Okay, maybe they have an inkling.
“Oh my god, youarefucking Owen Bosley!” Dan says. He’s had one too many frozen margaritas and his already floor-level inhibitions have been lowered.
My heart stops beating. Brain stops working. I don’t respond in time and I’ve missed any window of opportunity I had to deny it.
“Holy fuck!” Eggo is on his feet. Apparently the news is too much to process sitting down.
Pi tugs on Eggo’s sleeve until he sits again.
“Shiiiiiit, man,” Dan says, drawing out the word. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to fucking out you.”
“It’s fine, you didn’t out me. There’s nothing going on between me and Owen . . .” My words slowly fade into obscurity. Like candyfloss in the rain, they just fizzle out.
“Does anyone else know?” he asks. Guys from the other end of the table crane their necks around their neighbours to look over at us.
“No,” I say, because what’s the point in hiding it any more? “Nobody else besides you five, Eksteen, and Owen’s entire village knows. Really appreciate it if no one told the press.”
“Not saying anything,” Pi says, and the other guys add similar statements.
“This is such a huge deal,” Dan says, and though he’s just assured me he won’t tell a soul, I’d bet a month’s salary he’s already planning on how he’ll break the news to his wife. “So, you seeing him tonight?”
I indicate towards my sparse dinner and my glass of mineral water.
Harry barks out a laugh. And from that moment, he’s less hostile with me.
The buzz from the win dies the second I get back to Fernbank Cottage and google the game. I know I shouldn’t—never read the comments and all—but I have to know.
There’s a compulsion in me, and Ineedto know what Owen said during his interview. I need to know what the new “spin” on the public’s perception of me is.
I instantly wish I’d never bothered. All the sports news sites and Instagram pages have run with one of two photos and a variation of the same baity headline.
“What is Mathias Jones’s problem with Owen Bosley?”
“Mathias Jones argues with Owen Bosley at latest Centurions game.”
“What is Mathias Jones saying to Owen Bosley that has him all worked up?”
“Mathias Jones rude to Owen Bosley after rugby legend defended him during a live game.”
There are also a couple of“Is Johan Eksteen losing his touch?”You know, for balance.
I don’t read all the articles, I only skim over the ones from BBC Sport and Sky Sports, but they all say the same and yet nothing at all. Offer no real information. The picture they have accompanying the article is one of me at the stands leaning over to speak with Owen. His hand is on my neck, his face pinched into a frown. His bottom lip is caught between his teeth, and I guess to an outsider it reads like he’s saying the word “fuck,” like he’s telling meto “fuck off,” but I recognise it immediately as his promise to rearrange my internal organs after he finishes his pub shift tonight.
The other photo they’re running with is one of me sitting on the bench. My hands are balled into fists and my face is contorted with a scream. I don’t remember what I’m yelling, or who I’m yelling at, or at which part of the match. I can’t even tell if I’m cheering or jeering, but again, it looks like I’m spitting mad. And just over my shoulder in the left of the picture is Owen. He’s looking at me, his face passive and serene. In contrast, he looks angelic.
I find the catch-up stream of the game, fast forward to half-time, and watch Owen’s interview four times in succession.
“I’m standing here with the great Owen Bosley, Bath Centurions’ hooker from two thousand to twenty seventeen. I’m gonna go straight in and ask you the question we’re all desperate to know. What are your thoughts on the signing of Mathias Jones?”the out-of-shot interviewer asks.
Owen’s eyes roll subtly towards the sky, and he looks off to the left of the camera before refocusing a few moments later. I realise how absolutely useless Owen is at masking his emotions.
“I’m a huge Mathias Jones fan. What can I say? I love the guy. I know people want there to be this . . . ongoing feud between us, but it’s impossible not to recognise the man’s talents. His ball skills are incomparable. Honestly, you can’t watch a match and not be a fan of the lad.”
“So, you’re a fan?”the interviewer says, laughing.
“Mate, did you watch that first half? That wasn’t a Cents game, it was a Mathias Jones one-oh-one on how to play rugby.”
“Do you think Eksteen will come to regret his decision to sign Jones? It’s probably one of, if notthemost controversial appointment in Cents history.”
