The sky was clear, uninterrupted blue and the sun held a position high above the red-tiled roof of the hotel. Despite pushing to go out for supplies sooner rather than later, last-minute nerves and tiredness had combined and the planned trip out had been delayed until the next morning. Most of the group found themselves outdoors, relaxing in the relatively fresh air and enjoying the luxury of being able to spend time out in the open. It wasn’t long before the football had been found. “Shoot, you idiot!” Jas yelled at Harte, who’d just dribbled the ball between Webb’s legs and now had a clear shot at goal. Sean waited on the goal line, trying to guess which way he needed to dive. “I’ve got him!” shouted Amir, sprinting toward Harte, ready to throw himself at the ball. Aware that he was there, Harte waited until the last possible second, then sold him a dummy, flicked the ball a couple of feet to his right, lined up his shot, and blasted the ball at Sean.
