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‘Yes,’ Bryan replies. ‘I want you to do something with him and Eddy, start playing on their rivalry ahead of the semis.’

‘Right, okay,’ I say – I feel like that’s all I’m saying. ‘So…’

‘So, take them somewhere, have them go head-to-head at something, not sport, something else, and interview them, get them bickering – get us sound bites we can use, photos of them literally facing off,’ Bryan says.

I try to imagine Jamie and Eddy in the same room – with only me between them. Imagine trying to get them to pose for photos, to give useful answers to questions, when really they probably just want to tackle one another.

‘I can do that,’ I say – well, it is my job. ‘Is Eddy okay with this?’

Bryan waves a dismissive hand.

‘He will be. I’m sure you can get him on board,’ he replies. ‘You can soften the blow.’

Shit, right, yes, because I’m his girlfriend. Except I’m not, so he’s probably going to tell me to piss off.

‘He’ll listen to you,’ Bryan adds.

Will he? We’ve spoken properly about four times, and it’s been in largely weird and unusual circumstances.

I don’t actually know whether he’ll listen to me at all, but I’ll give it a go.

‘Jamie is on board?’ I check.

‘Raring to go,’ Sol replies.

Thank God I don’t have to convince him too. I know I don’t know him all that well either, but this seems more like his cup of tea.

‘Okay, then I’ll talk to Eddy,’ I say.

Sol smiles.

‘I know he doesn’t love the media side, but I think once he sees the bigger picture, he’ll understand.’

I think so too. At least I think I think that…

This will be good, right? The rivalry is already there, they’re competitors, and they will be playing for the same side soon. It will sell tickets. Drive engagement. Fill comment sections with people arguing over every little detail.

I just need to get Eddy to see that too.

I have a feeling tomorrow is going to be entertaining.

Just maybe not for Eddy.

12

Getting Eddy to meet me at the stadium this evening was easy – I told him it was work, and he said he’d be here. But knowing what I need him to sign up for, ugh, that’s going to be the hard part, because how am I going to tell him that he’s spending tomorrow with me, Jamie Royle and a camera?

It doesn’t need to be difficult, right? It is work and Eddy is a professional. And while not being his actual girlfriend means I have no real sway, it also means he won’t feel any sort of way about me in particular asking him to do something he doesn’t want to do. I just need to get it over with.

I’m sure he’s dealt with far worse things than being asked to film social media content with someone he may or may not hate – I read he had to have a particularly nasty shoulder surgery at one point; it can’t be worse than that, can it?

The weather has turned colder – autumn is really here now – but the office is shut up for the day, and inviting him to my room feels incredibly weird.

I tighten my jacket, to keep out the breeze.

Eddy is already waiting near the edge of the car park, standing beside a low brick wall with his hands buried in the pockets of a dark hoodie.

‘Hi,’ he says as I approach.