On the Spot by Cindy Jefferies Page B

well.”
    â€œAll we need is a happy goalie,” observed Marek gloomily.

    During tea that night, Roddy was still thinking about Marcel. Maybe if they went to see Mr Clutterbuck together, it would help. Surely he’d understand how importantit was for Marcel to move rooms? Perhaps they could even squeeze another bed in the room Roddy shared with Marek, Geno and Jimmy if it came to it.
    Roddy noticed Marcel get up to leave the dining room, and decided to have a quiet word. Charlton couldn’t have an off-form goalie just because he was finding life tough. Even though they weren’t close friends, Roddy wanted to help if he possibly could. Anything was worth trying if it meant the team would play better.
    â€œSee you later,” he told Geno.
    Geno waved vaguely with his fork. It was pasta, his favourite, and he wasn’t about to hurry.
    Roddy caught up with Marcel outside, and fell into step with him.
    â€œI’m sorry life’s a pain at the moment,” he said. “You’ve got a double whammy,what with Roberts and having to share with those three.”
    Marcel shrugged. “Brett and Andy aren’t so bad when they’re not with Jack,” he said.
    â€œWell, if you want to try and move rooms again, I’ll go with you to see Mr Clutterbuck,” Roddy offered awkwardly.
    Marcel looked at him in surprise. “What good would that do?” he asked. “He’s already told me there’s nowhere to go.”
    Now it was Roddy’s turn to shrug. “We could suggest putting an extra bed in our room.”
    â€œClutterbuck’s not going to do that!” said Marcel. “There’d hardly be any floor space.”
    â€œWell, there must be
something
we can do,” said Roddy, trying to think. “We can still go and see him – explain what a pain Jack is. He’ll do something when he realises.”
    â€œNo,” said Marcel. “It doesn’t matter.”
    â€œIt
does
,” insisted Roddy. “We’re both in the same house. We play for the same team. Charltonites should stick together.”
    Marcel stopped walking. “No,” he said flatly. “It really
doesn’t
matter.”
    â€œBut…” Roddy spread his arms wide. “I want to help!”
    â€œIt’s too late,” said Marcel. He looked round to see if anyone was listening. “I don’t want this to get out. Promise you won’t say anything?”
    â€œOf course,” said Roddy. “What is it?”
    â€œI’m leaving on Friday,” said Marcel. “My parents are coming to pick me up.”
    Roddy stared. He couldn’t believe his ears. Marcel was leaving Stadium School at the end of the first week of term!
    â€œIt’s not just Jack,” said Marcel, seeing Roddy’s expression. “I’m not sure I’m cut out to be a professional footballer after all. I missmy family and, oh, lots of things. I don’t even like the food very much.”
    â€œI can’t believe it!” said Roddy.
    Marcel looked fierce. “Don’t say anything to
anyone
. If this gets out, people will go on and on about it, and Jack will make my last two nights an absolute misery. I mean it. If you tell anyone, I’ll
kill
you.”
    â€œDon’t worry,” said Roddy. “I’ll keep it to myself. But … I’m sorry you’re going.”
    â€œYeah, well, I don’t see my future spending hours in the shower cleaning mud off myself,” said Marcel. “I really enjoyed football when it was just a game, but here it’s too serious. There’s more to life, you know?” He smiled sadly. “But that’s just what
I
think. You’re seriously good. So stick at it. And maybe I’ll come and see you some time, when you’re playing an international against France, and I’m working in an office or something.”
    Roddy chuckled. “Yeah, right,” he