over. ‘Listen, Ella, I’ve not been entirely straight with you . . .’ he began, but before he could finish his sentence, the bungalow door was pushed open.
‘You’re Danny Riding, aren’t you?’ one of the boys announced loudly. He was a typical Brit abroad – blistering red skin, a pot belly under a Kingston United shirt, and shorts down to his calves.
Ella had looked at the boys, and back at Danny, but she chose not to say anything.
‘I knew it was you!’ the other boy exclaimed, and he nudged his friend. ‘How about that? Danny Riding in the same resort as us. Brilliant goal against Spurs last season, mate,’ he continued, oblivious to the confusion on Ella’s face.
‘Yeah, you really showed them who’s boss,’ the other boy said.
Danny smiled. ‘Thanks lads,’ he said, and Ella glanced at him. His whole demeanour had changed – he’d puffed up his chest and looked cocky. Arrogant. ‘Shame we didn’t do the same to Chelsea,’ he continued. ‘We’d have topped the table if we had.’
‘You’ll do it next season,’ one of the boys said, and he couldn’t hide his delight at meeting Danny Riding, super-striker for Kingston United. ‘Don’t s’pose we could get you to sign my shirt, could we mate?’
Danny grinned. ‘It would be a pleasure.’
‘So you’re a famous football player?’ Ella asked in astonishment as soon as the boys had left. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
Danny had looked uncomfortable. ‘It’s not easy being me, you know,’ he said eventually. ‘People don’t want to be friends with me; they want to be associated with me, to be seen with me. And they don’t care about who I am, not really. They can’t see past the fact that I’m a footballer, that I’m famous.’
‘But when I asked you what you did, you said you were a PE teacher!’ Ella exclaimed.
Danny shot her a wry grin. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, but he couldn’t help laughing. ‘I wasn’t sure if you knew who I was, and I wanted to check . . .’
Ella had crossed her arms over her chest. ‘But you lied to me!’
‘For a good reason,’ Danny had said calmly. ‘If I told you I played for Kingston United you’d have been so dazzled or turned off that you wouldn’t have opened up to me, and we wouldn’t have had so much fun these last couple of days.’
‘That’s rubbish,’ Ella protested hotly, but the more she thought about it, the more she realised Danny was right.
‘I was going to tell you when I thought we were proper friends,’ Danny had said, and without saying a word, Ella walked over to him, and gave him a massive hug.
‘We are proper friends,’ Ella confirmed. ‘And even though you’re a famous footballer – who I have heard of, by the way – I won’t hold it against you. You can’t help which job you fall into, after all.’
‘That girl’s totally checking you out,’ Ella murmured into Danny’s ear as they danced under the moonlight on the beach. Fires had been lit, music was being played loud, and Ella didn’t think she’d ever had so much fun. The setting was definitely part of it – who wouldn’t have fun at an impromptu beach party with travellers from all over the world? – but it was Danny who was making the evening so special. Danny who made her laugh, who made her feel good about herself. Danny, who made her feel like she could not only be completely herself, but the very best she could be.
Danny shrugged. ‘I’m not interested,’ he said, and Ella rolled her eyes.
‘You haven’t even looked at her.’
Danny gave the girl a cursory glance and turned back to Ella. ‘Nope, still not interested,’ he said, but before Ella could say anything, the girl wandered over. She was stunning. She had long chestnut hair, her knockout figure was clad in tiny denim shorts and a sequinned bikini top, and she had the face of a model.
‘I’m Becca,’ the girl announced, as she began to dance next to Danny. He smiled at her politely, but didn’t say
‘You’re Danny Riding, aren’t you?’ one of the boys announced loudly. He was a typical Brit abroad – blistering red skin, a pot belly under a Kingston United shirt, and shorts down to his calves.
Ella had looked at the boys, and back at Danny, but she chose not to say anything.
‘I knew it was you!’ the other boy exclaimed, and he nudged his friend. ‘How about that? Danny Riding in the same resort as us. Brilliant goal against Spurs last season, mate,’ he continued, oblivious to the confusion on Ella’s face.
‘Yeah, you really showed them who’s boss,’ the other boy said.
Danny smiled. ‘Thanks lads,’ he said, and Ella glanced at him. His whole demeanour had changed – he’d puffed up his chest and looked cocky. Arrogant. ‘Shame we didn’t do the same to Chelsea,’ he continued. ‘We’d have topped the table if we had.’
‘You’ll do it next season,’ one of the boys said, and he couldn’t hide his delight at meeting Danny Riding, super-striker for Kingston United. ‘Don’t s’pose we could get you to sign my shirt, could we mate?’
Danny grinned. ‘It would be a pleasure.’
‘So you’re a famous football player?’ Ella asked in astonishment as soon as the boys had left. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
Danny had looked uncomfortable. ‘It’s not easy being me, you know,’ he said eventually. ‘People don’t want to be friends with me; they want to be associated with me, to be seen with me. And they don’t care about who I am, not really. They can’t see past the fact that I’m a footballer, that I’m famous.’
‘But when I asked you what you did, you said you were a PE teacher!’ Ella exclaimed.
Danny shot her a wry grin. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, but he couldn’t help laughing. ‘I wasn’t sure if you knew who I was, and I wanted to check . . .’
Ella had crossed her arms over her chest. ‘But you lied to me!’
‘For a good reason,’ Danny had said calmly. ‘If I told you I played for Kingston United you’d have been so dazzled or turned off that you wouldn’t have opened up to me, and we wouldn’t have had so much fun these last couple of days.’
‘That’s rubbish,’ Ella protested hotly, but the more she thought about it, the more she realised Danny was right.
‘I was going to tell you when I thought we were proper friends,’ Danny had said, and without saying a word, Ella walked over to him, and gave him a massive hug.
‘We are proper friends,’ Ella confirmed. ‘And even though you’re a famous footballer – who I have heard of, by the way – I won’t hold it against you. You can’t help which job you fall into, after all.’
‘That girl’s totally checking you out,’ Ella murmured into Danny’s ear as they danced under the moonlight on the beach. Fires had been lit, music was being played loud, and Ella didn’t think she’d ever had so much fun. The setting was definitely part of it – who wouldn’t have fun at an impromptu beach party with travellers from all over the world? – but it was Danny who was making the evening so special. Danny who made her laugh, who made her feel good about herself. Danny, who made her feel like she could not only be completely herself, but the very best she could be.
Danny shrugged. ‘I’m not interested,’ he said, and Ella rolled her eyes.
‘You haven’t even looked at her.’
Danny gave the girl a cursory glance and turned back to Ella. ‘Nope, still not interested,’ he said, but before Ella could say anything, the girl wandered over. She was stunning. She had long chestnut hair, her knockout figure was clad in tiny denim shorts and a sequinned bikini top, and she had the face of a model.
‘I’m Becca,’ the girl announced, as she began to dance next to Danny. He smiled at her politely, but didn’t say
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