Death in a Far Country by Patricia Hall Read Free Book Online Page A

the
Gazette
, for that matter. But I don’t see why we shouldn’t give her the benefit of the doubt. She’s a breath of fresh air and she’s nobody’s fool. She’s a successful businesswoman in a cut-throat profession, so I don’t see why we should pander to the whingers and whiners just yet. Give her a chance, for God’s sake.’
    ‘It’s not just me. The fans are grumbling too,’ Holloway said defensively. ‘They don’t like it. They’ve not got much time for political correctness on the terraces. They liked old Sam Heywood. He was one of them, in spite of his brass. But a public relations woman from London? Who’s not been to a match in years? They just think she’s having a laugh.’
    ‘Well, I daresay the Chelsea game will fill me in,’ Laura said. ‘Jenna’s invited me into the directors’ box to see the game. I’ve never been to a football match before. It’ll be a new experience.’
    Holloway looked at her for a moment in apparent disbelief, his lips a perfect O of surprise in his rounded face.
    ‘She’s invited you to the Chelsea game? A lot of people would sell their grandmothers for a ticket for Saturday.’
    Laura smiled sweetly.
    ‘Why not?’ she asked. ‘I don’t think I’m taking any fan’s ticket as a guest of Jenna’s. And who else would I support?’ She was surprised to recognise just how much she and Jenna Heywood had in common in their unfashionable tendency to stick to Bradfield in spite of the temptations to play on a bigger stage.
    ‘If these clubs are going to survive at all, she reckons that you need to attract women and families to become fans. And some of the ethnic minorities. You can’t rely on elderly white menin cloth caps any more. There aren’t enough of them left, are there?’ Laura knew that such sentiments were often regarded as sacrilegious in the context of United, although she was equally sure that Tony Holloway, who was not stupid, recognised the truth of them. If something dramatic was not done at the club, it would continue its long slow decline into oblivion, in spite of the current season’s unexpected Cup success. And that, too, would in all likelihood dribble away into the sand this coming Saturday afternoon when the poor bloody infantry of Bradfield faced the stratospherically expensive guided missiles from Stamford Bridge. As Jenna had admitted – not for quoting, of course – it would probably be a massacre.
    ‘What’s all this about some millionaire property developer being interested in buying the club, anyway? You haven’t written about that, have you?’ Laura asked.
    Holloway shrugged and looked uncomfortable.
    ‘She knows about that, does she?’
    ‘No, I don’t think she’s heard more than the odd rumour,’ Laura said. ‘She was asking me about it, thinking that I would know. What’s it about, another Russian billionaire like the one who bought Chelsea or what?’
    ‘We should be so lucky. But it is just a rumour,’ Holloway said. ‘I’ve not been able to make it stand up as a story, though stranger things have happened. Football clubs are getting a bit like trophy wives – something every self-respecting millionaire wants to spend his money on. Worse things could happen to United.’
    ‘Just as long as it’s the football club he’s interested in and not just the property for redevelopment. That’s what Jenna says she’s afraid of.’
    ‘You’re not putting anything about that in your piece, are you? Ted Grant’ll think I’m falling down on my job if you do.’
    ‘No, I wasn’t planning to. I was concentrating on the personal in this piece. I’ll leave the financial skulduggery to you.’
    ‘You obviously got on well with our Jenna, then?’
    ‘Yes, I did actually,’ Laura said with a smile. ‘I liked her. She seems to know what she wants and she’s not going to be put off by unreconstructed Yorkshiremen who still think women should only speak when they’re spoken to. I don’t know much about