A plane crash was my worst nightmare. I hadn’t ever told any of the other blokes on the team about my fears, but every time we traveled I feared the worst. Every time I closed my eyes I thought the plane would break apart mid-air, would crash to the ground in a spectacle of fuselage and tin. I shuddered just thinking about it. My heart was racing and my blood had gone cold; it felt like my whole body was broken out in a cold, uncomfortably sweat.
I had to get to the airport, and I dashed to the door and grabbed my trainers, stuffing my feet inside and grabbing a jumper. My keys were still in my pocket. It was surreal to think that the last time I’d been inside my car, I’d been driving home, planning on how to pop the question to Kate.
Now I had no idea if she was even alive.
Don’t think like that, I urged myself. Don’t think like that and everything is going to be okay. She’s going to be okay. Everything will be okay, just stay calm, breathe, breathe Jay, breathe.
But deep down, I knew I was kidding myself. Mid-air collisions were a serious incident, and they carried a very low survival rate.
I hadn’t felt this much adrenaline or fear in my whole life. Now I was suddenly worried about everything. If I lost Kate, I didn’t want to continue with anything. I couldn’t play football or continue carrying on like I had. All I wanted was her, and I wanted her for the rest of my life. I wanted her to be safe, I wanted her in my arms. I wanted her in my bed, every night, ready for a kiss goodnight. I wanted her at every single one of my matches, and I wanted to watch every episode of her show.
“Please be okay,” I muttered under my breath. “Please, please be okay, Kate.”
Leaping into my car, I slammed my foot down on the gas and drove as fast as I could to Manchester Airport. It was just outside of the city, but the streets were mobbed with traffic and emergency vehicles headed in the same direction. I knew it was selfish, but I wanted to get there before anyone else.
I thought about calling Lizzy, but I realized there wasn’t time, not while I was driving. My chest kept aching like I’d just missed at scoring a massive goal, and I had to remember to breathe. Breathe, Jay, just keep driving and breathe, I thought. Easy does it. This will be okay. Just get there and she’ll still be alive.
I found myself praying, something I hadn’t done since I was a little boy in Belfast. I’d been raised a Catholic, and even though my parents hadn’t been particularly observant, Catholicism had its own kind of lure. I remembered learning how to go to communion and confession, the ominous dark church with heavy wooden accents, and the prominent smell of incense. I also remembered the way that girls would float past me in their white dresses and veils, ready for first communion .
It brought back a powerful memory.
“Jay, hurry up,” Mum was saying. “You don’t want to be late. You’ve studied so hard and I hate to think that you’d miss your own confirmation!”
“Hurry up, son,” Dad added. “Don’t stress your mother.”
Eagerly, I fastened my dark red tie around my neck and stepped into the patent leather shoes Mum had bought just for the occasion. We didn’t have a lot of money at home, but I wanted to make a special impression. My childhood hadn’t been spectacular, and now I was worried that I was going to embarrass myself in front of everyone. After all, church hadn’t come easy to me. I’d been an easily distracted child, a child who spent way too much time playing outside. All of my friends were quiet and obedient, except for Connor. I liked Connor, but Mum called him a troublemaker.
“Mum, can I go to the pictures after church?” I looked up at my mother’s beautiful face. Her features were youthful and radiant—I got my blue eyes and brown hair from her. Dad was a redhead, with warm brown eyes and laugh lines around his mouth. He was big and strong and I wanted to grow up to be just like him.
“If you’re a good boy,” Mum promised. She slipped some coins into my hand. “And don’t spend all of this at once, you hear?” She squatted down to my height and looked into my eyes. “You promise me, Jay.”
I nodded. “I promise,” I replied.
I ran out the door, skipping and playing in the street. As a kid, I had boundless amounts of energy. Mum and Dad were always irritated because I could never sit still.
“That’s right,” Dad said mildly as my parents strode past me. “Get all of your crazies out before we can get to the church. You’ll have to behave yourself inside, son.”
I laughed and whirled around in circles, kicking imaginary footballs at my feet. Ever since I could run, I dreamed of being a football player for some famous Irish team. I wanted to make money and bring all of it home to Mum and Dad. They didn’t have a lot in life, and I wanted to take care of them like they’d taken care of me.