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Ed hugs Sonja tight and then kisses her on top of the head, she always pretends that it infuriates her - screwing her nose up in mock grimace, which in turn makes him laugh. He loves the way she always tries to hug back just as hard, it’s just one of the many little things about her that add up to the wonder that she is. From somewhere he hears faint music growing more urgent…

…and I’d stay for ages, if I could, to wake you-oo…

He rolled over and hit the snooze button on the CD-alarm, turning back to find the bed empty. Of course it was empty, it was always empty, she’d been gone for nearly eight months now but still the dreams came – albeit less frequently these days.

He checked the clock - 7.03, and lay on his back deciding to wait until five past. He tried to bring the feeling from the dream back but, in the cold reality of wakefulness, more recent memories refused to give the happier ones a foothold.

She’s gone Ed, she went off without a word – just that stupid note - and you have to accept that, now get a move on – first day of a new job and all that

Ah yes, the new job, not exactly new but a step up all the same. How long had they…. he… been out here now? Six years? Seven? Even now he could appreciate the slower pace of life, in his final years at Spurs every day had seemed to begin with the knotting of muscles in anticipation of the day’s stresses, but as soon as he’d completed his move to the continent that had all changed.

He rolled over and looked at the clock – 7.11, best wait for quarter past then.

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OK thanks to the unfortunate events of last weekend I'm going to re-post what has gone before in my French epic. It's a bit of a bind of course, and it's unfortunate that I'll lose the kind words that many of you (some now departed) left when originally posting - if I consider any of them particularly key then I'll drop them back in as [quotes] because I'm working from saved copies of the forum threads (my preferred archive method)

On the bright side, having taken a six month break from playing/writing, this will force me to go back over the story so far which will help me to recapture the overall mood and flow of the story.

Oh, and when I get to the point that I'm posting 'new' material I'll make sure I put some sort of 'bookmark' in so everyone doesn't have to wade through the whole thing again

flipsix3 Nov 2005

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The drive to work was as pleasant as ever, the Aquitaine region of France was a beautiful area which was why they’d felt so relaxed and settled here after a relatively short few months. When Bordeaux had first made a bid for him, back in the late 90’s, they’d both been somewhat reluctant to consider a move – he more than Sonja. In the end it had been her hard work that had convinced him, she’d actually travelled here to look around and had come back a changed woman. He’d been left with a choice, see out his time at White Hart Lane or relocate to the sunny climes of south-west France. Once Sonja had come back from her field trip, all smiles and giggles, the decision had seemed a lot easier.

Whilst the lifestyle change had been easy, the footballing upheaval had been less so. Having arrived at the North London club in 1990, from his home town of Huddersfield, he’d made a few appearances in their last FA Cup winning squad, playing alongside the likes of Edinburgh, Lineker, and Gascoigne. He’d missed out on the final, in favour of a few of the more established players – a fact that he couldn’t begrudge them – and from then on he’d formed a strong friendship with a number of his colleagues.

Leaving for Bordeaux had meant adapting to a whole new style of play, whilst trying to pick up the fundamentals of the French language. He laughed to himself, it was still hard for him to hold anything but the most basic of conversations in the native tongue and he was thankful that English was so widely spoken. He settled eventually, becoming an integral part of the team that made it to two consecutive French League Cup finals (losing both), and played on for several years as he drifted further and further from regular first team action.

The opportunity had come to return to England, Barnet and Leyton Orient had both made offers, but the couple had become enamoured with life on the continent and when Pau FC had offered him a role as player-coach, last year, he’d jumped at the chance.

They hadn’t needed to move from their home – a modest villa in the countryside south-east of Mont-de-Marsan, in fact it had simply meant travelling as far south as he used to travel north, and he thought that nothing could make him happier. Of course, although he was contracted as a player-coach he gradually found himself employed more as the latter, but that didn’t bother him – he studied for his UEFA certification and, on the day that he received accreditation for the final assessment, he came home with flowers and champagne… and that’s when he’d found that note.

Look, just leave it Ed, it’s not the time to start thinking about that again, just get to work and concentrate on the job

Of course he was right, he’d thrown himself into his coaching to try and numb the pain and now, with the new season approaching, he had even more on his plate to keep his mind busy.

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When Marc Lévy had announced his resignation at the end of the 2003/04 campaign many had been surprised, at forty-two he was a fairly young manager and those associated with the club – Ed included – had expected him to spend time there proving himself before looking to move up. Instead he had simply walked away, it had been a number of weeks before any of his closer friends at the club discovered that he had left to spend more time with his wife who had, much to everyone’s horror, been diagnosed with bowel cancer at the tender age of thirty-four.

Ed had always been a popular player with the fans, although he’d be lying if he claimed to have been a regular part of the squad. In his two seasons or so he’d amassed little more than two dozen starts, and a handful of appearances from the bench. It therefore came as a shock when Monsieur Le Coadou had offered him the managerial role for the new season.

“…yes Mister Allen, I’m completely sure that you’re the man for the job as you put it. The other coaches will back you, and none of them have what is needed to take the helm, it is your job if you want it”

He sat behind his new desk and recalled the conversation with a smile, management wasn’t something he’d considered, but then he hadn’t dismissed the idea either – it just had never come up as a topic of conversation before. It had taken him a while to make his decision, his mind still kept wandering to Sonja, but in the end he’d agreed a deal with Le Coadou and now here he was.

Thankfully there were no high expectations, he’d learned in his few months with Pau that they were unlikely to challenge for the National Division title, in fact Le Coadou and his associates were just looking to retain their league status. From what he’d seen in the games at the end of last season, that would be tough enough.

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Ed looked down the squad roster, it was going to be interesting trying to get the team playing his way – he didn’t favour the standard 4-4-2, or 5-3-2 formations that most European managers seemed to work with, but he only had access to one of the attacking full-backs that his desired tactics really craved.

Jacques Leglib, at 28-years-old, would be the obvious choice in goal, a veteran of some ninety or more appearances in the years that he’d been at Pau, not counting the two or three seasons that he’d spent at other clubs during that time. The Frenchman was well travelled, including two seasons in Portugal, and in training he looked a decent proposition.

It was interesting to Ed that Pau contained so many players from outside of France, albeit from countries with strong ties. His central defensive partnership would be part (Republic of) Congolese, in the form of Eugène Kangulungu Mbahu (fortunately known as Kangu to his team-mates), and part Senegalese – a rising star by the name of Khalifa Elhadji Ba, a strong teenage prospect whom Ed had managed to arrange a season-long loan for from Marseille. Kangu looked solid and reliable, an established player who gave the feeling that he knew how to do exactly enough, and nothing more - Ba, on the other hand, looked full of bravado and seemed to put himself about a bit more, never shying away from a strong tackle in training. Both were big men, a trait that Ed favoured, and they should control the box well.

Whilst he lacked the sort of flying right-back that he really wanted, Ed did have a player who could fill the role for now. Julien Labat, a 22-year-old local boy in his fifth season with the club, would take up station on the right. He frequently showed his pace in training but his enthusiasm needed to be toned down a little, Ed was trying to instil in the teenager the fact that he would be expected to carry the ball at his feet, rather than outrun it as he seemed prone to doing.

On the left Anicet Adjamossi – loaned from Bordeaux, the benefit of still having friends at the club – looked to be more of a fit to the role that Ed intended and he already considered him to be one of the key players from what he saw on the practice pitch.

One of the most important elements of Ed’s chosen style would be the covering man, sitting in front of the back four Vincent Di Bartolomeo would be asked to drop back as the full-backs pushed up. When the opposition had possession though, he would push on to add extra weight to midfield. It was an unusual role, most players were accustomed to playing more defensively when out of possession and then pushing up when their team was on the attack, but in his playing days it was a tactic that Ed himself had adopted – it had not always impressed his manager… until he was on hand to make a decisive tackle or two.

The midfield trio would be anchored by the veteran Laurent Bédani, the 31-year-old Frenchman was the perfect fit for the role as far as Ed was concerned. He would bring the experience and cool head that his pivotal role required, with much of the play coming through him.

Pushing up from midfield, while Bédani played the holding role, would be Matthieu Aernoudt and Nicolas Cami. Neither was quite the attack-minded player that Ed would have chose, given carte-blanche, but he knew that he was working within limitations and they both looked like they could do a job.

The strike partnership would be a strong pairing, quite literally, with Ed opting for two big forwards who could both act as target men and hold the ball up. Stéphane Millereau was embarking on his second season at the club, although he hadn’t really performed in his first Ed had seen the signs of a good striker in the making. He would be partnered by Bertrand Tchami - a pacey forward who had spent a couple of seasons struggling in the French Second Division after a stellar season with Romorantin. Ed hoped that his return to the National Division would see him turn on that style again.

Outside the starting line-up Ed had yet to form any real opinions, Gaël Bonnel was, according to the coaching staff, a star in the making – he would push Tchami and Millereau for a spot, but other than that he would wait until a few games in before marking anyone else as a regular sub.

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It was a facet of Ed’s personality, a fault in his own eyes, that he would frequently sit at home and worry about decisions made, even those made by others. He would go over and over the possible outcomes in his mind until he was convinced that the worst would come to pass, one such mental meandering occurred on the night before Pau’s pre-season clash.

To mark his debut campaign as manager Le Coadou had arranged a single friendly before the season kicked off, and he’d arranged for Halifax to cross the Channel to play it. Of course Ed knew that there were no expectations, it was simply a pre-season game, one in which the squad – a number of who would be playing together for the first time - could start to get a feel for the workings of Ed’s formation.

On the morning of the game though, Ed had awoken in a cold sweat, with a quiet corner of his mind assuring him that it was a make or break day, that defeat would put him on the slippery slope. Thankfully in trying to put a level headed slant on things he had finally buried such concerns, after no small amount of battling with himself, and by the end of breakfast he was actually quite looking forward to the game.

It was a gloriously sunny day, just what he had become used to in this part of the world, and both sides enjoyed the run out. Whilst Halifax took the win there were a lot of positives for Ed. Pau had created a number of good chances and, once the team started to gel, he would hope to see more of them capitalised upon – all in all there had been nothing to disappoint.

After the game, with his side looking weary but happy, Ed ran over the finer points of his notes, pointing out where work needed to be done - through the middle of defence - and where they had really shone, particularly the number of telling passes from Bédani in midfield.

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Unfortunately things had been left a little late it seemed, and Ed struggled to make any last-minute arrangements for another pre-season run out – added to an injury setback, when Tchami broke his cheek in training – he knew that the early season was going to be an uphill battle.

Driving back home that evening, with the windows rolled down and the car stereo belting out his favourite Jason & the Scorchers CD, the new manager was all smiles despite his concerns over opening day – it was hard not to smile when driving through this part of the country in the late evening’s summer sun. There would be another ten days or so of training, and then he would be ready to lead his side out as they returned to action in the league.

He’d heard nothing, whilst at the ground, from his sole scout. Plans had been set in motion to add a second spotter but there'd been no success on that front as yet – he called Frédéric Robin to see if he’d managed to turn up any young talent in the quieter towns of the country. Surprisingly the amiable Frenchman had come up with a dozen or so prospects and they decided to meet for dinner to chat them over, Ed showered and phoned through to his favoured local restaurant to book a table for two.

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“Ah good evening Monsieur Allen, it has been quite a while since we have seen you I think, will the lovely lady be joining you?”

The question stung him for a moment, had it really been that long since he’d been here? Did they not know? He didn’t want to go into that story right now, instead he apologised that Sonja wouldn’t be dining tonight, and advised the maître d’hôtel that his associate would be arriving presently.

He was enjoying a cool glass of white wine when Robin arrived, they shook hands and ordered their appetisers and main course. Whilst they waited for their food the scout produced a list of names, immediately crossing through two or three of them, and gave Ed a brief overview of each of the remainder.

Ed was looking for a number of factors in young players, but the main thrust was for pace – he wanted to build a team that would pass and move at a rate that, if nothing else, would wear the opposition down. He was content to use what he had for the time being, with so many players already new to the squad – summer transfers that Lévy had arranged – he had no desire to replace huge numbers already, but there were one or two genuinely attractive prospects on Robin’s list.

By the time that dessert arrived the two had whittled the list down to three names, Robin would spend some time looking more closely at a young winger by the name of Jérôme Bergé, and another midfield man. Ed, meanwhile, would make the appropriate calls to offer a trial to Romain Testas, a versatile teenage forward currently plying his trade in the non-league ranks of the French game.

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Ed quickly had to rethink on Testas once he heard that rival National League side, Bayonne, had put in a bid. A cash offer was put on the table and Ed demanded a rapid response in an attempt to force the youngster’s hand – the gamble paid off and the striker came on board in time for the season’s opener. With Tchami out injured, and Bonnel taking his spot, Ed decided to give the new arrival a place on the bench for the game at home to Raon-l’Etape.

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Closing the door behind him, Ed threw the keys onto the coffee table and made for the kitchen, and the cold beer in the fridge. He poured his drink slowly into a glass before walking out onto the terrace that overlooked acres of farmland behind his grounds.

As first games go he couldn’t have asked for anything more, he’d literally just settled himself on the bench, still fidgeting due to nerves, when Millereau had broken through the visiting defence to give them the most unlikely start. Ed had been, to use a favourite phrase of his father’s, well and truly gob-smacked but he’d still expected it all to come crashing down. His nerves had melted away mid-way through the half though, Millereau had doubled his tally, matching his goal count for the entire previous season in just over twenty minutes, and Pau were seemingly cruising.

Raon-l’Etape had created chances of their own, on paper the tie could have gone either way, but Ed had found himself thoroughly enjoying the game, and even a serious looking injury to Matthieu Aernoudt hadn’t dampened his spirits. The game continued to ebb and flow but it was finishing that was the key and when Cami neatly tucked away a late through-ball from Testas the difference had been clear.

Yes, all things being equal, it had been a great day, Ed leaned back and took a deep swallow of his beer. There was a niggling feeling that there was something he ought to be worried about, but in the afterglow of the game he couldn’t place it and didn’t really care…

The phone rang, making Ed jump. He swallowed the last of his beer and set the glass aside. Picking the phone up his mood quickly disappeared through the floor. He’d forgotten about Aernoudt, as his team had romped to an easy win he’d been swept along with the emotion of the occasion – but now he knew what it was that had been trying to grab his attention. The midfield man had been taken to hospital as a precaution and the verdict was in – a broken leg, and out of the squad for most of the season.

Ed hung up the phone and went looking for a second, less celebratory, beer.

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As soon as he arrived in his office the next morning he was on the phone. He was still waiting on a detailed scout report on Jérôme Bergé, but the initial assessment had been very favourable and Bergé played the same role as Aernoudt. He had cover from within, but no-one who had really impressed in training – if he could land Bergé then he’d be killing two birds with one stone, if not then he wasn’t about to panic.

Again he was under pressure, he knew that the youngster had already attracted bids, so he played the deadline card for a second time in the space of a week. Whilst the move produced a rapid, and positive, response from Bergé’s club it quickly became apparent that the youngster was not interested in joining Pau – Ed decided not to push matters, he would fill the spot from the reserves whilst looking around for options in the transfer market.

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Mourad N’Zif got the nod for the game at Roye. Ed decided to start with N’Zif and swap at half time, bringing in Noureddine El Yamani – a teenager rated as a very good prospect by the coaching team. After the bitter-sweet result of the opening day Ed was firmly back in his self-induced semi-panic.

It was another strong showing from his side though, they weren’t afraid to get forward and create chances although the finish seemed to be eluding them this time. N’Zif did a job, but far from a great one, El Yamani looked slightly better for around twenty minutes and then Ed’s heart sank as the youngster indicated that he needed to come off.

The necessary change was made and Anthony Gardan, a full-back by trade, was asked to take the mantle of third choice supply-line. Ten minutes later Gardan broke through the defence and fired in a low shot, the keeper parried it well but Millereau pounced to open the scoring.

A late strike from Kangu secured a first win on the road, and it was all smiles from Ed on the coach when he was told that El Yamani would only miss a few days with a slight strain. Once again he’d been fearing the worst, trying not to believe that their season was over before it had begun, and once again he’d been shown that he was blowing things way out of proportion

You’re going to have to kill off this pessimist streak if you want to survive more than a month in this job without suffering a coronary mate! He told himself as he slipped into a doze.

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The first two games of the season had, it seemed, been a relatively easy warm up for Ed’s team – both opponents were in the bottom three without a point or a goal to their names, both were tipped as fellow relegation fodder by the French press. That was far from the case with Valence, the hotly tipped promotion favourites had swept past Pau after their 4-1 demolition of Rouen, taking the top spot in the table, and Ed spent a good half-hour going over the finer points of containing the opposition as he warmed the lads up for the game.

It was easy to see why Valence were held in such high esteem, they started the game with a pace and ferocity that the Pau players – particularly the youngsters – hadn’t expected, the ball was being passed around at high speed and Ed noted, with concern, that two or three of his lads seemed overwhelmed by the step up from the previous two matches. He tried to get his message across – stay calm, watch the ball and not the man, just take deep breaths and pick your moment - sure enough it seemed to do the trick. Instead of lunging in his midfield started to calculate more, biding their time and stripping the ball, playing passes into space.

To Ed’s surprise the breakthrough came from his team. Once they’d settled, and slowed the pace of the game a little, they started to take the initiative – putting the pressure on their visitors the strike partnership forced a poor backpass from Medhi Lacen, the keeper panicked and scuffed his clearance straight to Gael Bonnel who lashed home his first goal for the club. It was hardly a classic, Ed would never argue it’s case as a goal of the month, not even a goal of the week, but that would come later…… for now they were ahead.

What Bonnel’s goal lacked in style was made up by the equaliser. A poor tackle thirty yards out gave Valence a free-kick, whilst the defence tried to decide who the runner was going to be the two thousand or so fans were treated to a spectacular curling drive from Lacen – atoning for his earlier mistake in some style. Ed thought that half-time was going to be a tough-talking session but his team were determined to prove him wrong, they had their backs up now and they started to pile on the pressure and the chances. Bonnel went close again and then, finally, Millereau put one on target after a couple of early misfires.

The second half was one way traffic, Pau had the advantage, they had the home fans, and suddenly they had the momentum. Bédani saw a penalty saved, sending Ed’s confidence plummeting for a few minutes, but there still looked to be no way back for the visitors and the killer blow came when Romain Testas was given the nod to give Bonnel a rest. It would be easy to exaggerate things, to make rash comparisons – Pau were literally, and metaphorically, in a different league to the world’s best - but what Ed saw in Testas was reminiscent of what he, and the rest of the world, had witnessed in Wayne Rooney during that summer’s Euro 2004 matches.

The 19-year-old picked up the ball time after time and ran at defenders, he skipped through challenges and laid on chances that Millereau really should have buried, but in the end the youngster put the icing on the cake himself. With the final whistle looming Anicet Adjamossi spotted Testas making a run toward the 18-yard box, his pass was inch perfect and the forward – marked by two men – received it and turned in one movement, forced wide he took the ball almost to the byline before looking up and forcing a shot between the keeper and the post, a space that Ed would have sworn wasn’t there at all!