiled at us and said, "I've nearly found the third Leviathan skeleton".

If this is the adult world, it's absolutely wild and much stranger than on TV.

We all piled out of a different door and went onto the street. We were waiting for a cab so I pulled Seb aside and asked if I needed to worry about this.

"No, pet," he said. "Max needed to give his shares to someone and your dad's the person he trusts most."

"What about you? Or Emma?"

"Emma owns a football agency. That's the problem. Players and agents can't own clubs." He gave me a kind look. "What are you worried about?"

"I don't know. I don't know what's going on. I don't want anything bad to happen to my dad because Max talks shit about the FA in the Cup final."

Seb smiled. "Max won't let anything bad happen and more usefully, neither will I."

"What if Max pisses you off and he breaks up with Emma and it's just me and my brother trying to save my dad? We don't know about all this stuff." I was on the verge of getting hysterical and I don't mean funny.

Seb put his hand on my shoulder and shook me around. "There's really nothing that can happen but if it does, I'll be there even if Max has finally gone too far. You call me anytime about anything, even if it's working out how to track a runner."

"Oh, what the shit!" I cried. "You an' all?"

He grinned and the cabs came and a few minutes later we were out on some random street in London.

"Don't you recognise where we are?" said Emma.

I looked around. It looked very London, if you know what I mean. Victorian houses. Black railings and lampposts. Just London. "Sherlock Holmes' house?"

"That's about fifteen minutes away," said Seb.

"This is Savile Row," said Emma. She was super happy, big smiles.

I said, "Wow, great!" and pretended to be just as happy.

Emma skipped into a shop. Max snuck to my side and sort of whispered. "It's loads of fancy tailors."

"Thanks!" I said, forgetting that I was mad at him.

I looked up before we went inside and saw that it was called Boateng Boateng. Ghanaian names!

I closed the door behind me and it was a wonderland of fabrics and suits and shirts and buttons and men's shoes. The shop smelled old but in a good way. It was, and I'm going to get poetic now, a space that spoke of class and refinement. Which suited Emma and Seb. Me, Max, and my dad, not so much.

It quickly became clear why we were there. Max's Christmas present from Emma and her dad was a fancy suit made by a famous tailor in London. The famous tailor, of course, was called Boateng.

In the middle of the space was this very recognisable type of Ghanaian man. In another city - in Manchester, in fact - he'd have been a normal guy who worked at the airport and went to church. But in London he spent his days measuring men and designing clothes. He himself looked incredible. He was lean but well-fed and his own suit was amazing. A walking advert for his own talents! He didn't smile much with his mouth but when Max started to get all Max he smiled with his eyes.

That came a tiny bit later. First it was Emma fluttering around the shop like Tinkerbell, pointing at this and that and demanding Max try it on post haste and she was very hyper and very charming and Max watched her go and he's so crazy about her and why wouldn't you be?

But then he dropped the bombshell.

"Okay, Ems, thing is, I work on the basis of need. I've got a top coach coming in for one session. Who needs it most? Cole Adams or Sharky? I think a lot about that kind of dilemma and I'm getting good at maximising my impact on the world. Maximising the amount of good I can do. So I've decided I want to pass on this wonderful gift to someone who needs it more than me - Mr. Yalley. He's a football club owner now. He needs to look smart to represent the people of Chorlton when he goes to football club owner meetings and that kind of thing."

Emma had deflated so much I nearly laughed and cried at the same time. "But Max," she whimpered. "It's for you."

"We'll come back next Christmas," declared Max, grandly.

"I'm open all year," said Boateng, and he and Max did twinkly eyes at each other.

Seb said, "Emma, pet, I agree with Max. Mr. Yalley needs a great suit."

Emma swallowed and took a few seconds to compose herself but then she kind of flipped a switch and she did her Tinkerbell thing again but now she was shopping for my dad!

"Come let me measure you," said Boateng, and I was about to translate but of course, he had said it in Akan. Dad was super happy to have someone to talk to who wasn't me and he chatted away, saying that Max and Seb are great men and the shop is wonderful and where in Ghana are Boateng's people from and so on and so forth. I was on edge the whole time waiting for him to say something cringe about taps or Jesus or whatever but Boateng was too busy working to worry about it.

"Max," I hissed. "I'm mad at you."

"What? Why?" He was pretending to be surprised and hurt. Definitely pretending!

"You're using my dad as a pawn in your wild schemes and I don't like it. You can't just put papers in front of him to sign. He probably thought it was something for Youngster."

"I took him to Pastor Yaw and explained the whole thing from top to bottom!"

"Pastor Yaw?"

"It's really not a big deal. I don't know why you're freaking out. He owns some shares. My mum has, like, a hundred shares in BT. It's a thing people do. Welcome to the world of high finance, Kisi." He made a dismissive little noise.

"Well," I said, because I was pretty sure I'd made a big mistake and my dad couldn't get in trouble from this. And maybe Max was actually hurt and not pretending. "Can you, just, can you tell me the scam? It's a scam, right? You beat the FA and it took five minutes and... But what? How?"

Do you know that thing where someone waves their hand in front of their face and they change their expression? Like, now I'm happy, hand, now I'm sad? This happened but without the hand. His face set like concrete, like those busts of old generals, fierce and firm. I was amazed his lips could move. "I want to play beautiful football and make people's lives better. Every single thing I think to do, there's a rule against it. I'm not allowed to own West. I'm not allowed to treat the kids to burgers after a match, I'm not allowed to provide healthcare, I'm not allowed to give away tickets to matches. All I want, Kisi, is to do the right thing. God knows it's hard enough to do that, but then it's a hundred times harder because there's a rule against everything. I don't have time to follow every stupid rule and regulation and I don't respect the rules, anyway. A rule that lets a random family from Tampa buy Manchester United and bleed it dry for twenty years until it's barely able to stand on its own two feet? That's not a rule I respect. So I did what those vampires did. If they can do it, so can I."

"What did they do?"

"You know what a share is, right? It's a little slice of a business. If you own a share you own a piece of a company and you get rights. One right is to vote at the business equivalent of the Fans Forum. It's actually very fair and very democratic. But turns out, the vampire's shares are not the same as yours. Your shares get you one vote but their shares get ten votes each."

"What? That's not fair."

"Vampires don't care about fairness because they don't care what you think. You're nothing to them; just another asset to bleed dry. But I thought, hey, I can do that! So your dad has almost a thousand shares and I've got one share but my share is worth seven million votes."

Dani, I was angry! Max was being so mean to my dad! "That's not right."

"Oh, I know. But I don't need to own West Didsbury. I just want to run it. Your dad agreed to be my frontman. Pastor Yaw loves what West is doing for the community and he's interested in copying it in Wythenshawe. You might get an All Nations Church FC! You have to help me make sure your brother doesn't try to join it when I'm sending him to West Ham for fifty million quid." He was easing out of his black mood and getting more like the normal Max.

I said, "So what's with the fancy suit? A bribe?"

"Fancy?" said Max, and he got a kind of a panicky look about him. He zoomed to the middle, where Emma and Boateng were discussing single button cuts with my dad as a mannequin. "Ah, hang on."

Boateng was sort of dangling a very sleek jacket in front of my dad. "What is the issue, Max Best?"

Max shook his head and got all dramatic. "He's never going to wear that. He wants a church suit, BB. You know what that means. If it's too nice he won't wear it. I want something he'll wear."

"I want something awesome," said Emma. "Boateng is the best tailor in London. He doesn't do basic church suits."

Max looked into the tailor's eyes. "Yeah he does. He makes the best bang-average church suit the world has ever seen. It looks ten percent better than everyone else's but it's ten thousand times more comfortable. Mr. Yalley slips it on and smiles but he doesn't quite know why. His wife is proud of him but not ashamed that he's lifting himself above the others."

This guy Boateng isn't used to being challenged, I don't think, but that's what Max does. He gets in your face and dares you to be better. For some reason, Boateng looked at me. "Miss Kisi, what do you think? Should I create a masterpiece or a..." He could barely say the words. "A comfortable church suit?"

I think it through. It seems obvious that if you can get a super-duper million-pound suit for free, you take it. But that's not what I end up saying. "I think Max understands us."

Boateng did one of those inside-sighs as he looked up at the ceiling. "Thirty percent."

"What?" said Max.

"I can't do ten percent better. Thirty percent better is as low as I can go."

Max laughed; Boateng's eyes crinkled. They're like super friends but later I find out this is the first time they've met. Max said, "What's your least interesting brown?"

Boateng grabbed a fabric colour sampler. In Akan, he asked my dad what colour he wanted. Dad chose the least interesting brown. Boateng closed his eyes like he was in pain. "Sebastian, you owe me big for this one." Seb mumbled something back but Boateng wasn't listening. He'd taken a step back and he was looking at my dad. He started drawing imaginary lines on him, mumbling, "yes, yes" and sort of holding lapels up and going "no, no" and it was super interesting to watch him work because he was doing it all in his head and we only got a sense of what was happening and I think - I've seen this before! It's Max! It's Max when he's coming up with a wild formation. False midfield, second button. Sweeper, front flap and vents. Peas in a pod!

Poor Emma, though. She thought she was coming to dress up her cute boyfriend but that turned into dressing my dad with his overlong arms. And Max even took that away from her and now she was watching Boateng create a simple, unpretentious church suit.

She tried to be brave but I saw the moment she turned around and picked up a shoe so that she could look sad for a minute.

From a few yards away, Max said, "Huh" in an odd voice and everyone turned to see what was going on. He was looking at a suit on a mannequin and feeling it. "I think I like this. Would this look good on me, babes?"

Emma squealed and grabbed Boateng. "Mr. Yalley can wait. Get that on Max, pronto."

***

We spent ages in the shop and we ordered two suits but we didn't actually pay for anything. Apparently it takes ages to make the suits and you pay when you get them. It's like the shop trusts you to pay. That's crazy!

My dad was happy, and Emma was holding onto Max. Apparently she doesn't mind that he plays little pranks on her! And wait till you see him in that suit, Dani...

We were having a nice day but we were tired and hungry so we popped into a pub for lunch. Seb and Emma are rich but they don't mind slumming it with us lot. Turns out, this random pub does the best pie in London.

My dad absolutely demolished a steak and kidney pie and I told him most of what the others were talking about. He was playing the Dani role! His English is improving a lot but he can't understand a word Seb says. Do you know about accents? When Seb talked to the FA people he was crystal clear but when he relaxes he gets what my English teacher used to call 'regional'.

I tried to bring up the topic of, like, the big American asteroid that was heading toward us and tried to show Max the latest poll saying 57% of Chester fans wanted a takeover even if Max wasn't part of it but he said 'duh! It's not an asteroid you're thinking of a comet' and Seb said 'no it's a meteor' and we talked about that.

Max checked the time and said let's get overpriced mulled wine I know a great place. We got in taxis again and ten minutes later we were somewhere else - London is so massive and I had no sense of where I was and it was making me dizzy. Max yelled, "In here, gang!"

And it was the Natural History Museum and I'm thinking what? Why? Max sometimes bangs on about hedgehogs but he's not really into biology or whatever. Not really. So we sat in the little cafe there - they don't sell mulled wine - and suddenly Brooke turned up! With Zach Green! And some rando!

It was Zach's dad. The dentist! He'd come to England to work for free but Max heard he likes dinosaurs so it was dinosaur day. Max, Seb, and Emma treated Dr. Green like he was the guest of honour. Turns out, he's called James, same as my brother, and he's the nicest man ever. He made me think of a friendly neighbourhood postman in, like, Yorkshire. He's quiet and he's always checking the area but he's always ready to deliver a smile.

Museums are super boring and I think Max was having regrets about setting it up, even if Dr. Green was having a whale of a time. (This was supposed to be a joke about the whale skeletons we saw but they were at the end.) Okay so what felt like hours and hours of totes boredom came with two interesting memorable moments.

First was when we went into this huge room and there was a massive dinosaur skeleton. It was fourteen metres tall! It was called a Titanosaur and honestly it was crazy to go into the room and see it just there. Really scary, really impressive. If seeing Harry Styles walking around Crewe would be ten out of ten, this was a really good eight. But Zach and his dad lost their minds. To them it was eleven. Or twelve! "Wow! Wow!" I think Zach wanted to do a chest bump but he settled for high-fiving his dad and they just kept going round saying "Wow!" and hugging each other.

"That's a beefy boy," said Max, craning his neck like we all were.

"Biggest land animal of all time, boss!" said Zach. That made me think.

"It'd be good on set pieces," mused Max.

Dr. Green didn't know much about football but he knew a lot about dinosaurs. "An animal that size, Max, needs super efficient lungs. And a big, big heart."

Max looked back at him. "Your family would know a thing or two about big hearts, I reckon."

Dr. Green smiled and put his arm around Zach, who looked at his dad like he was his absolute favourite person in the world. I kind of got closer to my dad and grabbed his arm. And Emma did the same with her dad and Max and we all kind of looked up at this huge monster who had brought us all together and it was a crazy amazing moment but I thought, what about Brooke? And I checked and she wasn't looking at Max, like I'd expected, but at Zach. And she seemed lonely so I went over and hung out with her for a while which I'm sure was the highlight of her day. Not!

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The second thing I suppose followed on from that. We were going round looking at all the fossils, and I mean, come on! They're dead. They're old. They're dead old and they're boring. But Zach and his dad were losing their shit about everything and they came to this big fish thing called an Ichthyosaur and they were ooing and aahing and I was like come on it's a fish. And Zach got like super into telling me about it and remember Brooke is right there.

"No, Kisi! These creatures were amazing and this one here was found by Mary Annings. In those days, women weren't allowed to go to school but she turned herself into the top palaeontologist in the country! Her brother found this head and she found the rest. When she was twelve, Kisi!" I was kinda thinking, okay, she found some rocks but Zach was so hyper it was making me smile and he was so focused on me he didn't see this curly-haired woman come closer, not hiding the fact that she listening. "And she found the first plesiosaur and the UK's first pterosaur!" He led me to the fish. "Look at these teeth! Is it a fish or a lizard? Both! That's why they're called Ichthyosaurs, you see?" I didn't see, but he didn't see that I didn't see.

The curly-haired woman was a real science girl. "Ichthyo is the prefix for fish and saur is a suffix meaning reptile."

Zach noticed she was there and gave her a big, white smile. But then he turned a hundred percent focus back on me, which, to be honest, was perfectly acceptable. "Look at the eyes, Kisi! This eye's enormous for a predator. See the bony plates? With these, this magnificent bastard could go real deep and real dark. Ten metres long, this fella. You think Jaws is scary? This guy's got him licked!"

"You know your way around a fish lizard." This was the science girl and Zach seemed to really look at her for the first time. She had that big curly hair, as I said, big glasses, really pretty face, and tight leather trousers. I mean, smoking hot.

"Aww, no," Zach said, all modest. "I like to read about 'em but my pa's the real brains." He looked around but his dad was gasping over some slightly different dead fish. Zach's oversized energy dimmed as he, once again, forgot there were three women hanging off his every word. "I, uh, just liked how much he loved all this stuff and, kinda, used it as an excuse to spend time with him. And, yeah, some of it rubbed off, I guess."

The science girl was enjoying the conversation but Max shoved himself into the scene. I knew his ways; he was going to steal Zach's girl! "Do you like football?"

Science Girl was slightly put out, but smiled anyway. "Yeah, sometimes."

Max sort of slapped Zach's shoulder blade. "Zach's the best defender in the National League."

"Oh!" See, Dani, I didn't think that was a good thing to say. I mean, we know the National League isn't that high but the way Max said it, it was like he was saying Zach was the best in the Premier League.

"Yeah, I'd say he's the strong, athletically dominant silent type but if you need a passionate pre-match rallying cry, Zach's your man."

Science Girl was smiling non-stop. "Is he?"

"The guy's fast as fuck. Sorry for swearing. I mean, I love watching him play but I wish more people knew he had such a big old brain in there to go with his hyper-efficient lungs." Max shook his head, pretending to be sad. "But all they see is the absurdly talented athlete out walking his three dogs."

"Oh, you've got dogs?" said Science Girl, as Max slipped away.

So he was being a wingman! It certainly gave Science Girl a lot to ask Zach about and soon enough he was showing dog pics on his phone. Oh! And his phone was out! He got her number nice and smooth. Yeah, I thought it was quite nice of Max, actually, but Brooke seemed pretty disgusted. It's always hard to tell what she's thinking but, yeah, she didn't seem happy. I had to walk-run to catch up with her and I kept her company for a while until we'd seen the whale skeletons and we were allowed to go.

***

A bit later we were up in the London Eye. Have you ever done it? It's 135 metres high and you go round in a big circle for 35 minutes looking at London. The Houses of Parliament are just there, there's Buckingham Palace, and Max said he could see Battersea Dog's Home and argh! I didn't know if he was joking. I think that was the moment I decided I needed to work on my lie detector game. Remember that string of crazy gibberish he said when he was telling us about the takeover? That's about to make a dramatic return to this delightful tale.

The Eye is super touristy and I didn't think Max would like it but he did. Seb had bought us fast track tickets so we skipped some of the queue and we had to share a capsule with some randos but it was all right. We went round for fifteen minutes while Zach and his dad talked about how Big Ben isn't the clock, it's the bell, and they knew loads about the Thames Barrier and stuff like that. My dad lapped it all up and the more he said how interesting it was, the more facts the Greens dug out of their arse.

In my free time - the seconds between ALL THE INFORMATION - I was thinking about the day so far - it was such a whirlwind, not sure if that's coming through - and I wondered if Boateng was gay. I excused myself from the factathon and went to talk to Max and Emma on the other side of the capsule.

"Do you think Boateng is gay? I've never met a gay Ghanaian."

Max barked at me. "Don't talk shit," he said. "Of course you have. There are two hundred people in your congregation. Think of the percentages. Do not talk shit in the capital. This is the capital city of Great Britain and Northern Ireland and that little place in the ocean where they dumped all the mutineers. Have some respect for the capital by not talking shit. For fuck's sake."

Well, I knew he wasn't really mad because he's always talking about London like it's something the cat dragged in and he acts like Manchester's the real capital. But my dad was worried. "Dad's asking what's going on," I said. I didn't want to translate because Max was saying some people in our church were gay and I didn't want to have that argument with my dad. Just, er, no. But I couldn't think of a cover. "What do I say?"

Max gave dad a friendly dig on the upper arm and said, "Tell him I was at a house and their sinks had three taps. One hot, one cold, one lukewarm."

I did and my dad couldn't believe it. "It's so stupid," he kept saying. "Too stupid for words."

"Yes," said Max, happily. "It's very modern."

Of course, that sent my dad over the edge and he laughed his arse off and I had to explain it to Brooke and Dr. Green. Of course, Dr. Green couldn't believe most houses in the UK had separate taps for hot and cold water but my dad now keeps a folder of photos from different places he goes and Dr. Green's eyes were proper bulging.

"I learned recently that eight percent of men are colour blind," said Max. "I said it to Vimsy and he said yeah, sure, but not here. Meaning Chester Football Club. Meaning Chester Football Club is exempt from demographics or statistics. I asked him, what do you think eight percent means? He just didn't want to believe it. Didn't want to think about it for more than one second."

The initial touristness of the Eye had kind of worn off. It wasn't boring but we were going round in a big circle and there's only so many times you can say 'oh that's The Shard' and 'ooh Zach when are you going to text your new girlfriend'. So we were all ready to talk about something else and that was either going to be statistics or football. Emma chose for us. She sat next to Dr. Green and said, "Do you watch all Zach's games?"

"Well, I'd sure like to, but he isn't on the box all that often. I listen to, what's the fella? Boggy? I godda be honest, though. I don't understand much of what he says. It's so arcane. On a hat trick means you've scored two goals, not three. What gives?"

"I can teach you," said Brooke. "I learned a lot in the last few months."

"Dr. Green," said Max. "Do you understand that players can't just attack? They have to think about defending, too?"

"Of course."

"Oh. So you already understand the sport better than Kisi."

"Hey!" I cried, but I couldn't be too mad because everyone was laughing. And, of course, I got a double dose because I had to translate it for my dad and he tried not to laugh and that set everyone else off again. "Max! Why are you giving me shit? I do what you do."

"What?" cried Zach. "Sorry, Kisi, you're real talented but you do not do what Max does."

"I do! He drifts around not doing anything until he gets the ball. Saving energy so he can be more dynamic!"

Max breathed out and his eyebrows went all the way up his forehead. He looked out across London and said, "I go where the team needs me. If I let a midfielder run past me it's a calculation. Is Zach gonna take the ball off him? If he is then I'm in crazy space for the counter. I've been watching every matchup for seventy minutes, Kisi, and I know Zach's got him on toast. It's five percent chance they score, fifteen percent chance we score. As the resident floating megabrain I'm happy to make that calculation, do you know what I mean?"

"You want Kisi to play more defensive," said Dr. Green, trying to understand.

"No," said Max. "I want her to play all-out attack all the time because she's incredible. But that's not how it goes in real life. Other teams have good players too and you need to respect them and respect your team mates by not dumping them in the shit unless there's a good reason. Zach fucking hates when I let players dribble at him but I pick the team and I think I'm a pretty good player so he just has to suck it up." Max did a big smile while Zach grinned and shook his head. "Kisi should be starting by now but no-one can get through to her. She needs to start matches with full intensity, full two-way player. When she's got the percentages locked down she can decide if it's okay to get more slappy."

"Slappy?"

Brooke explained. "It's where they attack more. Especially down the wings, meaning the sides. Kisi can play in the centre or along the sides. She's real good." Brooke's my fave! She's a ledge!

Max is not my fave. He said, "See, Dr. Green, there are matches where I go on the pitch and don't do any slaps at all. Who was it recently, Zach, where we had to defend non-stop?"

Emma knew. "Gateshead!"

Seb nodded. "Backs to the wall. Can't remember seeing Max throwing himself at shots like that."

Max said, "Kisi's got a brother who plays defensive midfield. That's sometimes called the pivot because the play revolves around him. Imagine we're playing 3-5-2." Max shaped his hands so that his fingers and thumbs were touching each other and he moved them around an imaginary pitch. "They shuffle left, right, up, down. Youngster's in the middle, there, he's disciplined. Working for the team. But he's smart and when he sees the time's right he can slap."

"He's the heart of the heart," said Brooke.

Max didn't get it, but I did. "You're doing a heart shape with your hands!"

"Er, no. That's three-five-two."

Dr. Green said, "Where is he today? Didn't want to come to the Big Smoke?"

"He's in Togo," I said. That made his eyes pop! Very satisfying. "He's been playing the AFCON under twenty qualifiers. It's like the World Cup for Africa. They played three matches in the group stage. James - oh! Same name as you! Youngster's his stage name. He played one minute of the first match against Burkina Faso."

"One minute?"

"Managers do that to waste time at the end of matches."

"Not Max," said Zach, sort of proud.

"Ssh," said Max. "Go on, Kisi."

"Then he played ten minutes against Nigeria. That was to help shut the game down because we were winning. I mean, Ghana were winning. He got two interceptions! And he played the whole third match against Benin which he said was because they were almost sure to go through and the manager wanted to rest his best players but I don't believe that. And he was voted Player of the Match!"

"It was actually a kid called Ayew," said Max. "Kisi thinks it should have gone to her brother."

"You agreed with me!" I said, annoyed.

"We're biased," said Max. "He was good, though. After that, loads of clubs called us to ask for tickets to our next home games. It's pretty funny, really."

"What's funny?" I said.

"Nothing. Yeah, anyway, he's doing great. You could see he was nervous in that third game but in the semi-final he looked at home. Like, these guys aren't better than what I play against every week. I can do this."

"What did you mean, it's funny? I hate when you say weird things you don't explain!"

Max looked at me. "This takeover, right, is like fifty percent because of your brother."

"What!" I cried.

"What!" said Brooke.

Guess what? This reaction pleased Max no end. "The people trying to buy the club think they know how to assess football players. They think Youngster's good, right? And just as they announce their bid, he's out there adding millions to his transfer value. That's funny."

"What's funny about that?" I demanded, but Max declined to tell me.

"This takeover is unwelcome, I take it," said Dr. Green.

"It's all anyone's talking about," said Zach. "It's really frustrating. We're trying to win matches and it's like whatever we do, the fans use it as proof we need a takeover. It must be ten times as hard for the boss and twenty for Miss Star."

"We don't need to talk about this," complained Max. "It's not going to happen."

Zach got a sly look on his face. "See, dad, the boss has a plan. He's giving players new contracts and that's going to save the club. But we can't work out the mechanism."

Dr. Green smiled. He likes a puzzle. "What's the trick?"

"That's just it!" said Zach, getting enthusiastic again. I glanced at Brooke and couldn't tell what she was thinking. Zach was talking with his hands. "We've been through everything. First, I was thinking there was maybe a squad limit. You could only have twenty-five in the squad and he was filling up those slots. But there isn't and they could still take over. Sure, they'd have to wait till summer to do any business, but so what? Can't be that. Then we were thinking about how maybe you can only sign a certain number of contracts per season or something like that, but our contracts don't really come under football law, they come under contract law. There are no limits. We could sign a new contract every day if there was any reason to do that. Sorry, Miss Star, am I annoying you?"

We turned to look at her but whatever expression had been on her face was gone. "No, I'm riveted. I've had all these thoughts myself. Please continue, Zach."

Dr. Green spoke first. "The new contracts are different. There's a clause. Something sneaky in there."

"They're identical," said Brooke. "Except the salary's a little higher."

"That's it, then," said the older Green. "Salary caps."

"There's no salary cap, dad."

"And Max is comfortably under his budget," said Brooke.

"Hang on," I said. I pointed at Emma and Seb. "You're very quiet all of a sudden. Do you know?"

Seb's eyebrows rose just a fraction. He pointed. "Emma, is that Buckingham Palace?"

I gasped. "You know! Max! Tell us, too!"

He rolled his eyes. "Can we talk about something else? This is boring."

Zach didn't think it was boring. "I've worked it out."

"You have?" said Brooke.

"It's the dates. See, when Pascal was going to cancel his contract, the dates were wrong. They'd been written 'all American' as he called it. This takeover, if it happens, will be mid-January. When do our contracts run out? The end of May for most of the lads."

"Not for you?" said Dr. Green.

"I came from a higher level and up there the standard expiry date is June 30th. Max has mumbled to some players that when we get promoted we'll start to renew contracts on the June 30th basis."

"I don't understand," I said.

"Right! Right! Get this. I've not signed a new deal yet but when it does, I'll bet your bottom dollar the date is July second."

"Oh!" said Brooke, smiling.

"What?" I said, annoyed. "First, second. What's the difference?"

Brooke got Zachlike in her enthusiasm. "July second. Seven-two. Write that 'all American' you get 7/2. I would glance through the contract and see July second, but here in the UK it would mean the seventh of February! Zach would be free to leave a couple of weeks after the takeover! Max! It's brilliant!"

Max did this weird thing where he squirmed so that his forearms were covering his face. He turned it into a big stretch before looking at us with sort of no energy. "It's clever but it's not brilliant. I'm not going to trick my players into signing weird contracts. Zach will know exactly what he's signing when he signs it." He got a little sad. "If the buyer wants to buy and the seller wants to sell, there's nothing you or I or anyone can do. But I'm telling you now, the buyer doesn't want to buy and the seller doesn't want to sell. The depressing thing is why the fans even want to consider it. So let's all just drop it so I can have a lovely old day in, er, London."

Zach bit his bottom lip while making little clicking noises. He was still trying to work it out! "I don't buy it. You've got a trick up your sleeve. It's definitely the contracts. Pascal said something about spelling Chester wrong."

Max laughed pretty hard at that suggestion, but Brooke nodded. "Or the contracts are a distraction."

"Red herring?" said Zach.

"Magic trick. Look over here! Look over here! Don't look over there where I've got the real solution. It can't be the contracts because I checked, like, the first six new ones and they were identical. I-den-ti-cal."

Max was smiling. "Did you check the seventh?"

"No. Should I?" Max smirked and walked away. Brooke got her phone out and I think made a note to herself. "What I don't get is why he's letting it drag out. He could score a goal and run around shouting 'not for sale' and that might be the end of it."

Zach sat on the little bench in the middle of the capsule and put his chin in his palms. "He wants it to drag out. But why? Uncertainty is bad for the squad. Players are distracted. It's bad for the transfer window. He said he won't make trades until this is resolved."

Brooke went to sit next to him. "If he's letting it build up because he's a drama queen and he wants to make it a big story in the match before the Fans Forum, he's taking a big risk because the weather's looking bad for the next few weeks. It could be we don't play any matches in that time!"

They were getting on great, suddenly, but it was odd that we were all watching them have this Holmes and Watson moment. I saw my big chance to find out if Max had been lying to us and yeah, also to get a bit of revenge for all the digs. I pretended to be helping to solve the mystery as I said, "Maybe it's something to do with the team he's buying in Wales."

I swear I felt the capsule shudder. Everyone looked at me, then at Max.

Emma almost looked angry. "What?"

Seb very definitely looked angry. "You. Are not allowed. To own a football club."

Max kept an innocent look and pointed. "Is that Buckingham Palace?"

Emma said, "What have you done?"

"I haven't done anything," he said, laughing. He took a few steps to the side so he could do bigger gestures to a bigger crowd. "It's not my fault the Welsh FA wants to get into bed with me. They're all like 'oh Max you're such a generational talent can you solve Welsh football please' and I'm like 'I don't know I should definitely check with my girlfriend first' and they're all like 'oh why don't you surprise her on Christmas morning?' And I was going to." Oh shit, Dani! I'd put my foot in it big time.

Seb said, "I'm just going to say it now. I'm not working for free in your cases against the Welsh FA."

Max sort of rubbed his mouth. Pretty sure he thought it was totes lolz. "I understand." Max looked at Emma - I think he was checking how mad she was - then narrowed his eyes at me. I gulped. Max turned to the dentist. "Right, Dr. Green. We've got to talk about your sched."

"No way are you changing the topic," said Emma.

"I can't say anything here!" whinged Max. "Babes! The FA have spies all over London! Everyone knows that. For once I haven't been dumb or reckless. I'll tell you later. The whole story. Pwomise."

Emma's super smart and she always seems to know what to say and what to do but now she just opened and closed her mouth.

"Kay good," said Max. "So, Dr. Green. Today was big dinosaur day and London Eye. Tomorrow's the media blitz. Saturday morning we're whisking you to Manchester to watch your son shut out Altrincham. Sunday you can do American things. What do Texans do on Sundays? Eat waffles and drive quad bikes?" The three Americans looked offended and guilty. "Monday we're going to a racing circuit thing. Tuesday is Liverpool day. Ryan Jack and Jackie Reaper are taking you guys to do the Beatles tour and there's a big Christmas market and, yeah, I don't know what they've got planned. I suspect they want to take you on the Anfield stadium tour but they were too chickenshit to say that to my face."

"I've been thinking about that. Can I go?" said Brooke.

"Sorry, there's only space for four tourists in Liverpool."

"Sure you can come," said Zach. "The more the merrier."

"Sorry," I said, interrupting. "When's he going to do all the fillings and that?"

I had turned Max's face to concrete again. Brooke explained in a soft voice. "Dr. Green isn't allowed to work in England. He needs to get special forms and permissions and there wasn't enough time."

"That's stupid!" I said.

"The rules are to stop any old fool coming here and prodding and poking in people's mouths," said Dr. Green. "That's understandable."

"But you're not any old fool! Max said you're the most famous dentist in Texas!"

Dr. Green looked embarrassed. "I wouldn't say that."

"Kisi, name a dentist from Texas," said Max.

"Dr. Green."

"Name another one."

"I can't."

"Bosh," said Max. "Look, this is the shit I have to deal with non-stop. It's grinding me down. We've got a full-blown crisis in this country and what's the solution? A tiny little lawnmower engine and massive fuck-off Rolls Royce brakes. It should be possible to call someone and say I've got the Lionel Messi of dentists coming for a week is that all right? And they should go yes, yes please. Also, they should fucking say thank you so much for doing this we don't know how to do it because we are dogshit." Emma went over and gave him a calming hug.

"So..." I said, "What's the media blitz?"

Brooke said, "The concept is that Dr. Green heard from his son about how bad things are over here and he just wanted to help."

"Which is true," said Zach, miring his dad some more.

Max took over. "We've invited loads of media outlets, Kisi. TV companies, Daily Mail, the usual. A famous dentist from the states has come to do, like, emergency fillings because things are so bad here. When he does, like, charity trips, which he does because he's the absolute best person, it's normally to remote areas of Nicaragua. But now it's to Chester because that's our level. It's the state of the whole country focused down into one little story. We will get mad publicity for this which, long-term, will help us set up our own clinic and help us get loads of applicants when we're looking for dentists and assistants. Do you get it?"

"But what about Dr. Green? If he's not allowed to work, he'll get in trouble!"

"He's not going to do anything," said Max. "Brooke found two local dentists with the right approvals who are willing to work for double pay. That makes them sound like dicks - I'm actually really grateful and this was supposed to be their Christmas holiday. So the real work will be done by those people. Dr. Green will be the frontman, like your dad is for West."

My head was spinning. "But this will be on the news? And someone from the government will say oi, he's not allowed, and there will be hearings and trouble! Stop getting into trouble!"

"The only people getting into trouble," growled Max, "is anyone stupid enough to investigate what we're doing. Because Beth is with me on this one hundred percent. We will let them start their investigation and then show how we actually had two licensed dentists doing the work and we'll calculate how much money they wasted investigating us and how many fillings that could have paid for. And I'll give them a choice. Either pre-approve any fucking dentist I want to use whenever I want to use them or your face is on the cover of the Daily Mail in the morning. Do you see? I want them to come at me. It's a trap, Kisi."

I thought I kind of got it. "Like the takeover."

Max gave me a special look, then. One I don't see very often. He was impressed. But he blinked and it was gone. He said, "James is a ledge, letting us do this, an absolute ledge. It won't be his hand on the drill but we're going to fill holes in teeth the way midfielders fill holes in our formation when someone dribbles past them."

Another jibe! Another attack on my person! I snapped. "What did you mean about running off to Brazil with Henri's girlfriend?"

"What?" said Seb, taking a big step forward.

Max glared at me. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing," I said. "Hey, is that Buckingham Palace?"

***

Before we all went our separate ways, I made sure I got some time alone with Emma and apologised for blurting out about the team in Wales. I said I wasn't sure if Max had been joking when he said it and I didn't know he was saving it as a surprise.

"He probably had a funny thing planned that would get us all exasperated," she said, smiling affectionately. "Then he'd explain why it was all fine. Fine in his head, anyway."

"I ruined the surprise, though. I wish I hadn't."

"I don't know, K. Finding out a hundred metres above the Thames was pretty dramatic."

It was good she wasn't too bothered about it, but I didn't think she was seeing the whole picture. "But Seb was angry."

"He wasn't."

"He was! He said he'd stop helping Max!"

Emma smiled. "He didn't mean it. Anyway, it's all good practice. Dad's setting up a special football unit. It'll be part of the company but based in Manchester. You know Gemma, right? She's learning all the football rules. My dad's building up experience of all the case types and because Max can't stay out of trouble, we're learning fast." She smiled again. She's crazy about that boy! "If he's really bought a team in Wales I'm sure we'll soon get a crash course in international sports law." She laughed to herself. "I don't want a dull life. Do you?"

***

The next day the stories about the takeover took a back seat and there was all the dentist stuff. Loads of the first team, loads of kids and parents, it was a big party atmosphere in a big tent outside the clinic Max rented. Dr. Green 'treated' one little blonde girl who apparently is in our under twelves and she came out smiling and there were loads of TV cameras and your friend and mine Bethany Alban was there with a Daily Mail photographer. It felt natural at first but every now and then, Brooke, Bethany, and Max would get together and some people would get moved around and I think it was to make sure there were better photos. Uggos to the back! For someone who pretends not to care about image, Max knows how to stage-manage a scene.

What else? Oh, Zach was around and he was kind of the second hero of the day after his dad. He had a little model of a mouth and he was teaching kids - and parents - how to brush their teeth properly. Every now and then, Glenn Ryder and Ziggy would sing a new chant they'd created:

"He's lean, he's mean, his teeth are fucking clean, Zach Green! Zach Green!"

They only said the f-word when there were no kids around, otherwise they said 'really clean'.

Yeah, that was pretty much what happened while the tent was up. We were only allowed it for a few hours and every time someone came down from 'seeing Dr. Green' there was a big cheer and someone had the idea to give them a carrot and to chant 'Chomp! Chomp! Chomp!' until they bit into it but Zach put a stop to that. It was funny, though.

Charlotte was around and she was dead emotional. I said what's up and she said this was what she wanted to do with her life and we had to stick with Max and help him with this takeover and I said he didn't need our help and it kind of surprised me that I believed it. I told her how he had batted the FA away with a swish of his tennis racquet and a little bit of hope came into her eyes. I said he's got big plans to start up our own clinic so he thinks he's going to be in charge for years. He's really confident, I said, and she was coming out of her funk so I went: we've got to get three points on Sunday, that's how we help Max! Dani, that was the best thing I've ever said. Actual fire came out of her eyes! She's going to mess Salford up, you watch.

***

The next day was Saturday and I went to watch the men play Altrincham because that's like a minute from my house, same as Crewe's a minute from yours. I was next to Brooke and Dr. Green. Brooke was wearing a West bobble hat and it turned out she was in disguise as Emma because she really wanted to watch this match.

The Texans talked about Texas most of the time, but after about fifteen minutes the doc asked me what was going on and I went all Zach.

"It's so interesting! Alty are doing 4-2-3-1 but they don't have great DMs or CAMs! What are they thinking? Max has us doing a 4-4-2. Looks like he wants us to be solid until Alty make a change. He said they were going to switch to 4-3-3 at some point and then he was going to demo The Slappening."

"Thanks, Kisi," he said, but I think he raised his eyebrows at Brooke. The cheek!

I checked the area to see if there was a curly-haired science boy listening with a big smile on his face, but there were only some grumpy Alty directors. I pulled a face like 'what?' and they turned away. Rude!

First half was a bit grindy but interesting because Max and Sandra were doing tweaks like dropping Wisey and bringing Aff more inside. For a while I thought I saw Carl Carlile play as a wing back.

In the minutes before half time I was wondering what scran we'd get because the directors get the good stuff, don't they? And that's when I realised that if Max and Seb were being honest with me, my dad was going to be invited to every West match and he'd get the good pies! No-one would be able to talk to him but they'd enjoy watching him eat.

"Kisi, let's go inside," said Brooke, because the whistle had gone.

"Wait, Emma," I said, respecting her disguise like a pro. "What's Max doing?"

"Oh, no," she said. "Oh, boy. What now?"

Max was walking across the pitch when the referee stopped him. Max pointed to something in the far stand and the ref said oh okay. And they went over together. "Now the referee is involved," I said. "That's not good."

"Miss Weaver?" said a waitress. "We're serving."

"One sec," said Brooke.

"He's talking to that woman." Vimsy and the Brig had gone over to check on him, and suddenly Vimsy rushed across the pitch and then he was peering up into the stands and when he spotted us, he waved desperately. I pointed to me and to Brooke. He wanted Brooke. "It's you."

"Oh!" Brooke went down and Vimsy opened the little gate thing for her and she walked across the pitch.

"What's going on?" said Dr. Green.

"Don't know, but our pies are getting cold. Let's tuck in."

"Pies were invented in ancient Egypt," he said.

"Max would make a joke about pie-ramids. Come on."

We went to eat and three minutes later, Brooke came up to join us. "That boy!"

"What?" I said, my gob heaving with delicious VIP pie.

She did a little smile. "You know the way kids hold up signs saying 'Harry Kane can I have your shirt?' There was an Altrincham fan holding up a sign. 'Max Best can I have your dentist?' Max thought it was funny and so did the referee so of course we had to go sort that out right away. We're getting her an appointment and it'll double the publicity, sure, but I told him it could wait until full time and maybe he should be in the locker room working on a plan."

"We're going to switch to 4-2-4," I said.

Brooke gave me a long look. "That's what he said. When did he tell you that?"

"Monday."

Dr. Green whistled. "Some kid. Zach wasn't sure for a while. He is, now."

Brooke sliced into her pie - she had a lot of catching up to do. "How's he getting on with his museum girl?"

Dr. Green smiled. "I don't know. I don't interfere in his private life. I try to give him space. If he wants to tell me, he can tell me and I'll gladly listen." He dabbed his lips with a napkin. "The only thing I say is, if you're ever in trouble, you call me right away. If you've been arrested or you're in hospital or whatever it is, you call me and I'll be there, no questions asked, just let me be there for you."

Brooke was having trouble with her knife and she saw me notice and pulled her hands away and put them on her lap. "You're a great dad."

"I don't know about that. I think Kisi's winning the good dad contest."

I couldn't believe my ears. "What? No way. You're so cool. So's Seb. Meghan's dad's the funniest guy ever."

"Yours is pretty amazing, Kisi," said Brooke. She was cutting into the pie all right now.

"He's okay but he's boring. He works and goes to church and that's it."

"Sounds like the perfect dad," said Dr. Green. "A young lady like yourself probably thinks this is hokey old baloney and maybe it is but I think the most important thing for a parent is trust. My dad would always say one thing and do another. I tried to be better than that with Zach. It was just the two of us for a long time and I thought it was real important that he had someone he could trust." He nodded towards the pitch. "I've heard a heck of a lot about that young superstar out there and trusting people don't come real easy to him. Am I right?" I nodded. Sometimes Max looks so alone and his mum's not... My throat was all tight and I couldn't have spoken. Dr. Green did a little nod. "In this world, you need someone you can trust with your life. I'm that for Zach, I hope. He'll be that for his kids. And your father is that for Max Best. He needs to park a hundred thousand pounds? He doesn't choose me or Sebastian or Meghan's dad." He did a big, warm smile that messed me up. "It's Mr. Yalley all day long." He stared into his past. "I've been around the block. Max is a lucky, lucky boy to have met the Yalleys."

So that set me off blubbing, and I got a big, warm hug from Brooke. "You've said something nice. Now you've got to tell me off for not tracking my runners," I said, voice shaking. "It's tradition."

Dr. Green laughed. "I barely know what that means. But Zach started out as a midfielder."

That shocked me so much the tears stopped all at once. "He did?"

"Yep. He wanted to play like Pirlo. I think I'm saying that right."

"Pirlo, yes, that's right."

"Not real into the other side of the pitch." His eyebrows went up. "One day there's a new coach. Played for Sweden. Bit of a maverick but he could still do it all and the kids were in awe of him. He took one look at Zach and said, 'centre back.'" Dr. Green's face lit up with the memory. "Zach hated it. Quit every week."

"And what happened?" I said, waiting for the secret. The secret of learning to love defending!

"Nothing happened. He kept at it."

"Oh."

"You know what the worst part of being a dentist is?"

"What?" I was sure he'd say the paperwork or the long hours.

"The teeth."

I sort of made a gross snorting noise while Brooke showed her pearly whites.

"Kick off's soon," said our waitress. "Was everything okay?"

"Pies are from Egypt," I said, proud of my new fact.

She looked at the mostly-empty plates. "No, they're from Morecambe."

"Everything was perfect," said Brooke. "Thank you very much." She took a few seconds, turned to Dr. Green, and showed why Max thinks she's a ledge. "When Max hears that story he's gonna wanna know if that coach is still around. Can you dig out his email?"

***

Max Best, then, and his jokes. When's he joking? I learned one thing. He wasn't joking when he said he would change to 4-2-4 if Alty went 4-3-3. They did and he did and he even brought himself on early. He had Aff on the left and sent Sharky on to play right. Henri and Ziggy as strikers.

The thirty minutes he was on the pitch were so intense the Texans didn't even talk about Texas more than, like, eight times.

First, Max crashed into a couple of Alty's terrier midfielders. Letting them know he wasn't going to take their shit. Then he spent a few minutes ripping the piss with one-touch passes and nutmegs. He did one spin thing where he was rolling the ball back and forth sending them darting off with every little pump of his leg. Then he back-flicked the ball to himself and chipped the ball left to Aff. Aff sprinted, crossed, Henri was fouled, nothing given, but the ball bounced off a defender and Ziggy tucked it away. One-nil!

Then Max was over helping Eddie Moore and they played a couple of passes to each other that left Alty wide open. It was unbelievable quality! Max drilled the ball left-footed, like, fifty yards but it kept spinning and spinning and then it was right in Sharky's path! He took it to the goal line and pulled it back. Henri - bosh! Two-nil!

We jumped and cheered and when we settled down, Dr. Green said, "So you play like Max?" and I had to go, ah, no. I do not.

Which was, like, embarrassing but when you're dealing with cool dads you've got to build trust.

Okay but there's a reason Alty were sixth and we were seventh and they switched things round and got back into the game and put loads of pressure on. A bit too much pressure, I thought, but while we'd gone to 4-4-2 to be more compact, Max was suddenly not doing his defensive work. I wanted to jump around going 'See? See?'

But I kept my gob shut and watched.

Alty scored. Then scored another. Two-all and it was all going to bleep. But Max didn't seem too fussed and neither did Zach. Everyone kept doing what they were doing.

Alty went for the win. Kept pressing. Kept pushing.

Now, if you ask me, Brooke and Dr. Green can't handle the pressure of watching high-level sports. They were gasping and recoiling and swearing with every little goal-line clearance or missed header or free kick that went just over. Me? Dispassionate. Analytical.

And don't let Brooke tell you otherwise.

So it was all a bit bonkers but I was trying to keep an eye on Max. And, okay, I realised I hadn't been watching properly before. He does defend. He does track back. When I was thinking 'oh bleep it's happening' he would be sprinting back into the box to do a clearing header or he'd be helping Carl at right back and Alty would only get a throw. But sometimes, sometimes, he would be following a player back and he'd look around and take a few steps back. He would be in acres of space and if we could get the ball to him...

I don't know, Dani, he's really playing the game at a high level and it's all maths in his head like he said. Five percent risk, fifteen percent reward. And okay, two times the five percent paid off.

But then this guy dribbled past him and Max threw his hands up like 'oh no I'm so shit' and walked sideways. The Alty guys did a move and Zach slid in, won the ball, and got up and shovelled it to where Max was. Max chipped it over the defence and Sharky was away. There were three defenders against three attackers and one guy was like 'I've seen this move it doesn't end well for us' so he went racing across to take Sharky out. He would get a yellow and that'd be fine. But Sharky dabbed the ball forward. The guy slid through where the ball had just been. Sharky had to run all the way around him but so what? He's too fast. He got the ball, looked like he would stumble and fall, but Ziggy was over to help. Sharky toe-poked the ball to Ziggy, and while Sharky went tumbling, Ziggy passed to Henri. He nailed the ball to the left of the keeper.

Three-two and poor Dr. Green was the meat in a Chester fangirl sandwich.

Max didn't even celebrate. He was looking at the bench wondering what his last sub should be. Defend or go even harder? I knew he would do something mad like put Tom Westwood on and play 1-1-8. But he brought Magnus on and did a super defensive 4-5-1. Everyone put in a shift and saw out the game. Three great points! But Max wandered straight over to the woman who needed a dentist and talked to her while he waited for a photographer.

I thought after the match the VIPs might go out to a restaurant but the Greens, Brooke, and Max turned up at my house! And so did Pastor Yaw.

I hung out near Brooke and heard Max ask if it'd be good publicity for the woman who held up the sign to get a holiday to Texas. Dr. Green could fix her up and she'd get a nice warm break from the dreary January weather and maybe the Mail would send Beth out and she'd get a free holiday, too. Brooke said the club couldn't pay for a fan from another team. Max said he'd pay it himself. Brooke said that wasn't right. Max said what if Glendale Logistics pay? Brooke got a huge smile on her face and said she'd do the negotiations. The woman loves to work!

Mum cooked and made two versions of everything. One she called the Lone Star version - extra spicy for Texans and Ghanaians. The other was called the English version. That was extra unspicy and was for Max.

At one point near the beginning when the spices were exploding in almost everyone's mouths, Dr. Green made a 'mmm mmm mmm' noise and smiled. He looked at Max. "So how did my boy get on today?"

"Six out of ten," said Max. Bleeping savage, that boy!

Brooke coughed, and not because the food was too hot for her. "Max! Come on."

"What?" he said, laughing. "I can't lie. Not in front of Pastor Yaw."

"That's all right, Miss Star. He's right. I coulda done better."

Dani! Did you notice? Max said he wouldn't lie in front of our pastor! So I just had to ask about the driving lessons with the ex-commando. Because I remembered Max said Dr. Green was going to a racing circuit on Monday! If I was right, and if Max hadn't lied when he came to our training session, Dr. Green was going to learn to do car stunts from the Brig!

"So on Monday are you going - " I started.

But as soon as I said Monday, Max leapt off his chair, startling everyone. Like, cutlery crashed and people had to grab their glasses. "Kisi!" he said, more animated than he was during the match! He was not happy. "Are you going to ruin another big surprise? Are you actually serious right now?"

All eyes were on me. "I won't," I said. "I was just wondering if - "

"Yes," said Max, because he knew what I was thinking. "Now will you please?"

"Sorry," I said.

My dad watched with a puzzled air, but he was the first to start shovelling food into his mouth.

Dr. Green was watching us, sort of wary. "Got to say," he said, carefully. "I'm not a fan of surprises."

Max put his cutlery back down and glowered at me. I'd made a mess and had to undo it. "Er... you'll like this one." Dr. Green seemed uncertain. Car stunts! I wished I could go. "But I think it would be better if Max let me come, too. Then it will be even more fun." Max couldn't believe my cheek. But he sort of did a tiny nod. I was going to do car stunts with the Brig!!!

"I don't know," said Dr. Green, still all nervous.

Kisi to the rescue! I got all bright and bubbly and put my palms up. I said, "Trust me!"

It took a couple of seconds, but he did the slightest little laugh, and it was all good again. Brooke was to my left. She leaned close and whispered, "Get in a mess, find a way out, find a way to win. You play like Max after all."

She took a sip of wine but then she started to chuckle and then it got louder and longer and soon she was in hysterics. Zach chuckled along and I got the strongest impression he wasn't going to call the museum girl.

***

Okay! I've read all this back and there's no way you're going to plough through the whole mess. I'm going to print this off and stuff it inside a box of chocolates. I don't know anything about the world, I don't understand other human beings, and I don't see how it's going to get any better. But! Tomorrow I'm going to try to defend better, Monday I'm going to drive like I’m in an action movie, and on Tuesday night I'm going to take my dad to watch the football team he owns.

West Didsbury, whoo!

I hope your week is just as eventful, or less eventful, whichever you prefer!

Merry Kisimas,

Kisi Yalley