Twenty-Five
Dante
I WAS MORE AWARE THAN ever of what I had to lose, so was she…
As Sexton drove us to Wembley to enjoy all that corporate tickets afforded us, Ciara sat nervously alongside me on the backseat. It was simple really, wasn’t it? It had taken us just a few hours to realise we could try and catch a moment with the player of the moment at one of the games he played. Now it was the summer season, it was an international friendly ahead of the Euros. It was a Wednesday evening, a warm June night, and I wondered whether the team would play well enough to put Cornish in a good enough mood to speak to us later.
I looked sideways at Ciara, still hardly able to believe she was mine. When she’d suggested the hair change I didn’t think she would actually go through with it but she had.
