The game starts up again but I can’t concentrate. I can’t help wondering what it would be like to bump into him. Maybe in the queue by the turnstiles or on the high street in town. He’d say Look how big you’re getting. Bloody hell, I wouldn’t have recognised you. And he’d crouch down and say Mate, I’m sorry. I should never have left but look here – all the different possible reasons he hadn’t been in touch. Drafted into Special Forces and forbidden to contact family. Taken hostage by Russian spies, lying somewhere in a coma and only just recovering his memory.

And then everyone’s going mad. Granddad punching the air. Strangers hugging each other. Billy screaming like a wild animal right next to my ear. I go on tiptoe to get a better look above the bobbing heads, people jumping in front of us.

‘Straight off his head!’ Billy says grabbing my arm, ‘did you see it, Al? Play-offs here we come!’

I nod. I don’t let on that I missed the whole thing. The players are hugging each other. And in the Town End they’re pointing, rocking back and forth towards the away fans singing – Who are ya? Who are ya? Who are ya? Like a birdcall, getting louder until every voice in the world is united. As if it’s all over. But it’s not the end. We need another goal. Two more to really beat them. There’s the whole match ahead and Granddad gripping onto the rail as if his life depends on it. I do the same. I hold on so tight that my hands start to hurt. I want it for him. I say a prayer with my eyes open. Because at church they say that God notices everything. Nothing is too small. If you have faith the size of a mustard seed then nothing is impossible. I watch them losing possession again and tell myself I have faith. Bigger than a mustard seed. Big enough to fill my whole body. I believe that they can win. I don’t take my eye off the ball for a minute. Please, please, please, bless them with strength. Bless them to win. And the crowd start singing a hymn. Or close enough. Oh how I want to be in that number, when the whites go marching in.