Читать книгу Striker - Michelle Betham - Страница 6

‘Have you done something to your hair?’ Kevin asked, cocking his head as he stood at the side of Amber’s desk.

‘I’ve dyed it,’ she replied, without looking away from her computer screen.

‘I thought it looked different. It suits you.’

This time Amber looked at her producer, frowning slightly. ‘Are you alright?’

‘Of course I’m alright. Why the hell wouldn’t I be alright?’

‘Since when have you cared about the state of anyone’s hair? Come to think of it, I’ve had God knows how many changes of hair colour, and styles, since I’ve worked here and you’ve never noticed any of them. What’s the matter with you?’

Kevin shrugged, throwing a press pass down on her desk. ‘It’s pretty hard to miss that hair colour to be honest.’

Amber ran a hand through her newly-coloured, dark red hair, smiling at her producer. For some reason she’d felt like a change – of what, she hadn’t been entirely sure, but dyeing her hair had seemed like the easiest option. And she liked it. A lot. So much, in fact, that she was considering keeping it that colour. ‘You said it suits me,’ she smiled, chewing on the end of her pen, a habit she’d never been able to break in all of her years working on News North East.

‘It does. It matches your frigging temper. You’re off-site again today, kiddo.’

Amber groaned, throwing her head back, her pen still stuck in her mouth. ‘I’ve got so much stuff to catch up on, Kevin. I could have done with a day at my desk.’

‘Tough. You’re off to Red Star’s training ground. We’re covering Ryan Fisher’s first day with his new club. Oh, and let’s not forget the double whammy Red Star have just thrown up by signing Jim Allen as their new manager. That’s being made official today. You could maybe try grabbing a word with him, too, while you’re at it. If he’s there, that is.’

Amber sat up straight, taking the pen out of her mouth. ‘That’s definite, then?’

‘What’s definite?’ Kevin asked, looking through a pile of newspapers he was holding.

‘Jim Allen, coming back to Red Star as manager.’ She’d heard the rumours concerning ex-Newcastle Red Star player Jim Allen joining the club as their new manager, but she hadn’t thought anything would come of it. He’d been in charge of a huge and extremely successful London club for some time now, and as far as she’d been aware they were trying to hold onto him with some eye-watering new contract negotiations, so determined were they to keep him where he was. So she hadn’t thought coming back to the North East was an option for him, despite Red Star desperately wanting a successful, big name manager to help them with their league-winning efforts this season. And who better than a man who’d been one of their most popular players back in the day?

Jim Allen was also a good friend of her dad’s. He’d joined Newcastle Red Star just as her father was ending his professional playing days, but Freddie Sullivan had taken Jim under his wing, become his mentor almost. They’d stayed close ever since. So she’d have thought Freddie would’ve said something to her about this if he’d known what was going on. She wasn’t sure how often they talked these days, but it really would have been nice, if he did know something, to have let her know. For a number of reasons. None of which he would actually have been aware of.

Kevin looked at her through slightly narrowed eyes. ‘Remind me, what job do you do again? Jesus Christ, Amber, come on. Isn’t Jim Allen a family friend or something? Surely you of all people should be keeping up with all of this. He signed the contract this morning. They’re holding a press conference at Tynebridge later today, so it’s possible he won’t be at the training ground when you’re there, but if he is… Anyway, I’m sending Phil to the press conference, if you don’t mind. I’d rather you concentrated on Ryan Fisher, for now.’

Amber stuck the end of her pen back in her mouth, looking briefly out of the window. ‘That’s fine with me.’ Another meeting with the charming Mr. Fisher. She couldn’t wait. ‘Anything in particular we’re looking for here?’

‘Not really,’ Kevin said, flicking through a copy of one the local newspapers. ‘I suspect the place’ll be swarming with press and TV, so we’ll just be one of many trying to get a glimpse of the returning hero in action.’

‘He’s hardly a hero,’ Amber muttered, throwing her phone and press pass into her bag. She suddenly had a headache forming right behind her eyes.

Kevin arched an eyebrow. ‘Well, whatever he is – and I’ve heard him called plenty – keep an eye on him, and just try and get a word with him after training, okay? See how his first session’s gone, find out how he’s feeling about making his debut for the club on Saturday, what he thinks of Jim Allen as a manager; you know the kind of thing. You don’t need me to tell you.’

‘Gonna be difficult to get a one-to-one if everyone else is going to be there. And didn’t we cover most of that in yesterday’s interview?’

‘You know how this works, Amber; you’ve done it enough times. And you shouldn’t have any trouble getting his attention, anyway. Not with that hair colour.’

Amber contemplated wearing a hat, because she wasn’t all that keen on attracting the attention of Ryan Fisher. She hadn’t liked him on sight yesterday, and she didn’t think she was going to feel any different today. But this was her job, so she was just going to have to suck it up and get on with it.

‘Okay,’ she sighed, throwing Kevin a look that told him she wasn’t happy but she’d do it anyway. ‘I’m on my way.’

‘You’re such a trooper, Amber,’ Kevin said with his usual dose of dry wit. ‘I’ve already sent Alec over to the ground to do camera and sound, so, when you’re ready you might like to get over there and join him.’ He made a point of looking at his watch before walking back towards his office. ‘Any time in the next five minutes would be ideal,’ he shouted over his shoulder. ‘Come and…’

‘… see you when I get back, I know.’ She sighed again, shutting down her computer.

‘Whoa! What’s happened to your hair?’

‘Ronnie!’ Amber squealed, jumping out of her chair and throwing herself into her best friend’s arms.

She’d known Ronnie White for almost ten years now. An ex-professional, North-East-born footballer – and a pretty famous one at that – he was now a popular TV football pundit and commentator after his career had been ended due to injury five years ago, at the age of thirty. He now split his time between his home in Northumberland, and London, but Amber never saw enough of him. He was the only footballer who’d caused her to break her ‘no relationships of any kind with any footballers’ rule, and she loved him. Like a brother. Despite that very brief and very physical relationship during his time as a top-flight player. But that was all over now. She was just glad their friendship had survived the post-sex period. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘I thought I’d come and surprise you,’ Ronnie grinned, swinging her round before putting her back down, holding her out at arm’s length. ‘I’m back up north to cover Ryan Fisher’s first game with Newcastle Red Star at the weekend.’

‘I didn’t know that match was being televised,’ Amber said, ridiculously excited to see him. It’d been a while, and she hadn’t realised how much she’d missed him, until now.

‘You know how they change these things. With the arrival of both Jim Allen and Fisher at Red Star, suddenly this game looks like the more exciting option. And it gives me the perfect excuse to come home for a few days. You did know about Jim Allen signing as Red Star’s new manager, didn’t you?’

‘Yeah. Of course I knew,’ Amber said, pushing a hand through her newly-dyed hair before giving Ronnie another big hug.

‘Put him down, Amber, and get your arse out of here and over to Red Star’s training ground,’ Kevin said, reappearing beside her desk again. ‘Hello, Ronnie.’

‘Kevin… Look, I’m at a bit of a loose end right now, so why don’t I go with Amber this morning? I’m dying to get a look at Fisher in action.’

‘I don’t need your help, Ronnie,’ Amber said, leaning back against her desk and folding her arms, that headache showing no signs of dissipating.

‘Hey, Miss Defensive. That’s not the reason I want to go with you, alright?’

‘Yeah, but having him around might help you get closer to Fisher,’ Kevin pointed out.

‘What? Because he’s famous, too?’ Amber asked.

‘Err, yeah,’ Kevin replied, looking at Amber as though she’d just made a really stupid comment. ‘He might feel more inclined to come over and speak to somebody he used to share a dressing room with.’

‘To be fair, Kevin,’ Ronnie started, ‘… me and Ryan Fisher only played for the same club for about three months. And we were never what you’d call the best of friends. He was just a kid… Anyway, I don’t want to go with Amber to help her get an interview. She’s more than capable of doing that all by herself.’

‘Thank you,’ Amber smiled, sticking her tongue out at Kevin, who responded by giving her a rather rude finger gesture.

‘I want to go with her because she’s my best mate, and I haven’t seen her for far too long. I just want to spend some time with her.’

‘Aaah, isn’t he lovely?’ Amber said, still smiling, squeezing Ronnie’s arm and poking her tongue out at Kevin again.

‘Do that too many times and your face’ll stay that way,’ Kevin smirked. ‘And then you won’t stand a chance of luring any players over for an interview, never mind the really famous ones.’

‘I’m sure I could do you for some kind of sexual harassment with that comment, Mr. Russell,’ Amber said in a mock-shocked tone.

‘Just get your arse out of here, now. Go on. And take him with you,’ Kevin smiled, indicating Ronnie. ‘Fancy a drink later, Ron? Usual place? Around eight-thirty?’

‘Sure. Make mine a pint. See you there.’

Amber glanced over at her best friend. He looked tanned and handsome with his messed-up, dark brown hair and hazel eyes; he also looked happier than she’d seen him in a long while. That long-overdue holiday to Majorca must have done him the world of good, and he’d needed it. The recent divorce from his wife, Karen – who’d left him for a big-name goalkeeper after seven years of marriage – had knocked him for six and Amber still wished she could have been there for him more than she had been.

‘Everything okay with you?’ she asked, linking her arm through his as they made their way to the underground car park.

‘If you mean am I getting over Karen, then yes. Slowly. I’ve stopped blaming myself, anyway.’

Amber squeezed his arm, stopping briefly to plant a quick kiss on his cheek. ‘It never was your fault, Ronnie.’

He shrugged, sliding his arm round her waist and giving it a quick squeeze. ‘Maybe I just wasn’t there for her enough.’

‘That’s not an excuse to go shagging about though, is it? She knew what she was getting into when she married a footballer. I mean, that’s half the reason I steer well clear of relationships with you lot.’

They stepped into the lift and Ronnie leaned back against the wall, his hands in his pockets, a slight smile on his face. ‘That’s the reason, huh? You don’t like to be alone too much, is that it?’

Amber smiled back. ‘On the contrary. I love being alone.’

‘Bollocks! Come on, Amber. You’ve been on your own for far too long now. Isn’t it about time you found yourself a nice young man to share your life with?’

She looked at him out the corner of her eye as the lift finally reached the underground car park. ‘Who are you? My father? And, for your information, I don’t want a “nice young man” to share my life with.’

‘Whatever you say,’ Ronnie sighed, following her out into the strip-lit car park. ‘I just hope it wasn’t me who put you off relationships with footballers.’

Amber said nothing for a few seconds, continuing to walk with her head down before she fixed a smile on her face and turned to look at him. ‘You flatter yourself, Mr. White.’

They finally reached Amber’s car, Ronnie resting his arms on the roof of her pale blue Fiat 500 as he smiled at her. ‘So, what do you think of Ryan Fisher?’

‘Not much,’ Amber replied, climbing into the driver’s side, relieved he’d changed the subject.

‘He didn’t win you over with the famous Fisher charm, then?’ Ronnie slid into the passenger seat, immediately fiddling with the radio to try and find the sports station he occasionally did some work for.

‘No. He didn’t.’ Amber backed out of the parking space and drove slowly out into the late-August sunshine, sliding her sunglasses down over her eyes the second they hit daylight. ‘Has he always been such a cocky bastard?’

‘He’s always been extremely confident, if that’s what you mean.’

‘No. That’s not what I mean. There’s a difference between cocky and confident, and he was most definitely cocky. Almost as if he just expected me to fall at his over-insured feet. And the second it was evident that I wasn’t going to do that, his mood changed.’

‘Well, one thing I do know about Ryan Fisher is that he’s never had a problem getting the women. So, what happened? Did you knock him back?’ Ronnie grinned.

Amber briefly looked at him, smiling slightly. ‘No, I didn’t knock him back because he never asked me anything.’

‘Ryan Fisher doesn’t need to ask, Amber. He just gets. Whatever he wants, usually. That’s the way this game plays out these days, with players at his level.’

‘Did you always get what you wanted when you were playing?’

‘I already had what I wanted, didn’t I? I had Karen. I didn’t need to look anywhere else. I didn’t want to.’

Ronnie turned to look out of the window and Amber threw her head back for a second as they pulled up at traffic lights. ‘Ronnie, I’m sorry,’ she sighed.

‘It’s okay, really,’ he smiled. ‘I guess I’m still just a bit over-sensitive about everything, that’s all. Which is why I’m glad to be back here in the North East for a while. I get to come home, hang out with you, and forget about all that crap.’

Amber returned his smile, leaning over to quickly kiss his cheek again before the lights turned to green and she sped off out of the city centre towards Red Star’s training ground on the outskirts of town. ‘Having a good time sounds like a plan to me. It’s been ages since I’ve had a decent night out.’

‘That’s because you work too hard and never let yourself go,’ Ronnie said. ‘It’s not a crime to enjoy yourself, y’know.’

‘Yeah, thanks, I know that, Ronnie. But there aren’t all that many people around to have a good time with.’

‘Rubbish! You just hate letting your guard down. You hate letting people see beneath that ball-breaking exterior.’

Amber couldn’t help laughing. ‘Ball-breaking exterior?’

‘Yes,’ Ronnie laughed. ‘You’ve got a bit of a reputation, kiddo.’

‘Have I now,’ Amber remarked. ‘Well, we might have to do something about that, then.’

‘Is that a promise?’ Ronnie grinned as they pulled into the visitor’s car park at Red Star’s training ground.

‘Tell you what,’ Amber smiled, getting out of the car and slamming the door shut. ‘Tell Kevin you’ve got other plans for tonight and I’ll show you that I can let myself go just as much as the next person. Alright?’

‘You’re on,’ Ronnie said. ‘So, Amber Sullivan, party girl, is coming out to play?’

Amber just smiled, sliding her sunglasses up onto her head as she turned away and started walking towards the entrance to the training ground. ‘I never said that. Come on. I’ve got work to do before I can even start thinking about having any kind of fun.’

But, all of a sudden, fun seemed like a really great idea. Especially if she was sharing that fun with Ronnie. Yeah. Maybe a night out was something she needed. After all, what harm could it do?

Ryan was having a good day. So far nothing was telling him that this move back to his native North East was one he was going to regret, but even if it was, he couldn’t go back. Anyway, wasn’t playing for the club you’d supported all your life a really big deal for a professional footballer? That hadn’t been the first thing on Ryan’s mind when he’d asked Max to find him a northern club, but he was secretly over-the-moon that Newcastle Red Star had wanted him so much they’d agreed to all the terms Max had put forward. His wages had increased significantly, they’d provided him with a fabulous, if not slightly-out-of-the-way, house to live in, and everyone was treating him like a returning hero. Everyone except that reporter from News North East. The one with the hard-faced attitude and the sexy-as-hell body. What a conundrum that posed. Despite the fact he’d been seriously unimpressed at her reaction towards him – being cold-shouldered wasn’t something he was used to – he hadn’t been able to get her out of his head. More’s the pity. He’d never had to chase after a woman in his life and he wasn’t about to start now. It was pointless even trying with her, anyway. Pointless going after something that was only going to kick you in the balls, metaphorically speaking, of course. Why bother with all that shit when he had Ellen ready and waiting for him to just click his fingers whenever he wanted her? Not to mention all the potential conquests that would doubtless be lining up to meet the newest addition to North-East football when he hit the town later. Some of his team-mates were taking him into the city centre for a bit of a ‘welcome to the club’ night out, and even though it was a Wednesday, and probably not the kind of night that was going to throw up the biggest choice in women, Ryan was absolutely certain there wouldn’t be a shortage. It was almost as if these girls could sniff out a footballer at fifty paces, and before you knew it you were surrounded by a barrage of them all trying to ‘get to know you’. Ryan couldn’t fucking wait!

‘Okay you lot, back on the pitch, come on!’

Ryan pulled himself up off the ground, glugging back one last mouthful of water. He had no intention of ignoring Colin Bailey. The man was a legendary football coach who, along with Jim Allen, the charismatic, American-born ex-player-turned-manager, had joined the club in the hope that they could bring Newcastle Red Star the success that had eluded them for far too long. Bailey had a reputation as a stern but fair coach, and it was a reputation that had gained him the respect of any player who’d trained under him. But he could also put the fear of God into you if he thought you were slacking in any way. Ryan, however, intended to start as he meant to go on – getting on the good side of his new coach.

‘Over here, Fisher!’ Colin yelled in his tough Glaswegian accent. An accent that only solidified his no-nonsense attitude. ‘A quick kick-about to end the session, okay? But let’s not treat this like a piss around in the park, alright? I’m watching the lot of you. Especially you, Fisher. We need to know exactly what to do with you on Saturday.’

Ryan ran back out onto the pitch, ready to give not just the coach but also the gathering crowd of press and TV that had been allowed access into today’s training session something to really look at. Ryan Fisher was one of the greatest strikers out there right now, and he was in the process of showing them just what it was this club had paid millions for.

Fifteen minutes later and all he had to do was talk to a couple of journalists, give a handful of quick interviews to camera, and he was done for the day. But Ryan didn’t intend to waste the afternoon playing golf or spending money on some ridiculously overpriced shirt to wear tonight; he had enough of those already. No, he intended to give Ellen a ring, see if she could get away for an hour or so. He was going to spend the afternoon getting some practice in for his night on the town. Ellen was the warm-up act, but Ryan was definitely on the lookout for a different main performance.

‘You ready, then?’ Max asked, sauntering over to Ryan, his mobile phone attached firmly to his ear.

Ryan rubbed a towel along the back of his neck, looking over towards the throng of assorted journalists and reporters who were across the other side of the pitch talking to some of his teammates. ‘Yeah. I’m ready.’

‘Great. Hang on a second; I’ll just take this call. Don’t wander off, okay?’

Ryan sometimes wondered if Max actually knew how old he was, because, at times, he still treat him like the nineteen-year-old kid he’d been when Max had first started representing him. Or maybe he just knew him too well.

Looking over once again at the crowd of reporters, Ryan squinted slightly as a familiar figure stepped back from the crowd. Was that Ronnie White? What was he doing here? Hang on; was he with that reporter from yesterday? What was her name again…? Amber. That was it! Amber Sullivan. Daughter of Freddie Sullivan, apparently. So Max had told him. Pity she hadn’t inherited any of her father’s charm. Shit! She looked even sexier with that new hair colour. Red suited her. Ryan guessed it matched her temperament, which probably meant she was shit-hot in the bedroom – Jesus; he had to quit thinking like that. It wasn’t easy, though. This was one tough girl with attitude that Ryan was suddenly pretty desperate to get closer to. Even if it meant enduring a few more kicks in the teeth. Maybe that’s what she got off on.

‘What’re you smirking at?’ Max asked, sliding his mobile phone back into his jacket pocket.

‘Nothing.’

Max followed Ryan’s gaze. ‘Right,’ he sighed. ‘Best leave well alone there, kiddo. She’ll eat you for breakfast.’

‘Yeah,’ Ryan grinned. ‘That’s what I’m hoping for.’

‘For fuck’s sake…’ Max sighed again, rolling his eyes. ‘Come on. Focus for at least five minutes, then you’re out of here. Although, Christ knows I’d feel more comfortable if you were being chaperoned twenty-four hours a day.’

‘If they looked like that…’ Ryan smirked, indicating Amber as she laughed at something Ronnie White said to her, ‘… they can chaperone me all they like.’

‘I thought it was hate at first sight with you two,’ Max said, guiding Ryan towards another local sports reporter who wanted a quick word.

‘Hey, I never said I hated her. I hated being ignored by her. That’s different.’

‘You hate being ignored, full stop. Now, turn on the charm and do what you’re here to do. The sooner we get this out of the way, the sooner we can all go home.’

Amber smiled and waved at a fellow sports reporter she knew from a local radio station as he made his way out of the training ground. He’d had his five minutes with Ryan Fisher, whereas Amber had yet to approach him. It just wasn’t something she was particularly keen to do, even though it was the reason she was there. She’d spoken to a couple of the other players to see how they felt about their new team-mate, but so far she hadn’t set foot near the man himself.

‘I think I know why you don’t want to go near him,’ Ronnie said, leaning nonchalantly against a wall, his hands shoved deep in the pockets of his more-than-likely stupidly expensive designer jeans. He was a footballer, after all.

‘Do enlighten me with your theory, then,’ Amber sighed, watching from across the other side of the pitch as Ryan Fisher charmed the pants off another female reporter. It was quite a sight to see. He almost had it down to an art form.

‘You fancy the arse off him.’

Amber swung round and fixed Ronnie with a stare that would kill, given half a chance. ‘Sorry? Did you just accuse me of fancying the arse off Ryan Fisher?’

Ronnie shrugged. ‘It’s obvious.’

‘Oh, is it? Care to fill me in on how you came to that conclusion?’

‘How many footballers have you been around, Amber?’

She said nothing for a second, aware that she still had to talk to Ryan at some point before he disappeared off to do whatever it was footballers did for the rest of their days once training was finished, otherwise Kevin would doubtless have something to say.

‘Loads,’ Amber replied, checking her watch before looking over at Alec.

‘Okay. So, how many of them have you deliberately avoided talking to? For any reason.’

She looked at Ronnie again, narrowing her eyes. ‘None. And what the hell are you talking about?’

‘You fancy him. Come on, Amber. You said yourself you avoid relationships with footballers, but you’ve never actually avoided talking to any of them, especially not in a professional capacity. But look at you! Even you know you’re actually looking for an excuse not to go over to him. Am I right? Or am I right?’

Amber gave Ronnie one last glare through still-narrowed eyes, turned on her heels, and strode purposefully over to where Ryan Fisher was busy talking to his agent.

‘Have you got a couple of minutes to say a few words to News North East about your first training session with Red Star?’ Amber asked, her stomach – for some completely unexplainable reason – turning somersaults. Mind you, that was probably due to the fact she hadn’t had any breakfast that morning. Yeah, that had to be it. She couldn’t think of any other reason.

Ryan turned to look at her, a smile – or was it more of a leer? – spreading slowly across his undoubtedly handsome face. ‘For you, sweetheart, I’ve got all the time in the world.’

Amber groaned inwardly. What the hell was Ronnie thinking? Her? Fancy Ryan Fisher? He needed to give her a little more credit as to the kind of men she went for, because this man here, with a wage packet that was probably as over-inflated as his ego, was so far away from the kind of men she wanted to spend time with.

‘Two minutes, Ryan,’ Max said before leaving them to it.

Yeah, Ryan thought. Two very long minutes, if he had anything to do with it. ‘Loving the new hair colour,’ he smirked, taking another swig from his water bottle, his eyes not leaving Amber’s. ‘Makes you look even sexier than yesterday.’

Was this guy for real? ‘Anyway,’ Amber began, shaking all other thoughts out of her head, ‘…the training session…’ She looked around for Alec, whom she’d assumed was right behind her. He had been a second ago. Where the hell had he gone now? She wanted this interview done and dusted as soon as possible, but she couldn’t do a thing without her cameraman. ‘I’m sorry. My camera guy seems to have disappeared…’

‘I’m in no rush,’ Ryan said, leaning back against the wall, draining the last of the water from his bottle. ‘So, Amber… can I call you Amber?’

She just looked at him before turning round to see if she could spot Alec anywhere.

‘How do you know Ronnie White?’ Ryan asked, running a hand through his dark hair, fixing her with another look as she turned back round to face him. ‘I’m assuming you do know him, because the two of you look pretty friendly to me.’

Amber toyed with the idea of telling him to piss off, but then thought better of it. ‘We’re friends. I met him when he was still a player, about ten years ago, not that that’s any of your business. My dad introduced us at a charity dinner we were all attending at the Civic Centre.’

‘What’s the relationship there, then? You seeing each other? I’ve heard he’s recently divorced…’

‘What the hell has any of that got to do with you?’ Amber interrupted, quite unable to believe that someone could ask such personal questions of somebody they didn’t even know. ‘I’ve told you, we’re friends.’

‘I’m just interested,’ Ryan shrugged, still refusing to divert his eyes away from hers.

Amber shuffled from foot-to-foot, becoming slightly agitated at Alec’s absence now. She just wanted to get this over and done with and get back to the safety of her desk back in the News North East offices.

‘Good friends, are you?’ Ryan asked, arching an eyebrow, which did nothing to lessen the agitation Amber was feeling. She was beginning to dislike him more and more with each passing second. Ronnie couldn’t have been more way off the mark – how on earth did he even think that she could possibly go for someone like Ryan Fisher? If he was the only man left on earth, she’d rather stay single for the rest of her life. ‘Best friends with benefits, huh?’ Ryan winked.

Amber swore she could actually feel her blood begin to boil, and she was about to furnish him with some sort of reply to let him know just how inappropriate that comment had been when Alec finally showed up.

‘Sorry, Amber. Got talking to Jason from North News Tonight. Lost track of time. Are we ready to go here?’

Amber kept her eyes very much on Ryan as she spoke, suddenly feeling the need for that night out with Ronnie more than ever now. ‘Oh, we’re ready to go, Alec. We couldn’t be more ready.’

And, as far as Ryan was concerned, she couldn’t have spoken a truer word.