A return to Taunton Town via places that would curl your toes

[Jibby123]

Friday, 9th September 2011. Wordsworth Drive, home of Taunton Town FC

As night fell over the town of Taunton the lengthening shadows on the pitch mirrored rather well those gathering in Ryan's heart and mind as he let himself sag back in his chair with an exaggerated sigh in the poky, badly lit office.

Ryan glanced at the light switch across the gloomy room wondering whether the club could afford, or more to the point be able to pay the upcoming electricity bill that would allow him to push out another hour going through his notes on Taunton's FA Cup exit and the individual players he had so much faith in; looking for that solution that Ryan knew was out there.

Despite all that had happened this week, the beating which came out of nowhere from Kev that even days later left it difficult to chew gum, the abduction by who knew what from a past that should be left in the past and night out in a flooded ditch with a perforated ear drum and powder burns to the face, the only thing Ryan worried about was this football team. Naturally. Ryan being Ryan and all.

Part of me had to admire his ostrich in the sand pit thinking, but I was getting ever more concerned that he was ignoring the reality of what he had yet again managed to get himself involved in here. If I had been fully aware of the complete reality at this stage I would have kidnapped himself, for his and selfishly my own safety and well-being.

“Where the hell are you Sasha?” Ryan asked the four walls of his office with a quick tap of the switch that would give him some light and a few more hours of working time. As the pile of invoices on his desk were testament to, with Kev and Mrs Kev apparently having done a disappearing act after the attack on the previous Sunday Ryan had no way or idea of how to keep the wolves of finance away from the door by even paying the milkman let alone the pittance they paid the players.

BRRRNNNGGGGG.....BRRRNNNGGGGG.

Shaken out of his sullen reverie with a crash his in an instant thudding heart sent the blood to his shaking hand that had the receiver at Ryan's ear before he even had time to consider whether it was a good idea to give his whereabouts to whoever might be wanting it right now.

“Hello?” Ryan mustered with a voice suddenly croaked through nervous energy or lack of use this evening and maybe even a little of both.

“Good evening, is this Ryan Hull?”, a male voice, to the point, calm, official sounding.

“Not Kev....or Sasha” Ryan thought to himself quickly as he allowed every muscle within him to slightly relax. “Yes, speaking, what can I do for you?”.

“My name is Detective Sergeant Rigby, Avon and Somerset police. We'd like a little of your time for a chat about a case we're currently investigating”.

A sigh. “Look mate, I've given my statement, I don't care if the guy is charged or not, that's up to you, I don't want anything more to do with it for christs sake. I've told you all this”. The old Army comrade code still rang strong, sure Kev had given him a going over but as far as Ryan was concerned it was fair game. He had slept with Kev's missus after all.

A pause on the line which for a reason Ryan couldn't quite put his finger made Ryan involuntarily tense again.

“What 'guy' would this be Ryan?”

“The kicking I got last weekend. From a bloke called Kev, don't you people talk to each other?”

Less a pause this time, but a pause nonetheless that further tightened Ryan's stomach muscles.

“Why don't we discuss this when you come in for a chat”.

It wasn't meant as a question or a request and was quickly followed by the further realisation in Ryan that this copper had no idea about what or who Ryan was talking about in mentioning Kev.

Ryan looked down at the number on the caller display, wondering why he hadn't done so before picking the damn phone up.

”01275 xxxxxxx – S**t – Not local or Taunton police - Portishead area code – Avon and Somerset HQ – Special Branch – MI6 – F**k – S**t – No – No!” Ryan screamed in silence only to himself.

As the sudden discovery rolled in waves through Ryan's senses the urge to slam the handset down was so strong but this DS Rigby was carrying on,

“I will be straight with you Ryan, this has nothing to do with any assault on you. We've found your boss and have many unanswered questions that will need answering. We're asking if you can be at Taunton police station at 10am tomorrow morning and ask for a DS Rigby”.

“Sasha” the thought of her name ripped through Ryan preventing him from throwing the phone across the room with pure fear that these goons as spooks were back in his life. “Is-is-is she ok? Alive?” Ryan managed to ask.

“Barely I'm afraid. We're investigating an assault leaving life changing injuries at best, a murder at worst. I can tell you she's in a critical position. Look we need that chat Ryan. Can I trust you will cooperate Ryan?”.

“Of c-course” Ryan managed to croak.

“Good chap. See you in the morning Ryan” Click. The line went dead.

The phone remained at Ryan's ear for a moment in the numbed shock that froze him from head to toe. What choice did he have not to speak to these people. There is no choice or hiding place if these people want that chat. Football match or not tomorrow.

Ryan dropped the phone with a clatter on to the desk, buried his head in his hands and let the sobs take over “I'm so sorry Sasha, so so sorry. It's because of me. I am sorry. If you're there god, please, please get her through this”, followed by an involuntary loud, reverberating howl from the pit of Ryan's guts of “Noooooooooo!!”.

The door to the office clicked and opened hesitatingly with a groan on creaky hinges. Ryan could not care less any more. Nothing anyone could do to him could make anything worse than it already now was.

He was wrong.

Ryan looked up and through blurred with tears eyes he saw the small shape stood in the doorway.

“Oh sure, we do not meet for so long and this is how you say your greeting to old friend”.

Ryan did a double take. “Eva? What the f**k! Awww s**t”.

[Jibby123]

The small, empty and quiet of traffic raised road from Taunton to Glastonbury runs across an area of marshy, flat land, prone to flooding over the centuries. Some might say one explanation for the county of Somerset's name is that, in prehistory, because of winter flooding people restricted their use of the area to the summer, leading to a derivation from Sumorsaete, meaning land of the summer people.

According to legend Joseph of Arimathea had once bought a drop of Jesus’ blood in a cup, the Holy Grail, to the marshes and it was also claimed to be the location of Avalon, King Arthur’s castle.

Known as the Somerset Levels, clearly visible from the transport arteries of the M5 motorway and the main train line out of the south west of England, it’s not the prettiest part of Somerset, and not exactly an area that one might wish to see as the last thing they ever clap eye’s on.

Maybe those Saxons of over a 1000 years ago were on to something, and in light of recent news on the Levels where people are really struggling now, nature seems to have gone full circle where the region is flooded every winter over the past years and the worst yet this year. In respect to my neighbours on the Levels (where some villages have become islands only accessible by boats for over a month now) and a local council and national government that could not care less or is too money broke to care I am sorry if I bought the weather gods from millenniums previously back out to play!

-------------------------

All that aside, I am a little stuck on this story. I want to write more but finding it difficult for inspiration right now. I know where it needs to go, but getting there is harder work than I'd like. Bear with me if anyone was following.....!

[Jibby123]

Ryan had met this girl for the first time in the Drina Valley in Eastern Bosnia in about 1994 or 1995. She must have been about 7, 8 or 9 years old then, he would have been 23. Or if somebody told me he'd been 22 I'd not have argued. Who cares, who knows. Ryan wouldn't have.

She was a child without any apparent guardian angel beyond the intense look in her eyes of fun amongst horror that swamping around her was screwing with everybody's perception of 'safe' whilst her own dancing intelligent eyes told Ryan (and everyone else) she was going to be just fine.

Whether an oasis in the desert or island in an endless sea of just pure misery and hopelessness the reason Ryan had remembered her best was the eyes. He just knew she was going to come out the other side as soon as he'd seen those eyes in the 9 year old girl. By the time they'd met in that UN camp for the first time Ryan was already anything but just fine.

And Ryan had had a ticket out of there at the end of his 6 month tour. Eva had not.

One made it, the other didn't. Human spirit can overcome anything, but it's a fine line of being the one to be crushed by lesser horrific memories and the other who can skip hopscotch around the fast fire balls coming down range at them both.

A lottery if you like. Not unlike the fine rizla cigarette paper difference of success or not in football management.

This girl had escaped the horror of the Bosnian war, Ryan hadn't.

This girl had escaped the madness of double agenda's in Veendam when they'd next met, Ryan hadn't.

This girl had pushed Ryan's head in to a drainage ditch not just a few days before and discharged a weapon millimetres from his ear in some mock execution for reasons Ryan just didn't want to know.

Ryan might have loved her from the minute he met her. Or loved her spirit. He'd certainly thought every day since that day in the Drina Valley of her. And every day since Veendam as a football manager those feelings were only stronger.

“We need to talk”, she said as she danced those same eyes, years older, in to his head and heart.

Ryan didn't hear. He couldn't afford to.

Or that's what he told me. He lied.

[Bristol CityFC1981]

I live in taunton! Cracking story!

[Jibby123]

Thanks Bristol CityFC1981, appreciated

[Jibby123]

Madly, or maybe not, I've just noticed that Taunton Town have made it to the 4th Round qualifying of the FA Cup this season (in real life). Nothing to do with Ryan's laying down of foundations some seasons ago, but it tickled me to see the old Town doing ok.

[Jogo Bonito]

Interesting to stumble across this old story, and I'm planning to go to the Round 1 match at home to Barrow, especially as I plan to do a lower level save with my new home town team in FM17. Apologies for off-topic comments.

[mark wilson27]

Jibby im going to lock this story down.  If your going to add to your story let me know and I'll unlock it. We try and avoid bumping stories that havent had an update in nearly two years cheers