858 Confess

When Tony Twain returned to Nottingham with the Football Association Challenge Cup, everyone knew what his next goal would be. At this juncture, he would be letting the two previous championship titles down if he did not win the treble.

Like the league tournament, Twain gave the team a day off after winning the title to allow the players and coaches to have a break before they got ready to take on a strong opponent.

Having won two championship titles, Tony Twain once again became the focus of media attention. The reporters were unwilling to give up any opportunity to get close and interview him. Even if he was on vacation, he still had reporters who wanted to interview him.

Pierce Brosnan was one of them. He had an advantage over the other reporters. He had Twain's personal cell phone number, so he could contact him anywhere at any time. The other reporters did not have that privilege. Twain disliked the media. Even though he would not have been successful and arrogant had it not been for the media, he still would not show face to the media. Therefore, when the other media members wanted to interview Tony Twain exclusively, they could only submit applications to the club and wait for a reply. Their applications usually did not receive a positive response, so Twain had been called "England's most difficult manager to interview" and ranked first on the "reporters' most unpopular manager list."

Brosnan planned to contact Twain on his private line to request an interview.

He made three calls in a row starting at 8 a.m., but Twain's cell phone was turned off.

Brosnan shook his head in puzzlement. He thought for a while and could only guess it was because Twain was still in bed with his wife, either sleeping or making love, so he did not turn on his cell phone.

It looked like it was difficult to interview that man...

※※※

Brosnan thought Twain must be doing a morning exercise with his wife. In truth, he was wrong.

At 8 a.m., Twain went out alone in his car while Shania was still asleep in bed after a night of passion.

Even if Shania had awoken, Twain would not take her along. For the place Twain was going and the matter he needed to settle, he did not want anyone else to disturb, even if it was his wife, the most important person in his life. In order not to be disturbed by others, he even turned off his cell phone.

The place he was heading to was south of Nottingham near Clifton. Like the north of Nottingham, there was a large dense forest. Behind a church on top of a hill was a cemetery hidden from view in the woods.

Gavin Bernard, the first fan in George Wood's life, laid in rest there.

Twain had been there not long ago. Although he was English, he had not forgotten some of the traditional Chinese customs deep within him. For example, every year on the Qingming Festival, he would go back there to make offerings to Gavin. Considering the recent happenings, Twain had to take time out to make a trip. If the team had a game on the day of the Qingming Festival, he would go there a day ahead or the day after the game. The people around him did not quite understand why he chose to visit Gavin now because there was no Qingming Festival in the Western countries.

Returning again in a little more than a month, Twain brought Gavin two pieces of good news.

"The league tournament and the Football Association Challenge Cup ." Twain stood at Gavin's gravestone and said, "Everyone out there is going nuts with happiness. Do you know how many years it has been since Nottingham Forest won a Football Association Challenge Cup? Fifty-five years. It's half a century. Heh, to be honest, I didn't think of that issue before the game. When the reporters asked about it after the game, I only found out then that we had not won the Football Association Challenge Cup for so long. All is good now. Fifty-five years of resentment is finally over.

"Have you watched those two games? It was so hard to win the league tournament. I almost gave up... Truthfully speaking, I'll only say these words to you alone, Gavin. No one else knows... I really wanted to give up in the final three minutes. I even figured out how to deal with the nasty reporters. To eat a table?! I'll easily eat a table made of chocolate cake. Anyway, I did not state the material of the table! Ha!"

Twain laughed smugly.

"It's tiring to be a manager. I almost ended up down there to accompany you. But I'm tough. So many people want me to die, but I refuse to die. So, I'm still alive, and I'll continue to win championship titles for you. But ..." Twain thought for a bit before saying, "There's something buried in my heart for almost a year, and I haven't told anyone, not even my wife. Now, I'm going to tell you because I know you won't blabber to anyone... I'm going to give them a big surprise when the time comes!"

Twain turned to look around. There was no one else in the small cemetery. The wind blew from the forest through the cemetery. The sound of rustling leaves was the only sound that could be heard.

Twain got down on one knee and held the gravestone as if he were stroking Gavin's head. He bent his head down and wriggled his lips beside the tombstone but no sound came out.

With that, he stood up. With a smile on his face, he asked, "What do you think of the idea? I look forward to seeing their surprised expressions by then. But I have to say I'm sorry to you... Well, you're not going to be the chairman of the Nottingham Forest club anyway. If you really could, I would still be in that position even if I were 98 years old. Sometimes I look forward to that day and am excited just thinking about it in my mind."

Twain cocked his head as if he was fantasizing about a future like that.

But..." He looked away. His gaze focused again on the tombstone. "I can only think about it in my mind."

"There's only one championship title left." Twain sighed. "I suddenly have a kind of tiredness that appears at the end. Do you feel that way, Gavin? After you've run a marathon and see that the end is near but your body doesn't feel right, you don't want to run. Your legs are running out of energy. You can't breathe. It's as if you're just going to stop because you're tired."

Twain sat down, face to face with the tombstone.

"I don't want to run, but I can only say this to you here. I can only whine to you. If I were to fall before the finish line, I'll kill myself. Regardless of the outcome of the next game, I can't give up until the end of the game. You know what, Gavin? So many people are looking to me. My players, my colleagues, my boss, my supporters, my opponents... Countless eyes are on my back, and I can't make any mistakes. My supporters will be disappointed if I make a mistake while my opponents will clap their hands in delight. You're going to say, 'Why do I have to go head to head against so many people?' I can't help my lousy temper. I really can't pretend to be a nice guy. A tepid-like character is not suitable for me. I'm extreme. Either I die or they die... I'm 45 years old and still act like a child."

"Well, actually I'm not that old..." Twain coughed. He felt uncomfortable once he stated the age. "I'll tell you a little secret, which is something that not even the closest person to me knows about. I... Well..." He looked up and glanced around. There was still no one else around. "I came from another time and space. In that time and space, I'm not the Forest manager. I'm not even English. I'm very ordinary, and I don't know you either. If I hadn't come here, you wouldn't be lying here, would you?"

Twain shook his head and said, "Let's not talk about that. I will lose my fighting spirit after talking too much about some stuff."

While he was still chatting to Gavin as he sat on the ground, a person had turned in from the entrance of the cemetery.

※※※

George Wood bought a bunch of flowers outside the church and asked for a card. He wrote on it with crooked handwriting, "For Gavin, your George."

He only wrote "George" the best, which was from continuously signing autographs for the fans.

As he wrote on the card, he remembered how Twain had laughed at his ugly handwriting.

"Look at the words you wrote. It's worse than a grade-school student's handwriting!"

Wood inserted the card into the bouquet and picked it up as he went out of the florist.

It was at this point that the owner of the florist asked him in a whisper, "Are you really George Wood?"

When Wood walked through the door, he thought he was seeing things.

Wood did not say much. He just picked a bunch of lilies, asked for a card, paid, and left. The entire process took less than a minute. From the moment he stepped into the shop, he only spoke two sentences.

"Please give me a bouquet of lilies and a card."

"Thank you."

Wood did not have a habit of wearing sunglasses to hide his identity when he went out, but he would not take the initiative to expose himself either. The florist did not react at first because he did not think that George Wood would come to his little flower shop. It was not until Wood left that he reacted.

"What's he doing here?" he muttered as he frowned in puzzlement.

※※※

As Wood walked into the cemetery, he saw a man sitting in front of his destination. It was as if he was saying something.

When he got closer, he recognized the man sitting on the ground. It was the boss.

Twain also realized that Wood was nearby. Neither of them was surprised to see each other there.

Twain stood up and gave way to Wood, who stepped up to put the bouquet in front of the gravestone, close to the bouquet that Twain had placed before him.

"Do you want me to give you some privacy?" Twain was going to leave first.

Wood shook his head and said, "No. I have nothing to say."

"You're so heartless, George." Twain began to tease George.

Unexpectedly, Wood replied, "I don't know what to say."

Twain stared blankly for a moment. He waved his hands and said, "Let's go. I'll give you a ride back."

Wood nodded his head.

The two men glanced at Gavin Bernard's gravestone at the same time and turned to leave.

"Aren't you going to buy a car, George? You're now a big star. People may laugh at a big star without a car."

"I've no use for it at the moment."

"You have such low expectations in life. Are you not going to find yourself a girl? How old are you, George?"

"Twenty-seven."

"Twenty-seven and you still don't want to look for a girl. Do you want people to say you're gay?"

"I love my mother."

Twain turned to glance at Wood and said nothing.

No one would believe it if it was known that a 27-year-old star was still single. It was to be expected and reasonable when it came to George Wood. There seemed to be room for only one woman in his life, and that was his mother. The child with an Oedipus complex could never imagine what it would be like to have another woman share his love. Even Twain had a deep-rooted belief that it would be a strange sight if one day a woman, who was not his mother, was by Wood's side.

※※※

When he took Wood home, Twain met Sophia.

Sophia was delighted to see Twain. Her face was even flushed. She wanted Twain to stay for lunch, but he tactfully declined because he had to go home to spend time with his wife. Shania must have made lunch and been waiting for him.

Sophia was a little disappointed, but her look of disappointment was soon covered up.

Twain did not go inside the house. His mood became complicated every time he faced Sophia. He knew how she felt about him, but he was a man with a wife. He did not think it was appropriate for him to be with Sophia. For her to get out of the delusion, he deliberately kept his distance. It would hurt Sophia a little, but it was better than to lie to her.

While Sophia was urging Twain to stay for lunch, Wood stood at the side and said nothing.

Twain recalled Wood's words and felt strange. He did not linger and quickly said goodbye to the mother and son.

In his heart, he only hoped that Sophia and George would live happily.

※※※

Pierce Brosnan intended to call all day. However, Twain's cell phone was always turned off. He was confused. Twain's cell phone was rarely switched off. Even at 2 or 3 a.m., a call to him would still go through. Of course, it was also unsurprising that he would be scolded by him after the call had connected and be hung up on.

He thought of a lot of possibilities in his head. The more he thought, the worse it got. He decided not to think about it.

He did not get through until after 9 p.m.

When he heard the sound coming from the line was not prompting him with "The number you have dialed is not in service" message but the "beep-beep-beep-beep" tone of waiting to answer, he almost felt the impulse of excitement.

"I've been calling you all day, Tony!" Brosnan cried excitedly on the phone.

"Are you trying to woo me? Unfortunately, I don't like men, Mr. Reporter," Twain jokingly said.

"I wanted to ask you for an interview. Now that you are a red-hot star, I was afraid that I would be too late, and you would be snapped by someone else ..."

"I'm not merchandise... All right, I promise you, but not right now, tomorrow, or the day after tomorrow... I will not take any interviews until the Champions League final. I have rejected all the applications sent to the club for interviews. You're no exception, even though we have a good friendship."

"Is it so you can prepare for the Champions League final with a peace of mind?"

"Of course. Actually, I'm doing you a favor, Mr. Reporter. When I win the Champions League, it's going to be difficult for you to ask me for an interview," Twain seriously said.

Twain was putting on airs, but Brosnan did not care as long as Twain had promised him an interview.

"Well, that's great. I wanted to confirm this... Well then, I'll leave you guys be..." Brosnan hurriedly hung up because he heard Shania's laughter on the other end of the line.

※※※

Shania could not help but laugh when she saw Twain's straight face as he put on airs.

Twain put down his cell phone and opened his hands to Shania.

Shania immediately came closer and leaned in her husband's arms.

"Where do you want to go this summer, Shania?" Twain asked as he gently smelled her hair.

"Aren't you going to be busy? Is BBC asking you to do the commentary for the World Cup in South Africa? When the World Cup is over, the team should be training again, shouldn't they?" Shania asked.

Twain smiled and replied, "Who can say what's going to happen in the future? Where do you want to go?"

Shania curled her body in Twain's arms and closed her eyes. As she enjoyed his caress, she muttered, "Anywhere is fine, just as long as I'm with you..."

Twain lovingly stroked Shania's hair and said nothing.