10 years earlier
"Both of you, you fucking cunts. Get the fuck out of my house and get the fuck out of Millwall." my uncle screamed, throwing anything he could pick up at me and my father. I dodged them easier then him and by the time we were half way down the road his head was cut. We both stopped and stared at each other for a moment before I pulled out my cigerettes and offered him one. He smiled as he took one. I flipped off a women who looked at us disapprovingly.
"Where will you go?" I asked him as he pulled out a lighter and lit his fag before handing it to me. He studied me for a while. We had had a shit year and handled I completely different, I had found friends in the people who knew the mother I had lost whereas he had shrunk and found his problems could be sold with the Millwall crowd that his brother owned.
"I was thinking of going to America." he told me; I snorted and tried to cover it up. "I'm series Bail, go to America, get away from this bullshit. Little Tommy dying, it's kind of like the last straw, you know?" he finished, taking a long drag of his fag. I nodded and placed my own ciggerette to my lips. "You should come." he knew I wouldn't. That's why he asked.
"I already made other plans." I told him, flicking ash on the floor. "Bovver said I can crash with him until I can get something on that side of the water and Terry said he will give me a job. C'mon." I moved my head and slowly we started walking and looking for somewhere to drown our sorrows.
"You be careful, the West Ham boys could cause you trouble." He eventually found a bar half way between the two waring firms.
"I bet I could cause the more." I grinned, ordering two pints. He laughed along with me, I'd been to a few games, done my duty as the only daughter of one of Millwall's top boys and I'd stood my ground and kicked ass at everyone. The barman didn't ask for ID, most of them knew there was no point with anyone in the football crowds.
"You're playing with fire, I wont be here to help you with the burns." he said. His fag was long gone and his pint was going the same way within seconds.
"I'm sure your father said the same thing to you." He nodded and I could feel him watching me as I downed all of my pint in one. I gained a few stares but i shook them off, if I was a guy no one would have even blinked an eye but I was a seventeen year old girl drinking beer and running with hooligans. I left them to think what they wanted, occasionally helping any rumours by wearing boys jeans and offensive t-shirts.
"...Send that guy a pint, say it's an appology for my brother's reaction." my father said to the barman, he nodded and pulled out a clean glass. I looked in the direction and saw the Major with a pint in his hands, he was pailer then ever with big red eyes. I knew he had been crying and blaming himself, I thought about going to hug him but I knew that my father would be leaving at the next moment he could get on a plane. He looked up when the barman handed him the drink and stared at us.
Him and my father nodded at each other. It was a nodd that said everything was going to change and somehow told me everything would be ok.