You don’t see or indeed fully comprehend what you are doing to your wife’s meticulous work as you admire the grooves she has carved in the wing of the turnstone, carefully constructed by tiny soft taps to the wood. You don’t taste the salty saliva that is slowly accumulating at the base of your mouth, mimicking the sensation you get when you are about to purge your system of excessive nourishment. You are alone. You don’t see what this one chance, perhaps this only chance will do for your wife. You are blind to her potential, all you can see is Jerome’s face, his widower’s face looking at your wife pretending to be simply hooking up with an old acquaintance, settling himself in nicely into your neighbourhood. No, all you see is your fear of losing your wife’s love. This is not envy, this is jealousy.

41. The Football Trials

It’s an important day for the lads. The football trials. Our lot have to perform well if any of them want to move up to the As next year. Otherwise they’ll be staying put with myself and Maurice on the Bs. It’s a serious business.

At the pitch I place the enormous emerald green kit bag on the hard grass, unzip it and begin to dish out the balls to the lads. They go at them in a frenzy like they’ve been imprisoned for months and are desperate for release.

It’s a scorcher of a day and Mikey and Joey push out into the thick of it. They’re red in the face. I shout at them to stay focused, that they’re doing great. I say it but in my heart I know they’re not good enough to be moved up, and as the first phase of tests begins my thoughts are confirmed. I split the lads either side of the goal for one-on-ones, an exercise that can very quickly draw out a player’s deficiency. They have to run to the far cone, around it and then into the penalty area where I play a through ball. All the time I’m worrying about Mikey and Joey that they won’t let me down.