This is a work of fiction.

Names, characters, places and incidents are products

of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual
events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

First published in 2024

Copyright © Karen Viggers 2024

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in

any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying,
recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without prior
permission in writing from the publisher. The Australian Copyright Act 1968
(the Act) allows a maximum of one chapter or 10 per cent of this book, whichever
is the greater, to be photocopied by any educational institution for its educational
purposes provided that the educational institution (or body that administers it) has
given a remuneration notice to the Copyright Agency (Australia) under the Act.

Allen & Unwin

Cammeraygal Country
83 Alexander Street
Crows Nest NSW 2065
Australia
Phone: (61 2) 8425 0100
Email: [email protected]
Web: www.allenandunwin.com

Allen & Unwin acknowledges the Traditional Owners of the Country

on which we live and work. We pay our respects to all Aboriginal and
Torres Strait Islander Elders, past and present.

A catalogue record for this

book is available from the
National Library of Australia

ISBN 978 1 76147 071 4

Author photograph by Zhenshi van der Klooster

Set in 13/18 pt Adobe Garamond Pro by Midland Typesetters, Australia
Printed and bound in Australia by the Opus Group

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

The paper in this book is FSC® certified.

FSC® promotes environmentally responsible,
socially beneficial and economically viable
management of the world’s forests.

Sidelines_TXT.indd 12 16/10/2023 9:47 am

 ‘If there was a game of football that went forever,
I would play until I died.’
Kai Trewin at age 11 (2012)

Please remember
These are children
This is a game
The coaches are volunteers
The referees are human
This is not the World Cup
Sign at a junior club football field

Sidelines_TXT.indd 15 10/10/23 2:32 pm

 PROLOGUE

S iren wailing, lights flashing, the ambulance threads its

way through traffic. Cars veer, swerve, try to pull out of
the way. But it’s gridlock, three packed lanes all the way to the
intersection.
‘Take her up on the footpath,’ says the senior paramedic.
The rig rocks as it climbs the kerb. Wild eyes peer through
car windows as they pass. At the lights, they drop back onto
the road and roar through.
The paramedic squints at the GPS. ‘Turn left here.’
They round the corner and accelerate along a side street.
The field is straight ahead: a patchwork quilt of pitches fringed
by orange cones. Imposing concrete clubhouse. Tiered spec­
tator seating. Large car park lined by pine trees.
The other paramedic, driving, kills the siren as they draw near.
A man stands by an open gate and waves them through.
They bump across pock-marked grass, bypassing a stalled
game, gaping faces, a bloke videoing on his phone.

Sidelines_TXT.indd 1 10/10/23 2:32 pm

 K AREN VIGGERS

In the middle of the field, an official in a fluoro-orange

vest directs them to a gathering of long-faced people huddled
in small groups. Adults and kids, some in tracksuits, some in
coats. Players in blue-and-white vertical stripes, others in red
jerseys and filthy white shorts. All watching.
The man in the vest yells at everyone to make room.
The crowd parts.
The driver eases the ambulance through. All around,
anxious faces. Kids with tear-streaked cheeks. Drooping
shoulders. Heads hanging.
On the ground, someone in recovery position beneath a
grey woollen blanket.
They pull up as close as possible, grab their gear and leap
out.
The paramedic sets down his bag and drops to his knees
on the damp grass, takes a quick look at the patient. Pale
skin, slow breaths, fluttering lids. Crooked face. Bruising and
swelling already emerging on the jaw. Undoubtedly, a signifi-
cant fracture.
He checks the eyes. Lifts the lip. Assesses the neck care-
fully. Takes the pulse and blood pressure while his partner
tugs back the blanket and navigates her way along the patient’s
prone body, checking for injuries.
No other breaks. But a broken jaw and a serious head injury.
The paramedic can’t work it out. They’re nowhere near the
goalpost, which means it wasn’t an encounter with an upright.
So how did it happen? An accidental mid-air collision? Or
something more sinister? He’s seen bad injuries like this in fist
fights in pubs. Surely not here . . .

Sidelines_TXT.indd 2 10/10/23 2:32 pm

 SIDELIN ES

He glances around. The crowd has shuffled in close. Air

heavy with tension. Guarded looks. Restless feet. The scent of
roast lamb and barbecue sausages on the wind.
Across the field, all the way to the clubhouse, people are
watching, waiting.
Cockatoos screech in the pine trees.
He exchanges a glance with his partner, sees the quick lift
of her eyebrows.
Her face is studiously blank, a polished veneer. But she’s
thinking the same thing as him. What the hell happened here?

Sidelines_TXT.indd 3 10/10/23 2:32 pm

 NINE MONTHS AGO

Sidelines_TXT.indd 5 10/10/23 2:32 pm

 SUPPORT

Having other team mates nearby to help in

attack or defence. A phrase spoken to a
team mate to let them know you are there.

Sidelines_TXT.indd 6 10/10/23 2:32 pm

 JONICA

J onica swings her black four-wheel-drive Mercedes into the

car park beside the football field and checks the time. It’s
the first trial for next season, and they’re late. She did her level
best to hurry the twins out the door this afternoon, but they
were slow. Who wouldn’t be, after a full day at school in this
heat? And who in their right mind would hold trials on such
a hot day? Only six weeks since last season finished, and here
she is again, early November, the end of spring, dropping her
kids off to exert themselves in 38-degree heat when they ought
to be home in the pool. But football is their passion, as Ben
calls it. And this is what you must do if your kids want to play
in the Youth Premier League.
Too much soccer, she’d told Ben last night. And he’d laughed.
It’s football, not soccer, he’d said. And there’s no such thing as too
much, and you know it. You want them to succeed as much as
I do. Normally she would agree—she’s fully invested in the
twins and their interests. But holding a trial when it’s so hot?

Sidelines_TXT.indd 7 10/10/23 2:32 pm

 K AREN VIGGERS

The coaches should have cancelled it. Someone might get

heat stroke.
Hot air pours in through the doors as Alex and Audrey
tip out onto the tarmac. ‘Got your water bottles?’ she calls
after them. Audrey waves hers in the air, but Alex is already
gone, silver Nike soccer boots flashing as he darts across the
car park.
Audrey stops and looks back, face scrunched, shoulders up
near her ears. This morning she was all fired up, talking to
Ben about trials, but since she got home from school, she’s
been quiet. After the Women’s World Cup, she became super-
enthused about soccer. Ben had told her that she needed to
play with boys to go the next step—that’s why she’s trying out
for this team. As far as Jonica’s concerned, the presence of a
bunch of adolescent boys simply adds extra pressure. She tried
to raise this with Ben, but he’s from a family where it was just
him and his brother and he has no idea what it’s like to be a
teenage girl in a transforming body.
She lowers her window and summons a bright smile. ‘You’ll
be fine,’ she calls. ‘How many other girls can do two thousand
juggles? Only girls headed for the Matildas!’
A small grin from Audrey. She’s worked hard on her
juggling; it sets her apart from other players.
‘Go on,’ Jonica says. ‘Remember everything Dad told you.’
Audrey hurries off.
Jonica reminds herself that it’s natural for her daughter to
be anxious. She’ll be right once she’s out there. Ben says it
works like that for him in front of a jury: a few nerves can
enhance performance, get the neurons firing. He was the one

Sidelines_TXT.indd 8 10/10/23 2:32 pm

 SIDELIN ES

who insisted that the twins play soccer. Apparently, all of life is
to be had out there on the field. Jonica is yet to see anything in
it other than stress and anxiety.
She performs a contortionist back-seat inspection to check
for Alex’s water bottle. There it is, on the floor. She’ll have to
take it to him—he’s going to need it in this heat. She grabs
the bottle and swings out of the car, plodding across the car
park under a cloudless sky. She can smell the baking tarmac,
the tangy pine trees alongside the field. Maybe they’re in for a
stinker of a summer. Maybe it’s climate change.
At the Minotaurs clubhouse, Dominik the coach, his assist­
ant, Kyle, and a few of the parents, are helicopters hovering
in the shade. They turn to look at her as she arrives. All the
usual faces. It’s the same out on the field: the same kids trying
out all over again. Most were in the team last year and they’ll
probably get in again. But a few players have left, so there are
vacancies. Even so, you have to wonder why the coaches have
scheduled so many trials—five in a row from tonight, one each
week from now into December. Jonica doesn’t understand it.
Surely it will only take a couple of sessions to detect any new
talent—it’s pretty obvious.
Alex has been with this team for three years now, ever since
he and his mate Noah decided the school team wasn’t good
enough. The school wasn’t happy, of course—private schools
think they own you these days. But Ben had argued that the
school couldn’t hold kids back unless they could provide
the same level of coaching as an external club, so Alex and
Noah were allowed to go. Ben chose the Minotaurs because
it’s a highly ranked club with a good reputation and a program

Sidelines_TXT.indd 9 10/10/23 2:32 pm

 K AREN VIGGERS

that goes from youth to adults. Most of the teams finish high
on the ladder, which is important to Ben—he likes winning.
For a Greek club, it’s more diverse than you’d think, with
kids coming from suburbs up to an hour’s drive away, all over
north-western Sydney.
Jonica would have preferred the twins to play at the little
local club, closer to home, which is where they first started
in the Mini Roos when they were five. But Ben said the
local club wasn’t strong enough in the older age groups. And
he wanted the twins to have the best. The Greeks are passion­
ate, he’d said. And that’s a good thing. Passion can take you
a long way in football. He also liked the fact that the club
allowed girls to play on boys’ teams, if they were good
enough to get in.
Jonica twists the water bottle in her hands and wonders
how to deliver it to Alex. He’s out on the field, kicking a ball
with Noah. The coaches are watching; she’ll have to wait.
Audrey is over near the pine trees, doing her stretches. Last
year, in the Minotaurs girls’ team, she tore a ligament in her
ankle and the physio gave her exercises as part of her regular
warm-up routine. She’s doing them now. Jonica hopes the
coaches will notice, but they’ve turned away and are yapping
to each other in the shade, hands folded on top of their bellies.
As another girl strolls onto the field, Jonica stiffens. She’d
recognise that flat-footed stride anywhere. The round shoul-
ders. The jutting chin. The long dark hair in a high ponytail.
It’s Katerina.
Katerina was in Audrey’s team last season. She had a habit
of slamming into people at training—the sort of play that’s

10

Sidelines_TXT.indd 10 10/10/23 2:32 pm

 SIDELIN ES

effective during a game, but out of line with your own team
mates. Jonica and the other parents had been upset about it,
murmuring among themselves every time Katerina knocked
someone down. Nobody raised it with the coach, of course,
because that’s not what you do, in case the coach takes it as
criticism and then has it in for your kid.
Jonica had stayed quiet too, until Katerina had deliber-
ately body-slammed Audrey during training, knocking her
down and causing the ankle injury. Jonica took Audrey to the
physio and he’d shaken his head. Told her he could patch up
the ankle with tape and give Audrey strengthening exercises
to get her back on the field as soon as possible, but she might
need surgery later on. You have to talk to the coach and put a
stop to this, he’d said to Jonica.
At the next training session, which Audrey was still
expected to attend to show she was committed, Jonica and
Ben had approached the coach after everyone had gone home.
The coach was affronted at first and said that rough play was
part of the game. But Ben had insisted that Katerina was
over the top, and if the coach didn’t take action he would
have to go to the committee. The coach hadn’t liked that,
of course, but was forced to acknowledge that K ­ aterina’s
collisions were excessive. In the end, she’d agreed to talk
to Katerina.
Katerina’s mother, Carmen, hadn’t taken it well. She’d
confronted Jonica, declaring there was nothing wrong with
Katerina’s game. It’s not my daughter’s fault that Audrey twisted
an ankle, Carmen had said (Jonica remembers every word). If
Audrey can’t hack it, she shouldn’t play at this level. Next time

11

Sidelines_TXT.indd 11 10/10/23 2:32 pm

 K AREN VIGGERS

you have an issue with my daughter, come to me. Jonica had

been glad of her legal training as she stared Carmen in the
eye and informed her that she wasn’t the only one who was
unhappy about Katerina.
But even after that, Katerina remained the coach’s favourite
and queen bee of the team, always criticising and bossing the
other players around. Every weekend, she was on for whole
games while other girls spent half the game on the bench. For
Jonica, the injustice of it still stings.
She twirls Alex’s water bottle in her hands. It’s such a shame
Katerina is here. More competition for Audrey. Carmen must
have got word about it, somehow, though God knows how she
found out—Jonica didn’t tell anyone that Audrey was trial-
ling. Then again, Carmen’s an expert at tapping into the club
grapevine—always first to know what’s going on, hanging
round the coaches as if she’s their best friend. There she is now,
under the pine trees in all her dark-haired, pear-shaped glory.
People say she was a soccer star in her time. Hard to believe
when you look at her.
Audrey spots Katerina and casts a pained look at Jonica.
But there’s nothing Jonica can do. Audrey will just have to
deal with it.
One of the boys—Braedon—sneers at Audrey as she walks
out and tacks herself onto the group. ‘Why are there girls
here?’ he demands.
Jonica hopes Dominik will tell the boys to pull their heads
in, that the club includes girls who are good enough to qualify.
But he claps his hands above his head and shouts, ‘Okay, boys.
Time for a warm-up. Four laps of the oval.’

12

Sidelines_TXT.indd 12 10/10/23 2:32 pm

 SIDELIN ES

Jonica’s blood fizzes. She sidles up to join Noah’s dad,

Miles, who is standing nearby. They’ve talked on the sidelines
before. Not that she’s much good at chatting when her kids
are playing—she likes to watch. Miles is nicer than most of
the other parents. Whenever they interact, he seems genuinely
interested—something to do with his eye contact and ready
smile. He’s a single dad, friendly and not too intense about
football . . . unlike some of the other parents in this team.
Viktor’s dad, Santos, for instance.
There’s Viktor now, at the front of the pack, leading the
way, hair tied back in a man bun just like Erling Haaland from
Manchester City.
‘Those poor kids,’ she murmurs to Miles, as the players
stagger past. ‘The coaches should be warming up too. Then
they could see what it’s like. Too hot for running.’
Miles chuckles. ‘I don’t reckon those two have jogged round
an oval in years. Not in any weather.’
She hides a smile. When the kids run by again, red-faced
and pant­ing, she notices that Noah has fallen behind. Even
though he’s not as good as some of the others, he’ll get selected
because he’s been with the team for so long. That’s how it goes.
Today, though, he’s much slower than usual. ‘Is Noah okay?’
she asks.
Miles scratches at his thumb with a fingernail. ‘It’s his knees.
Osgood-Schlatter disease. He’s grown so fast his tendons can’t
keep up with his bones. I had it when I was a kid too.’
Jonica is glad neither of the twins have issues like that.
‘Poor Noah. Anything you can do?’
‘Massage and stretches. The cure for everything at this age.’

13

Sidelines_TXT.indd 13 10/10/23 2:32 pm

 K AREN VIGGERS

‘Look how hot they are,’ she mutters. ‘It’s appalling to

make them run in this weather. I wish Dominik would let
them go home.’
‘He won’t push them too hard,’ Miles says. ‘And, anyway,
kids don’t feel it like we do. They love playing so much nothing
can stop them. Weren’t you addicted to sport as a kid?’
‘I’ve never really been into team sport, other than a bit of
netball at school . . .’ she says. But she feels like a fraud, because
that was years ago, and she wasn’t much good. ‘I play tennis
every week with a few girlfriends, but we get out early, before it
warms up. The rest of the time I’m the family taxi service. It’s
full-on with twins . . . That was a surprise I didn’t sign up for.’
He eyes her with respect. ‘Must’ve been tough when they
were little. One at a time was enough for me.’
Jonica remembers lying on the padded bench for her
ten-week ultrasound. The cold, wet probe on her belly. The
sonographer pausing before telling her she was carrying two
babies.
And didn’t that change her life! Nearly killed her. Six
weeks maternity leave morphed into extra time off because it
was so overwhelming. No sleep. Endless feeding and nappy
changing. Both babies screaming at once. Sometimes she’d
fed them simultaneously: Alex slung under one arm, Audrey
under the other. She wanted to be a good mother, but some-
times it seemed they were eating her alive.
She wipes the sweat from her forehead. When the twins
were small, she’d thought she would go straight back to work.
But when it was time to return, Ben had asked if it was really
necessary. They could afford a nanny, of course, he’d said.

14

Sidelines_TXT.indd 14 10/10/23 2:32 pm

 SIDELIN ES

But didn’t she want to breastfeed them as long as possible, to

give them the best start in life? Maybe she should stay home a
while longer and look after the kids. He couldn’t do it, obvi-
ously, and felt bad about the long hours he worked. But he
would be happy to support her for a few years. Just look at the
poor little things, he’d said, when the twins were asleep and
perfectly angelic. How could she argue? In the end, the guilt
won out.
At first, she hadn’t minded it—her mother had given up
a career for kids, and Ben’s mother had been a stay-at-home
mum too. When the twins were small, it was easy not to think
about what she’d given up because she was eternally exhausted
and consumed by their needs. She immersed herself in their
lives, and before she knew it, they were at school. She helped
where she could, providing support, basking in their smiles
when they won races, smoothing things over when they lost,
applying Band-Aids to scuffed knees.
Recently, though, there’s been a worm turning in her belly.
There’s only so much satisfaction to be had from helping
at athletics and swimming carnivals, covering books for the
school library, driving to soccer training, organising playdates,
parties, family holidays, doctor and physio appointments,
visits to the dentist or hairdresser, cooking meals, helping with
homework.
For the past few months, she’s felt the twins begin to pull
away. And that’s a good thing, because she’s keen to use her
brain again. To be someone other than a mother. The twins
don’t need her so much anymore, and she could go back to
work, except that Ben likes having her home.

15

Sidelines_TXT.indd 15 10/10/23 2:32 pm

 K AREN VIGGERS

She looks at Miles and pastes on a smile. ‘Having twins is

very busy.’
‘Good on you,’ he says. ‘You’re a better person than me.’
Jonica wishes Ben was more like Miles. Ben takes her for
granted, ignores her worries about Audrey and the team, makes
her feel insignificant. She can’t imagine Miles doing that. He
seems too kind. He’s good-looking too. She can’t understand
why his wife left him. Word is she took up with another man.
Jonica wonders if she regrets it.
Out on the field, the kids have finally finished their laps
and now they pull up in front of Dominik. Jonica sees those
crimson sweaty faces and wishes she’d brought Powerade.
Audrey will have a headache tonight and Alex will be grumpy.
When they get home, they’ll slump in front of the TV instead
of doing their homework, and then she’ll worry that their
schoolwork is suffering.
She wonders if now might be the moment to deliver Alex’s
water bottle, but Dominik tells the players to pair up for a
drill. The boys instantly gravitate towards each other, leaving
the girls isolated. Jonica is proud when Audrey steps forward
and invites Katerina to join her. Katerina hesitates, inspecting
Audrey as if she’s being offered a cane toad as a partner, but
there’s no one else to play with so she has to say yes.
The players form parallel lines and start firing balls at each
other. Alex looks loose and relaxed, whereas Audrey is being
careful—maybe too careful. Jonica sees the tension in her
daughter’s thin frame, the frown of concentration on her face,
and can’t bear to watch. She turns to Miles. ‘Have you ever
played soccer?’ she asks.

16

Sidelines_TXT.indd 16 10/10/23 2:32 pm

 SIDELIN ES

‘No. I prefer running.’

He does look fit, she thinks. But she can’t imagine running
for fun, it looks like too much hard work. ‘I never run, except
on a tennis court.’
‘You should try it,’ he says. ‘Works for me. The endorphins
keep me sane. All you need is some good shoes and a Couch
to 5K app to get started.’
On the field, Audrey has loosened up, and she and Katerina
are passing to each other with elegant touches and far more
finesse than most of the boys.
‘Audrey’s a good player,’ Miles says. ‘She moves like a real
athlete.’
It’s true that Audrey has an easy loping gait. She’s strong
too, and fast. She can’t match the boys with their pumped-up
teenage testosterone, but she beats them on skills every time.
Katerina boots the ball to Audrey. It flies up into her face
and she drops to the ground, covering her nose with her hands.
Get up, Jonica thinks, clutching Alex’s water bottle. The
coaches might see you.
Audrey stands slowly then trots after the ball.
‘Good on you,’ Jonica murmurs. ‘Good on you, sweetheart.’
Next, Dominik hands out coloured bibs and divides the
players into two teams. Audrey and Alex are together, which
is good—hopefully Alex will pass to his sister.
The kids spread out across the field. When Dominik gives
the signal to start, Alex races forward with the ball, looking
for Audrey, but she’s too wide, so he passes to Katerina.
Katerina takes off, head-down, dribbling. The coaches nod
like bobble-head toys. So that’s how it’s going to be, Jonica

17

Sidelines_TXT.indd 17 10/10/23 2:32 pm

 K AREN VIGGERS

thinks, swiping her hair from her hot neck. Showing off and
ball-hogging will be rewarded, even though it’s the opposite of
what’s required in a game.
Eventually Katerina passes to Braedon, and Audrey dashes
along the line, calling. But Braedon won’t pass. And neither
will any of the other boys. Finally, Alex kicks a pass to her. She
controls the ball beautifully and passes back, her face alight
with a smile. Jonica smiles too. Surely the coaches will notice
her daughter now. But they’re looking the other way.
Audrey’s smile fades. And so does Jonica’s. She tugs her
dress away from her body because, somehow, the fabric has
turned into cling wrap.
‘Are you okay?’ Miles asks.
‘I can’t bear the heat,’ she says. In truth, she’s aching at the
disheartened look on Audrey’s face. The disappointed kink of
her mouth. The discouraged slump of her shoulders.
‘Maybe you need a cool drink,’ Miles suggests.
‘Yes, I think I’ll go and sit in the car for a while with the
air conditioner.’
She heads for the car park.
When she gets to the car, she realises she’s still holding
Alex’s water bottle. She can’t go back now. Not with the tight
feeling that’s lodged itself in her throat.
She’ll go to the shops and buy Powerade.

After dishing up lasagne and salad for the twins’ dinner,

Jonica leans against the kitchen bench. It’s a relief to be
away from the heat. Outside, through the sliding doors,

18

Sidelines_TXT.indd 18 10/10/23 2:32 pm