Her Biggest Fan

She lied about fancying David Beckham.

He loved football more than anything so she made it up, just to give them something to laugh about.

The night of the England match she came home from her shift and found him watching the game on TV. Wearing his England top, number seven, same as Beckham.

She said nothing but he knew immediately.

She’d seen the older women in the pub. Proud of their bitterness. Their husbands either careless bullies or crushed and sad. All pinning their hopes on men like Beckham to bring a flicker of transcendence to their days.

The crowd roared. He didn’t try to stop her while she packed.

She came out of the bedroom and said, “I’m going.”

He’d thought about this moment a thousand times but it still felt unreal, like he was watching someone else.

He stood up. Then he started to sing. In a low, sweet voice he sang the only football song she knew.

“When you walk through a storm

Hold your head up high

And don't be afraid of the dark

At the end of a storm

There's a golden sky

And the sweet silver song of a lark

Walk on through the wind

Walk on through the rain

For your dreams be tossed and blown

Walk on, walk on

With hope in your heart

And you'll never walk alone

When he finished the crowd erupted. Someone nearly scored. 

She moved silently to the door.

“Goodbye.’’ she said, tenderly.

Analogue social post: boarded up corner shop, Surrey Hills.