The rest of the week passed without incident, and Lola found herself totally preoccupied with the more normal aspects of her life – which were becoming all too rare a thing – as she prepared for the impending cup final. Her brother Michael had them training every night, and although it was tough, it offered Lola a much welcomed break from her efforts to research the dangers of the Hell Fire Club. Friday night came all too soon.

The large crowd had gathered to watch a competitive cup final at Ballyvalley playing fields. But nerves had seemed to play a large part, affecting Lola and the rest of the team, which comprised of her brothers, Michael, Christopher and Brendan, and their friends Aaron and Stephen. They were trailing 2-1 at half time. Lola knew that she could shoulder most of the responsibility for being behind having had several chances to put the game beyond the reach of their opponents. She knew that she was a much better player than the defender she was up against, but her confidence and self-belief was a fragile thing. It always had been.

It frustrated Lola that no matter how good she was at something, she could never really accept or believe it. It only took one person to plant the seed of doubt in her mind and her confidence evaporated. The defender who’d been sent to mark her throughout the game must have had a sixth sense about this and he exploited it to the full, insulting her throughout the game. It was nothing that she hadn’t dealt with before on the pitch, the usual insults about women playing football, as well as the tacky sexual innuendo. He had pulled her top, and groped her bottom, all to put her off her game.

Normally Lola shook this off, but tonight it was clearly having an effect on her. So when they gathered for the half-time team talk she had anticipated Michael’s verbal onslaught.

‘What the hell is going on with you, Lola? You’re sleeping up there tonight!’ spat Michael. ‘I’m gonna have to make a change, drop you into midfield and put our Christopher up front.’

Lola took the criticism, she knew he was right, but she was surprised that there was no mention of the blunder made by Aaron, their goalkeeper, beaten from the halfway line when he clearly should have saved the shot. She was capable of much better, but tonight her marker had rattled her. So she was surprised when Christopher objected to the change.

‘Look, Michael, this is the worst forty minutes our Lola has played in her life, but she’s the reason we’re in this final. I think she deserves another fifteen minutes up front before you drop her back.’

Before Michael could reply Christopher turned to Lola giving her a much needed pep talk. ‘Come on, Lo, you could run rings around that beef cake with your eyes closed. Don’t let him get to ya. Use your skill and speed; he’s no match for you! Okay, sis?’

Lola felt like crying, but since Michael was already under attack for having a girl in his team, she wasn’t about to compound the situation by acting like one. So she just nodded in agreement as the referee blew his whistle calling both teams back onto the pitch. Taking a quick glance at the sidelines she could see her parents and younger brother Liam amongst the large crowd waving vigorously in support. All the spectators were clapping and shouting now, with one major exception. At the back, stood Sebastian and Lola’s biggest critic, Drew, the mocking grin on his face was all the encouragement that she needed. As she continued to run her eyes along the rows of supporters, one face in particular caught her attention. When she turned back to look again he was gone. Lola thought it was Alex but she couldn’t be sure.

Determined that she could turn this game around Lola took a deep breath as she stood in the centre circle along with Christopher who was hovering over the football waiting for the referee to restart the game. As the whistle sounded Christopher slid the ball to Lola, creating a bit of space. She passed it to Brendan before turning to make a blistering run up the pitch towards the eighteen-yard-box.

As Lola ran, she knew instinctively that the ball would be played long, allowing her to run onto it. Letting the ball do most of the work she nimbly slipped it past two players and made her way to the last defender. Her tormentor stood with his back to goal as she advanced. Dropping her shoulder to one side, she pretended to go to the left. The defender bought the dummy going left also, so Lola slid the ball between his legs, leaving him rooted to the spot. Pacing towards the goal it was between her and the goalkeeper now.

Revitalised by the cheering crowd, Lola knew there was only going to be one winner in that contest. Lifting back her foot she blasted the ball into the top of the net. The game was level and she still had plenty to offer. Lola now had the measure of the bulky defender, yet he and his side continued to defend well, managing to fend off a great shot from Brendan, which reverberated off the post. The clock was running down and no one wanted extra time.

With just two minutes of normal time remaining Lola received the ball on the right wing, just inside her own half. She edged her way forward, with the support of Michael and Christopher in midfield. Seeing a gap open in the middle of the park, Lola offloaded the ball to Michael, who chipped it beautifully into the penalty box. Lola never once took her eyes off the ball – this was the match winner – but just as she was about to pull the trigger, the burly defender came crashing into her with his foot, crushing her shin.

Lola fell to the ground dazed. The deafening roar of the crowd was all she could hear. Suddenly there was a free for all. As Lola lay wincing in pain, her brothers ran towards the defender and Christopher pushed him to the ground.

‘It was a fair challenge, ref!’ protested her attacker. ‘If she can’t take a fair hit, she shouldn’t be bloody playing.’

Lola’s teammates surrounded the referee calling for a penalty, while she lay trying to get her breath back. Her father had now come onto the pitch, with her mum trying to restrain him.

‘Why don’t you pick on someone your own size, you big bully,’ shouted her dad, making his way towards the big defender.

‘Get off the pitch, Granda, before you take a heart attack,’ mocked the bully

This only incensed her brothers further, as the referee stood blowing his whistle in a futile attempt to regain order. Lola hobbled to her feet, and tried to walk off the injury, calling her teammates away from the referee. The referee sported a scarlet face from all the whistle blowing.

‘Are you all right, Lo?’ asked Michael as he came to her side, supporting her as she tried to walk normally. ‘That dirty bastard,’ he fumed.

‘Mike, I’m grand. Really, I’ll be okay,’ reassured Lola, but it felt as though her leg was broken. A roar from the crowd alerted them that the referee had made his decision. Lola smiled as he pointed to the penalty spot and pulled a red a card from his back pocket, which sent the stocky defender off the pitch. Brendan came striding towards her.

‘Are you fit to take this, Lo?’ he asked hopefully.

‘I don’t think so, Brendan. Chris will have to take it.’

‘Okay, are you alright? I’ll get that rat for that,’ he said through gritted teeth. Sᴇaʀch Thᴇ (F)indNƟvᴇl.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

‘I’m grand. Forget about him, we’ve got the winner, that’s all we need.’

Marching into the eighteen-yard box, Brendan set the ball onto the penalty spot, as Christopher stood waiting for the referee to blow the whistle. The crowd fell silent, and at the whistle Christopher struck the ball, aiming for the bottom left-hand corner, but unfortunately the keeper read it right, diving to his left he got a fingertip to the ball making a great save.

Lola could only watch as the scene played out in slow motion in front of her. The ball bounced out towards the oncoming defenders, but she hadn’t seen Stephen standing on the edge of the penalty box. Sliding in, he managed to get a touch on the ball before the central defender could, beating him and the goal keeper.

After the goal was scored, the referee blew the final whistle, much to the elation of the crowd and the Paige entourage. Running towards her, Lola’s brothers hoisted her up on their shoulders, as her mum and dad ran onto the pitch, followed by all her brothers’ friends. Shouts of ‘well done’ and congratulatory slaps on the back greeted Lola as she limped carefully towards the car, a large lump rising on her shin.

‘Where are you going, Lo? Are you not coming out to celebrate with us?’ asked Brendan as he walked into the changing room.

‘Of course I am, Brendan. I’ll meet you all in there, okay? I need to go home and get changed first.’

‘Right-oh, don’t be long.’

Getting into the car Lola was instinctively heading towards her parents’ house, before remembering that most of their stuff had been move to Arthur’s. The rest of her family had not fully moved in yet, but she and Aibgrene had been there for a few weeks. Her mum had felt it best for her to be there by herself for a while to get used to the idea, and was delighted when she heard that Aibgrene would be staying with her.

When she arrived at Arthur’s house, Lola could tell that Aibgrene had been out in the herb garden again. The smell from one of her concoctions filled the house as Lola came through the front door.

‘In here, Lola,’ shouted Aibgrene from the kitchen. ‘Did you win?’

Lola followed the smell into the large kitchen, where she found her friend standing at the large gas range. Aibgrene didn’t turn to greet Lola, concentrating hard on the herbs and other unidentified ingredients that she was adding into her black cauldron, now frothing and bubbling on the stove. Lola rolled her eyes in amusement thinking she’d seen it all.

‘Double double toil and trouble, fire burn and cauldron bubble,’ she mocked, putting on a witch’s voice.

If Aibgrene heard her, she refused to acknowledged the jibe and remained busily picking through her tools – as she referred to them – which lay scattered across the oak benches. Finally finding what she was looking for, she lifted the boline, which she used for gathering herbs and plants, and cut the head off a primrose, before adding it to the smoky brew. Since she had discovered Arthur’s herb garden, the young hedge witch was like a child in sweet shop. It had gotten to the stage where Lola didn’t even ask questions, she was happy to leave her to her work.

‘Yes,’ shouted Lola, so she would get her attention. ‘We did win and we’re heading out to the local club to celebrate if you wanna come?’

Aibgrene cut some more primrose and added it to the pot, bending over to inhale the fruity aroma. After washing her hands, she finally turned to Lola.

‘Lola! What on earth happened to you! Are you okay?’

Lola nonchalantly remembered her leg injury.

‘Oh that? Yeah I’m fine. I told you, we won!’

‘If this is what you look like when you win I wouldn’t like to see the other team. Sit down, I’ve got something that can sort that leg out for you,’ insisted Aibgrene.

Despite protesting that she was perfectly fine, Lola was forced down onto a chair, while Aibgrene disappeared into the pantry in pursuit of a herbal remedy. Minutes later she emerged with a clear bottle of a yellowish liquid, which resembled urine, and a green candle.

‘Really, Aibgrene, I’m fine, the swelling will go down, it’s not that bad,’ protested Lola.

‘Just sit there, it won’t take a minute,’ demanded Aibgrene. ‘The swelling will go down, but I’m afraid I won’t be able to stop the bruising.’

Aibgrene lit the candle and began to dab the oily yellow liquid onto to the large lump on Lola’s shin.

‘What is that stuff?’ winced Lola. ‘You didn’t say it would hurt!’

‘It’s better that you don’t know, now stop being such a baby and sit still.’

‘That’s encouraging,’ moaned Lola, her leg throbbing more than ever. She had almost forgotten about the pain until Aibgrene mentioned it.

‘Shush, I need to concentrate,’ said Aibgrene, rubbing her hands together for a few moments. She closed her eyes, holding her hands just above the tennis-ball sized lump, murmuring as she moved her hands in a circular motion.

‘Flesh be healthy, spirit strong, dancing feet and joyful song, health restored and revitalised, this leg be recovered before mine eyes.’

As Aibgrene recited the words over and over, Lola could feel the intensity of the heat from her hands, as the lump began to slowly shrink, until it was hardly visible at all.

‘There you are,’ said Aibgrene with a bright smile, as she examined her work. ‘You’re as good as new.’

Lola sat stunned, looking at the place on her leg which just moments ago had been swollen and bruised. ‘How did you do that?’

‘The power of magick,’ laughed Aibgrene. ‘Now, are you not supposed to be going dancing?’

Now that she was sitting down, Lola realised how tired she actually felt. She could easily have put on her pyjamas and gone straight to bed, but she didn’t want to let her teammates down.

‘I suppose I’ll go and get ready. Do you fancy coming along?’ asked Lola hopefully.

She thought it would do Aibgrene some good to get out of the house for a while and let her hair down. In truth she felt a bit guilty about going out and leaving her on her own.

‘Not really my scene, Lo, plus I have been looking at Arthur’s log books, and I think I could be on to something, but I would rather be sure first. I’ll fill you in when you get home.’

‘Are you sure you’ll be okay here on your own?’

‘Lola, I have never felt safer in my life than I do here,’ said Aibgrene reassuringly. ‘And besides, I have the mighty Cuchulain here to look after me. Isn’t that right, boy?’

‘Well if you’re sure. I won’t be that late anyway, I’m absolutely knackered.’

It didn’t take Lola long to get ready. She pulled out the very first dress she saw from her wardrobe. Slipping on the vintage pink summer dress with a peter-pan collar, pussy cat bow and short skirt flaring out from the waist, she matched it up with a pair of pink peep-toe heels that had a little red bow on them. Running the straightening irons down her long hair, she finished off her make-up, applying eye liner and mascara.

After saying goodbye, Lola left Aibgrene – under the protection of Cuchulain – immersed in Arthur’s log books in the study, and walked to the end of the snaking driveway to meet her taxi. Her timing was perfect as the cab was coming down the avenue as she closed the gates behind her.

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