Long Shot by Cindy Jefferies Page B

don’t think much of him,” muttered Roddy.
    â€œHe was in our team for the trial,” said Jimmy. “I wouldn’t want to play against him. He’s good, but he tackled really aggressively.”
    â€œMaybe he’ll settle down after a day or two,” said Geno. “He’s probably just stressed about not knowing anyone.”
    â€œMaybe,” said Roddy doubtfully. “Is he in Charlton with us?”
    Geno shook his head. “I don’t think so,” he said. “I can’t remember seeing his name on our house list.”
    Mr Clutterbuck was speaking again, but this time to the whole room. “Don’t forget, tea is in the main house at five o’clock,” he said.
    â€œWhen’s our first training session?” asked someone near to Roddy.
    â€œTomorrow morning,” said Mr Clutterbuck. “And every morning after that, except Sundays.” He smiled as a ragged cheer went up. “There should be calendars on your beds,” he went on. “They have holiday dates and match fixtures inside, so don’t lose them. And I’ve got timetables here. You lot can come and get them now, if you like.”
    The boys hurried forward to collect the timetables, and Jack made a point of pushingin front of Jimmy, who winced.
    â€œThat idiot stamped on my foot!” Jimmy told his roommates as soon as Jack was out of the way.
    â€œHe did it deliberately,” said Roddy. “I saw him.”
    â€œDon’t worry, I’m not scared of Jack,” laughed Jimmy, rubbing his bruised foot.
    â€œIf he annoys you again, I’ll help you sort him out,” said Roddy. “We can’t have him injuring one of our defenders!”
    â€œThanks, mate,” said Jimmy appreciatively.
    â€œBut now I really ought to go and put my stuff away,” said Roddy. “Are you staying here?”
    â€œNah,” said Jimmy. “I ought to unpack as well, I suppose. What are you going to do, Geno?”
    â€œI’ll come with you,” said Geno. “Then we can all go to tea together.”
    The boys trooped back to their room. It had been fairly tidy when they left, but now it looked as if a tornado had swept through it.
    In the middle of the mess stood an extremely tall boy with a very serious expression on his face. As soon as he noticed the new arrivals, he dropped the shirt he’d just taken out of a large suitcase.
    â€œHello,” he said in a deep voice. “I am Marek Dvorski, the best young striker in Poland. Am I sharing a room with you?”
    â€œEr … yes,” said Roddy after a moment. He took in the boy’s height, and impressive untidiness. “I suppose you are.”

2. First Day
    Marek looked rather forbidding at first, but Roddy soon realised that although he was serious, he was also very friendly.
    By the time Marek had told them all about his delayed flight from Poland, his family and his football, they were all getting along just fine. And he was as impressed as Roddy to be sharing a room with Luca Perotti’s son.
    â€œI want to play for my country like Perotti did for his,” he announced.
    Everyone shared that footballing ambition and for a moment they were all quiet as they studied the poster of Italia ’90 that Geno had put up over his bed. Then Roddy took charge. “I’m starving,” he said. “Let’s go and get tea.”
    â€œGood idea!” said Geno.
    Keira was already at a table with a few girls when Roddy and his friends arrived. They went to the servery and loaded their trays with food.
    â€œHi,” said Keira, when they went across to her table. “Come and join us. There’s plenty of room. Did you know that Simon didn’t get in, or Polly, the girl I was most friendly with?” she went on, as Roddy and the others sat down. “It’s a shame, isn’t it?”
    Roddy nodded. “But
we
got in,” he said with a broad