‘You think so?’
‘You and she made a very handsome couple. She showed me the pictures in Marie Claire and Elle.’
‘We did, didn’t we? But she made her choice. And now I’m alone.’
None of the pictures I’d seen on television or in the magazines did the man’s beauty justice. He was astonishingly handsome with a long nose, a full sensuous mouth and a shaven head. It was a strong, almost Egyptian head in that it reminded me of one of those huge granite carvings of the Pharaoh Rameses II that can be seen in Egypt’s Valley of the Kings. He was tall and wiry, with legs as long as a crane fly’s and when you saw him you realised that his was a perfect footballer’s physique — not small, like a Messi, or as tall as a Crouch — but more felicitously proportioned, and just to see him was to picture him running at speed with the ball, or curling an improbable shot into the back of the net. Equally, it was plain to see why magazines and Italian designers were falling over themselves to sign him up. Paolo Gentile had not exaggerated. Except for the fact that his body was unmarked by tattoos it was easy to imagine this young man as the next David Beckham and getting rich beyond the dreams of anyone’s avarice. But if I had an early criticism it was that he seemed a little sulky; like a spoiled child.
‘Are you alone here now?’ I asked.
‘Yes, there’s just me and the housekeeper — Charlotte — who comes in every day and cooks and cleans for me.’
‘On the strength of the lunch we just ate I’m not sure there’s a great deal of difference between cooking and cleaning on this island.’
‘Where did you eat?’
‘The Yacht Club in Pointe-à-Pitre,’ said Grace. ‘If you go, don’t have the Creole Plate.’
‘We’re staying along the beach,’ I said, ‘at the Auberge de la Vieille Tour. But neither of us is very optimistic that it’s going to be any better.’
Jérôme pulled a face. ‘It’s true. There’s nowhere good in Pointe-à-Pitre.’
‘This is quite a little hideaway you have here, my young friend. Very private. You could live in a place like this for months and no one would find you.’
Jérôme nodded. ‘I certainly believed so.’
‘I must say you don’t seem to be very surprised that we did.’
He smiled. ‘I heard that you were looking for me. I’ve been expecting you all day.’
‘Was it the guy in Le Gosier who told you we were here in Guadeloupe?’ I asked. ‘The one with half the gift shop from PSG and who looks like a length of ebony? Or Queen Creole from the hairdresser’s salon in Pointe-à-Pitre?’
‘Both. I’m happy to say I still have lots of good friends in Guadeloupe.’
‘Oh, I’m sure. And what about relations?’
‘Sadly, I’ve no family on the island now. Not any more.’
‘What about on Antigua?’ I asked. ‘Any family there?’
‘No. Why do you ask?’
‘No reason. Well, now that I’m here, I think it’s best we put our cards on the table.’
‘Such as?’
‘Such as the company you’ve been keeping. If I’m going to be travelling with you, I’d like to know if there’s anything important I should know about. You see, I wouldn’t like to aid someone who’s wanted by the police. Especially when I’m in a foreign country. I’m cautious like that. So why don’t you tell me everything?’
‘Does it really matter?’ said Jérôme.
‘You’re joking, aren’t you?’
‘Look, Scott, I’ll gladly return to Barcelona whenever you like. Pay whatever fine they impose. You’ve accomplished what you set out to accomplish, haven’t you? So why don’t you just leave it be? Give them a call and tell them to send a jet to the airport at Pointe-à-Pitre and we can be back there in no time.’
‘All right. I’ll put it another way. I’m afraid there are some things I need to know, and know now. For example, and most importantly: why didn’t you get on that plane from Antigua to London and report for training at Joan Gamper in Barcelona, like you were supposed to do?’
He smiled, a little self-consciously. ‘Maybe I didn’t feel like it.’
‘You don’t want to talk? That’s fine by me. I can understand your reluctance to tell me about this. After all, it’s embarrassing to tell someone how you fucked up when you’ve only just met them. But what you’ve just told me so far won’t be good enough for the people at PSG or Barca who sent me here to find you. Not by a long chalk. If either of the two clubs get so much as a whiff of ill-discipline or someone with a bad attitude then they can fuck you up good, my son. You’re an investment and no one likes to see their investment just disappear without so much as an explanation. If Barca decided they didn’t want you after all — which yet they might — PSG could put you up for transfer and sell you to the highest bidder..‘
I sipped my elderflower water and waited for him to say something but all he did was stare at the game on the screen as if he wished he could just carry on playing.
‘Everything will be fine just as soon as I score my first goal for the Blaugrana,’ said Jérôme. ‘You’ll see. They all will.’
‘Sure it will. Just like it was after you’d scored your first goal at PSG. No, wait, you never scored a goal for PSG, did you? Correct me if I’m wrong but I thought that was why the French agreed to loan you to the Catalans. In the hope that you might do better in Barcelona than you’d done in Paris.’
Jérôme sighed loudly and, leaning back in his chair, shook his head.
‘I think you’re going to have to talk to me, son. Tell me, Grace, you’re a lawyer, would an employer be within their rights to dismiss an employee who didn’t turn up to work for the best part of a month, without an explanation? Not only that, but to sue him for breach of contract?’
‘He’s right, Jérôme,’ Grace told him. ‘You’re going to have to tell him something.’
‘It’s complicated,’ he said finally.
‘It always is.’
‘No, man, really fucking complicated.’
‘Look me up on the internet sometime. You’re looking at someone for whom complicated has been a pretty consistent career choice.’
‘Really?’
‘I don’t know a better way to explain how I’ve been to prison for something I didn’t do.’
‘You did?’
‘I served eighteen months for rape before I was acquitted. How’s that for complicated?’
‘I didn’t know. Christ. That’s really fucked up, man.’
‘Look, I can help you, kid. The fact is I’m not just here to fetch you home, I’m here to save you from yourself, if you need it. Which I happen to think you do. You see, I gave my word to Paolo Gentile that I’d do this. He seems to think your arse is worth saving, although frankly I remain to be convinced by that.’
‘Paolo. How is that old crook?’
‘Coin-operated. Same as ever. He has big plans for you. He’s convinced that he can make you the richest young man in football since Cristiano Ronaldo. Provided you’re willing to toe the corporate line, of course.’ I paused. ‘Is that one of the reasons why you funked it?’
‘A little, perhaps. But look, man, this is all very personal. It’s not easy to tell a complete stranger why I didn’t think I could go back.’
‘You know, I did quite a bit of digging around in your life before I flew over here. I’ve sat around in your lovely apartment with Mandel, and with Alice. She’s very loyal. I liked her. I’ve had dinner with Bella Macchina. I like her, too. I’ve been through your closets and your drawers. I’ve even been through your bathroom cabinet. I think I can safely say I know a lot more about you than you probably think I do. At the moment it’s just me who knows this shit. Not PSG and not Barcelona. If they did they’d run a mile, so you can thank me later.’