Prologue

Sunday, 14 February 1999

Winlaton, Tyne and Wear

Stephanie White had been begging and pleading with her parents for months to buy her a pair of rollerblades for her birthday, and now she finally had them on, she realised she had no idea how to stay upright.

As she rolled carefully down the cul-de-sac where she lived, she could hear from the doorstep the faint sound of her parents stifling giggles. At the bottom of the road, she grabbed hold of a lamp-post, clung to it for dear life, turned back and waved at them with a huge grin on her face to show how pleased she was with the gift. They waved back.

Biting her lip and trying not to show how much pain her ankles were in, she pushed off from the lamp-post and headed for the shops. Her plan was to sit on a bench for half an hour or so before heading back home and saying how brilliant she was at rollerblading and how they were the best present ever.

Stephanie was thirteen years old today. Along with the rollerblades, her parents had surprised her with a Newcastle United home football shirt which had been signed on the shoulder by her favourite player – Alan Shearer. When she had unwrapped it, she burst into tears and threw herself into her father's arms. The surprises hadn't been over though, and she opened an envelope to find two tickets to the next home game with VIP treatment. This really was the best birthday.

It was a cold and misty February day, but Stephanie had refused to wear a coat as she left the house. She wanted the whole world to see she was wearing a brand-new home football shirt, signed by the living god, Alan Shearer.

There were very few people around, which Stephanie was secretly pleased about, now she realised how terrible she was at skating. The last thing she wanted was to be laughed at, and if her mother found out how unsteady she was, she'd be in for a lecture beginning with the dreaded line ‘I told you so.'

She struggled along Church Street, holding onto every lamp-post she passed to keep herself stable. She managed to get across the road without any problems and came to rest at the railings outside the Co-op. She looked at her reflection staring back at her through the window. Her blonde hair, tied back in a ponytail, had come loose, and strands were sticking to her head. Her face was red, and sweat was dripping down her face. She wanted to call on Terry and show him the blades, but not when she looked like this.

Stephanie struggled on down the alley beside the Co-op and almost collided with a man.

‘I'm so sorry.'

‘That's all right,' he said, holding her up by the elbows. ‘Are you okay?'

‘Yes. I think so.'

‘You were coming down there at quite a speed.'

‘I know. Sorry. I can't get used to these rollerblades.'

‘Practice makes perfect.'

‘That's what my mum always says. She's a teacher.'

‘She should know then.' He laughed. ‘Are you sure you're all right? You look like you're in a bit of pain.'

‘They're pinching my ankles. I think they might be a bit tight.'

‘You should take them off. They might have broken the skin. My mum always puts Vaseline in new shoes to help loosen them up.'

‘I'll see if Mum's got some. Thanks.'

Stephanie became aware the man was still holding her by the elbows, and she felt uncomfortable. He was very close to her, and she could feel his warm breath on her face as he spoke.

‘Is that the new Newcastle home shirt?'

‘Yes.' She smiled awkwardly. ‘I got it this morning. My dad bought it for me as a birthday present. Alan Shearer signed it,' she said, showing him the signature.

‘Wow. That's pretty cool. I'm a massive football fan.'

‘Me too. We've got VIP tickets for the next home game too.'

‘You're very lucky.'

A car drove past. Stephanie looked up and saw a young girl watching her from the back seat.

‘I've got a programme signed by Alan Shearer,' the man said.

‘Have you?'

‘Yes. And Shay Given too. Would you like it?'

‘Don't you want it?' She frowned.

He slowly looked her up and down. ‘I think you're a bigger fan than I am. You should have it. Call it a birthday gift from me.'

‘That's very kind of you, but Mum and Dad have always told me not to accept anything from strangers.'

‘Very wise. Look, see that white van over there?' He pointed to a dirty white van parked in front of the hairdresser's a few car lengths away. ‘That's mine. The programme is in there. I can give it to you now, and you can be on your way home.'

Stephanie hesitated.

‘It'll probably end up getting torn and ruined and thrown in the bin, which is a shame when you think about it.' He smiled at her. ‘It'll only take a couple of minutes. I've also got some cushioned plasters that might help your ankles as well.' He headed off towards the van. He stopped after a few steps and turned back. ‘Are you coming?'

Stephanie frowned as she considered what to do. She really shouldn't, but a programme signed by Alan Shearer and Shay Given would be immense. Her father would love it.

‘Okay,' she said and followed him.