Read Online The Mince Pie Mix-Up by Jennifer Joyce - Free Book Online Page A

practically thumped Judy on the shoulder. She winced and gave it a rub but froze (ha!) when she saw what her teammate was wearing. What all the lads were wearing. Instead of the shorts and T-shirts Calvin had insisted she wear, the lads were all dressed in tracksuit bottoms and hoodies. Calvin had tricked her! How on earth had she fallen for
that
when she washed his muddy kit every week?
    Right, that was it. The gloves were off (funny, Judy could have done with a pair of gloves at that moment in time). There would be no more Nice Judy. There would be no more helpful hints or lists or friendly reminders. Calvin was on his own!
    ‘Come on, Calvin.’ The teammate was jogging backwards towards the others at the centre of the pitch, beckoning for Judy to follow.
    ‘I can’t believe I’m doing this,’ Judy muttered as, head down, she made her way towards the others as though being marched to the gallows. There were ten of them altogether, separated into two teams of five. Calvin had claimed it would be a friendly five-a-side kick about but there was nothing friendly about the ball as it came hurtling towards her at a frightening speed. Judy’s first instinct was to duck. Which she did, to the amusement of her teammates.
    She was glad somebody was finding this game fun, because she certainly wasn’t. While the others ran towards the ball, Judy ran away from it. She yelped every time it came flying towards her and when she
did
manage to bravely kick it, the ball rolled – rather sluggishly – in the wrong direction.
    Judy had always hated football.
    Now she hated her husband too.
    ‘On your head, son,’ somebody yelled. Judy looked up just in time for the ball to hit her square on the nose. It bounced off her face but Judy didn’t see where it went as her eyes were clamped shut against the pain as she covered her battered nose with her hands. Pulling them away, she looked down at her palms with hazy vision, expecting to see blood pooling, but there was nothing there. Still, her whole face stung and she wasn’t sure she could continue to pretend to play football while stars danced around her head, cartoon style.
    ‘Calvin!’
    Judy squinted at the blurry mass heading towards her and then down at her feet where the ball was rolling towards her. She pulled back her foot and, imagining the ball was Calvin’s head, gave it an almighty kick.
    She completely missed the ball, which was hardly surprising considering her face was caved in and everything. Not that any of the lads cared about her injury. The game continued around her and not one person asked if she was okay. They were barbarians, the lot of them.
    Judy wanted to fall to her knees and weep with gratitude when the ordeal was finally over.
    ‘Is it really over?’ she asked as they made their way off the pitch. She was caked in mud and delirious with fear and possible hypothermia. Her nose felt like it had swelled to quadruple its normal size and her eyes were still watering. She thought she’d heard them say the match had finished, but she wanted to be absolutely certain before she got her hopes up.
    ‘It was over for you before it even began, mate.’ One of her teammates – Curtis, Judy had gathered during the match – clapped her on the back, the unexpected force almost sending her to the ground. Not that it would have made much difference – she couldn’t get any muddier. ‘What’s up with you today? Heavy night last night?’
    ‘Something like that.’ Judy was trotting alongside Curtis in order to keep up with his long strides. Judy had inherited Calvin’s legs but she wasn’t all that sure how to use them to full advantage yet.
    ‘A pint or two will sort you out, lad.’
    ‘I should be getting back to Judy and the kids,’ Judy said, but her words were only met with laughter from Curtis.
    ‘Funny. For that, I’ll get the first round in.’
    Judy trooped after Curtis and a couple of the other lads – Richie and Pierce – following them into