He had tried to make a habit out of looking at his fans’ faces, even if just for a split second;

perhaps as a reminder of their individuality beyond the chants and waving mass of black and red shirts

and flags, of their need to be noticed for what they are. He remembers the men in the park because he

had looked at them. Not one of them a monster. Just plain English working-class faces, reminding him

of the streets of his youth. The faces of the dads and uncles of his friends, of neighbours. The faces he

smiled at and who had smiled at him when he signed autographs on shirts and pieces of paper. The

photos tell him nothing new. But when Daniël talks about this with Matthew and Gael, relief and

bloody revenge in their voices, he closes his eyes and pretends not to hear.

Life, such as it is, moves along. He’s able to eat a light meal without assistance. He no longer

falls asleep several times a day, exhausted after being simply awake for more than two hours, although

he still needs a long nap in the afternoon. He can hold a cup, though not if it’s full with a hot drink.

He’s able to move his legs somewhat while sitting in bed, but he has no idea if they’ll ever take his

weight again. He believes he remembers pretty much all the words he knew before, but he isn’t

certain, because they come more slowly than he was accustomed to and sometimes, in the middle of a

sentence, he wonders if he might have lost a few of them after all.

He’s taken out of the room, fully conscious this time, for a scan. He’s had those before, no big

deal. No need for knocking him out. He holds out for an eternity before he starts to shake and whimper

his distress. And he doesn’t even know what he’s afraid of.

“It will be kinder to give you a mild sedative, so you can sleep through it all. Three minutes

was exceptionally brave of you but we need you to lie still for almost an hour,” the doctor says.

Later, Doctor Nisha tells him his bones are healed, though several of them have suffered from

the compromise needed to keep him alive and perfectly set bones were not the main priority. But

bones are not the most complex element of a human body.

“The internal organs work as well as we might expect or even hope. That’s a huge plus

considering the facts. We had feared for your kidneys but you are one lucky man in this aspect, Mr

Gavan. And not just in this.”

Steve nods. “Daniël told me.”

“Your body has used up much of its muscles in the effort to heal itself. A special diet and

therapy will help you to build up strength. Just like your brain will have to work hard to compensate

for the damage caused by … well, we all know what happened and the weeks you were in coma. Your

body had to fight on so many fronts at the same time; one could say it had to make some tough

choices. It will take months, perhaps even years, before anyone will be able to draw the final

conclusions. But there’s no reason to assume you won’t get better than you are now.

“If you’ll ever walk again? I don’t know. Nobody knows. With injuries of this extent, there is

no way of predicting the future in such detail. But we’re going to try our best to give you at least a

chance to stand on your own two feet again.”

When the doctor has left again, Daniël sits closely to Steve and takes his lover’s hands in his

own. His smile is radiant; his kisses are warm and eager. “You’re doing so well. It takes a brave man

to point out their photos and give information, so the judge has more than enough reasons to put them

away for years and years. It was on the news, too. Mrs Goldman said a few words to the press. Told

them she and Mr Goldman are of one mind with the manager about how he deals with what’s

happening with the club right now. That she’s very proud that KTFC is at ninth position at the

moment. But knowing the gaffer, it’s not going to end there. You don’t remember her visiting us, do

you?”

“I might, without knowing.”

“It’s okay. You know her dad used to play for the Kinbridge Town youth team before the

family immigrated to the US, back in the early fifties? That’s why she loves football and this club in

particular.”

Steve smiles. “I read it in … can’t remember, when they bought the club. They brought Degaré

with them. Seems they were friends from way back. I was one of their first new acquisitions.”

“Stupid of me … anyway … fans have been sending so many emails and get well cards and

little presents and requests for information that the club had to hire two part-time secretaries to deal

with it. There were thousands of reactions from players and fans from other clubs as well. And it’s not

just England, or even Europe. But of course I’ve also thanked everyone on my blog, and more than

once, too. They will be so happy to read about your progress. By the way, has Matthew told you they

already made a banner for us? Right from the first match after the press conference. And it’s there

every single home game.”

Daniël sighs. “I’m just talking and talking. I wish I could make it all go away. All the pain and

the destruction and the fear. Just make it go away. But it’s not like on TV, now is it? All problems

solved in less than an hour.”

He’s so full of life, his Daniël. Not even months of being surrounded by hospital walls, unable

to fully stretch his wings, has changed that. A bit paler perhaps, his freckles less defined, definitely

thinner, but still with that special light shining in his eyes.

“And the boys are going to be so happy to hear about the scan. They already know about the

arrests. If they had any say in this, there wouldn’t be a trial. I think it’s the first time I’ve heard

Gabrysz say anything really nasty. But they’ll tell you themselves, with their next visit.”

“I won’t come back.” Steve didn’t expect the words leaving his mouth, nor the matter-of-fact

tone of his voice.

“I know.” Daniël doesn’t try to soften his reaction, doesn’t show him the many wonderful

things he’ll still be able to do once the healing process is as complete as possible. Steve already knows

football is of limited importance during the best of times; no need for Daniël to tell him that. He

won’t miss it, not even on days when missing it will hurt like hell.

“When they were kicking the life out of me in that park, there was this precise moment I knew

I would never play football again. I knew it for a fact. I didn’t care. Funny, perhaps less than half an

hour before I had been thinking about how I could find another club, if Kinbridge Town was going to

put me up for sale, and still be with you. And all of a sudden, it didn’t matter any more. It only matters

that the gaffer was there for you when I couldn’t be, that Matthew and Gael and all the others never

skip a day to make sure you’re never totally alone, that so many fans tell you they still want you in

their club. But during that one moment in Queen Elizabeth park, I said goodbye to what I believed was

more than just a job to me.”

“Do you also remember when you said goodbye to me?”

“At the very end, when everything else was gone.” Steve brings Daniël’s hands close to his

face and kisses the long, slender fingers. “Thank you for the press conference.”

“If I had done it sooner, you wouldn’t have walked in that park at that moment.”

“Those men who left me for dead could have walked away instead of attacking me. They could

have made hate chants about me for the next match and started an online campaign with other fans to

pressure the owners and the manager to get rid of me. It’s not something that gets talked about a lot,