The sun was shining brightly on the pitch. The training was almost over, so the man on the rostrum briskly stood up and walked towards the players.
Guti was stretching his legs as an unknown man came closer.
"Are you Jose Maria?"
Jose furrowed his brows.
"Yeah, that's me. And you are..."
"That's not important," said the man and shoved his hands in the pockets. Guti definitely disliked this man.
"So, wassup?" asked Guti after a minute of nervous silence.
"Do you know Pete Dunham?" suddenly asked the man abruptly.
"Who?" Guti answered with a question, suspiciously.
The man repeated his question. Jose Maria thought for a moment and then shrugged.
"No, mate. I don't know him."
The man looked like he didn't really believe but let it be and left the pitch. What the hell was that all about?
Later that evening came Jose to the pub and sat down beside Dave on the stool in the bar.
"Hi, muchacho."
Dave looked up from the newspaper and grinned.
"Hello, mate. Had a bee's knees day?"
Guti looked confused, but obviously decided not to ask. He had some more important stuff on his mind.
"Look, Dave, I've had some quite strange encounter today."
Dave shifted on his seat and leaned curiously forward.
"Yeah? Spill it."
"You know, there was this man on my football practise. He's middle height, black coat, red hair. He came to me and asked whether I know Pete Dunham."
Dave gasped.
"What did yew tell 'im?"
"Of course that I don't. I don't want to get involved in Pete's business. What's between them, stays between them."
Dave looked relieved.
"Geez man, you've done da right thing. You really don't wan' ter get involved."
"Mate, you don't have to tell me twice. That guy wasn't like nice or something."
Jose Maria looked up and saw Terry the Bartender standing behind the bar.
"Hey, man. Howdy?"
"Not all bad, mate, I 'ave to say. You wan' a beer?"
"Do you have a non-alcoholic one? Oh, in that case, I'll have a cup of green tea, thank you very much."
"I'm sorry mate, but we 'ave only black tea wiv milk."
"Okay, I'll have one then. Thanks."
Jose turned back to Dave.
"Give me a Sport. Thank you."
Dave handed him a part of his newspaper and resumed reading. Tom gave him a cup of tea and Guti sipped it. Oh my, it's great!
"So, what do you usually do on Tuesday afternoon? Accept drinking beer?"
"I fly."
"Like, you're like on drugs?"
"No, mate. On airoplane." Dave rolled his eyes. Suddenly the door opened and someone yelled: "Get down!"
Someone's hand pulled Jose Maria to the ground and he heard gunshots. Someone was screaming in agony and then the door slammed closed and a horrific silence ended the scene. He heard someone talking quickly.
"Call an ambulance. 'urry up!"
Guti stood up and searched the pub. The attacker was no longer there. Instead, a body was lying on the floor 5 meters from him and Dave was trying to prevent the total dry out. Jose Maria slowly got closer and found out that it was the red-haired man he saw earlier that day. Jose Maria sensed trouble. The red head was obviously dead.
Then the door opened again and Pete walked in.
"Ay, ay!" He saw Dave sitting next to the dead guy. "What the fuck 'appened in 'ere?"
"Dunno. Already called the police. I guess got something to do wiv the football betting or something. Blimey! I don't know. Damn. My shirt is dirty."
Dave looked up at Pete to find him staring down at the dead body.
"Pete? Yew alright, mate?"
Pete shook his head and tried to speak, but he was not able to bring his voice to come out of his throat. He coughed and tried once again.
"Dave, I 'ave ter go. I'll call yew as soon as possible. Okay? Can yew 'andle dis an' police?"
"Sure, Pete. We'll talk later?" he lifted an eyebrow questioningly.
Pete nodded. "We'll talk later. I 'ave ter go. Bye."
Jose Maria sensed that something bad is happening. He glanced at Dave, now covered in blood and decided to follow Pete, who seemed to be little bit more aware of situation then he admitted. Jose Maria waved at Dave, letting him know that he's leaving and left. He saw Pete, crossing the street few yards away.
"Oi, Pete!" he screamed and followed him quickly. "What's up?"
Pete looked at him in disbelief.
"What do yew want 'ere? Go back to the Abbey, or 'ome, or whatever."
"Pete, look at me. I know something's up. I want to help you. What's goin' on?"
Pete stopped in his tracks and punched a wall next to him. His fist was bleeding. Guti stepped back in pure shock and horror.
A moment it looked like Pete is trying to calm himself down, but then he turned on his heel and started do walk away. Again.
Jose Maria couldn't help himself but shout at him: "Just remember, when you need a help, you can call my number."
He was watching hooligans' back after it disappeared in the distance. He let a heavy sigh escape his mouth and headed home. There wasn't anything other he could do, after all.
"All ma girls stand in the circle and clap yo hands, this is for you. Ups and downs, highs and lows and no matter what, you bring me through. My boyfriend doesn't answer on a telephone." Suddenly the phone rang.
"Well, isn't it ironic," said Jose Maria to himself, stopped singing, put off his dishwashing gloves and answer the phone.
"What up?"
"Oi, Josie. It's Pete. Listen, mate. You still wanna 'elp?"
