Chapter Text
“Darkness falls across the land
The midnight hour is close at hand
Creatures crawl in search of blood
To terrorize y’all’s neighborhood”
“I’m blatantly going to win this thing, so there’s no point in any of you twats even trying ”.
Jamie preens in front of everyone – he’s wearing a blond mullet wig and a flashy gold suit (bare-chested, of course) and has two enormous, electric blue wings attached to his back with some sort of elaborate harness, which meant he’d barely been able to get through the door.
“And yet somehow not one of us has any idea what your outfit represents”, says Jan Maas, who’s dressed as an enormous hot dog, “however intricate it might be”.
“Fook off, Jan Maas – I spent ages puttin’ this together. One of you stupid pricks must know who I’m meant to be. This was me mam’s favourite gig”.
It’s October 31st and the whole of AFC Richmond and their assorted associates are milling around Roy and Keeley’s house, imbibing questionable drinks and consuming even more questionable snacks. Ted has spent so long waxing lyrical about how much spooky fun is had at this time of year that Keeley has managed to bully Roy into opening up their home and letting her cover it in more skeletons, cobwebs and pumpkins than you can shake a stick at.
She’d also made him take his niece trick or treating earlier that evening – as they’d knocked at each door, Roy’s trademark growl meant that Phoebe Red Riding Hood had accumulated a hefty haul, even from houses that hadn’t been expecting any visitors. Her little basket contains just as many pound coins as packets of Haribo, and a ten-pound note from one man who had whimpered that he didn’t have any change. She’s staying with Roy and Keeley tonight and is currently attempting to bob for apples with Will.
“I know who he’s meant to be” says Beard, hands on lapels in a startlingly authentic Abe Lincoln costume. “David Bowie, 1987, Glass Spider tour”.
“Yes! Thank you, Coach!” hisses Jamie, with a fist-pump, spilling the drink in his other hand.
“How the fuck were we meant to know that, man?” says Isaac. “Most of us weren’t even born then”.
“Because! He’s David Boweh! And you can fookin’ talk – you’re dressed as fookin’ Prince! Anyways, it’s nice to know at least one of you‘s not a complete spaz”.
“Now, now, Jamie”, reproaches Ted, dressed as Gomez Addams and twirling a cigar. “You know we don’t use that kinda language any more”.
“Sorry Coach, I’m just a bit hyped up right now because I am blatantly going to win”.
The prize that Jamie thinks he already has in the bag is for Best Halloween Costume and comprises a slap-up meal for two at Nusr-Et London a.k.a. Restaurant Salt Bae. It’s not as if any of the players can’t actually afford a £600 steak smothered in gold leaf themselves, but Keeley and Rebecca have offered it up on a whim and it’s now a matter of pride.
Talking of Rebecca, despite the party being in full swing, she has yet to arrive, and Ted finds that he keeps glancing at the front door, instead of listening to Colin, who’s dressed as Hannibal Lecter (“as played by Anthony Hopkins!”) and is patiently explaining through his mask why devolution isn’t the answer for Wales.
Rebecca has been on Ted’s mind a lot these days. She’s seemed different since he came back from his summer break in Kansas. He can’t work out if she’s distracted, withdrawn or just pissed at him, but some kind of barrier has definitely sprung up between them.
Not like a brick wall, but more like one of those frosted glass dividers that you sometimes get in a shower stall. She’s still there and he can still see her, but nowhere near as clearly as before. And now he’s thinking about Rebecca and showers which seems like an extremely dangerous combination, so instead he ruminates on the fact that they still do Biscuits with the Boss most mornings, but she doesn’t attack them with the same gusto that she used to. Sometimes, she won’t even open the box at all, and just pushes it aside in favour of talking shop instead. He’s not gonna lie – he feels a little like he’s in mourning.
“Oi, Ted, look lively!” yells Keeley from behind him.
Unfamiliar with this phrase, Ted is confused, and he’s even more confused when a jumbo bag of Minstrels suddenly thwacks him in the head.
“Oh shit, sorry babes” winces Keeley. “I was trying to chuck that to O’Brien, but your massive head was in the way – I did warn you though!”
“I’m ok, thanks Keeley”, says Ted, rubbing the bump that is already beginning to form as she squints at him with concern, “but you pack an awfully mighty punch for such a tiny thing. And I swear to God I seem to injure this here noggin so often I should prolly start wearing a football helmet.”
“Oh Ted, don’t be daft!” laughs Keeley , “there’s no such thing as a football helmet, you muppet!” and she blithely skips off.
“Well, no, there isn’t in soccer”, mutters Ted to himself, still ruefully rubbing his head.
Colin has wandered off in search of some Chianti, which means Ted is left to wallow a little longer.
He honestly can’t remember the last time he and Rebecca have had a proper conversation. While he was away in Kansas, they had texted some – random bits of news about the boys and Higgins from her, and updates on Henry and the latest barbecue trends from him. He’d pondered if he should FaceTime her at some point, but then figured that he’d just screw up the time zones and try and call her at 2am. And it felt way too odd and formal to ask if he could schedule a video call, so he’d contented himself with the occasional message, even though he would much rather have heard her voice and seen her face. And then he returned to Richmond and, well, it had been weird between them ever since.
“Oi, Ted?! Are you fucking listening to me or what? I’ve been telling you for the last five minutes that Rebecca’s finally arrived, and Keeley’s been dying to play some stupid fucking party game she’s organised, so get the fuck up off that sofa and let’s do this, shall we?”
Ted looks in the direction that Roy’s pointing in and he audibly gulps. At the far end of the room stands an angel - or, more accurately, an ice queen. Rebecca is a vision in her Elsa costume - she seems to be literally glowing. She’s also chatting happily to Sam which is, you know, great and fine, so he decides that it’s probably best if he doesn’t try to bother them.
Rebecca seems to sense Ted’s eyes on her though, since she looks up and gives him a small salute. He salutes back with his cigar and is about to walk over, when Keeley clambers up on top of an armchair and shouts as ominously as she can, “Mwu-hahaha! It is time!”
The lights dim, and a huge clatter of thunder and lightning emits from the speakers on the walls, making Beard and Phoebe jump. Eerie music plays as Bumbercatch slowly wheels in a hostess trolley covered with a cloth.
“Tonight, my friends and loved ones, the veil between the worlds of the living and the dead is at its thinnest”, intones Keeley, holding a torch up to her mouth. “So tonight, my friends and loved ones, we are going to - dun, dun, dun - communicate with the dead!”
And she whips off the cloth to reveal several church candles, some incense sticks, and an enormous Ouija board.
"Dios mio!” cries Dani Rojas and he makes the sign of the Cross, “you do not know what you are meddling with!” (The fact that he’s dressed for Día de los Muertos and wholeheartedly believes in this stuff only serves to make his warning seem even more dire).
“This will just be a waste of time,” says Jan Maas, “as there is zero evidence that there is life after death or that the paranormal even exists”.
The rest of the guests, a few of whom happen to be fairly superstitious, are murmuring as to whether this is really a good idea or not, when Rebecca pipes up, “You know, I don’t really believe in ghosts either, but why ever the fuck shouldn’t we do this? We’re among friends, it’s Halloween, and it’s at least bound to be more entertaining than watching O’Brien chug shots for the rest of the night”.
The room is silent, until Ted clears his throat.
“Y’all heard the Boss now”, he says, “come on and let’s give it a whirl. And I’ll tell you this for free - for once, it don’t even matter if you believe or not!”
He adds, under his breath, “(though for what it’s worth, I do believe)”.
“Woohoo - thank you, Ted!” yelps Keeley.
With a mischievous grin, she lights the candles one by one. Montlaur, who has come as a French movie star that no one has ever heard of, turns to Sam, dressed as Harry Potter, and nudges him in the ribs. He whispers loudly, “Ehhh, so this explains why Keeley is dressed like the sorceress in ‘Aunted Mansion, non?”
“Oh, shut up, Richard”, snaps Keeley. “Anyway, some decorum please. I ask all of you who are gathered here tonight to clear your minds and close your eyes”.
She carefully sets the candles on the mantelpiece behind her and starts wafting the incense sticks around.
“The spirits of the Otherworld are looking over us and tonight they will guide us to the ultimate truth. Now - Rebecca, Ted, Beard, Sam, Roy, Jamie, Higgins, Dani, please come place your right hands on top of the pointer thingy”.
“Euhhh, I believe it is called a planchette”, Montlaur corrects smugly.
“And I thought I told you to shut your face. Right, the rest of you, come up here and join me now,” Keeley beckons impatiently.
Dani blanches. “Oh, no, no, Keeley! ¡Ni hablar! You can count me out of this madness!”
“Okay, fine, you big wuss. Isaac, come do the honours please”. The AFC Richmond Captain struts up to her and the other folk she’s summoned gather round the Ouija board and do as they’re told.
“This is bollocks, y’know”, growls Roy.
“Shush, you”, snaps Keeley, “play nicely if you want your treat later”.
In the pile of communal body parts, Ted notes that Sam’s hand is directly on top of Rebecca’s, and he isn’t sure how he feels about that, but before he can begin to unpack this, the planchette starts to move under their hands.
“I have to say, I did not expect this evening to turn out so thrilling and mystical”, says Sam, with a huge grin on his face, as the planchette stops at its first letter:
“J”.
It keeps moving.
‘A’, ‘M’, ‘I’, ‘E’
It stops.
“J.A.M.I.E. - it says Jamie!” yelps Higgins.
“Yes, thank you, Leslie, we can all read,” sighs Rebecca.
The planchette starts moving again.
‘I’, ‘S’, ‘A’
“Ah man, is it gonna spell my name now?” says Isaac. “Ah shit, I really don’t like this - what’s it gonna say?”
It stops.
“Phew, it looks like it ain't talkin’ ‘bout you after all, Isaac”, whistles Ted. “I.S.A.? Isa? Or maybe ‘Is A’?”
It starts moving again.
‘B’, ‘E’, ‘L’, ‘L’
“Jamie is a bell?” mouths Beard, perplexed.
‘E’, ‘N’, ‘D’.
The planchette stops, for good this time.
“Bellend!” says Higgins with relief. “Oh, hang on - it said Jamie is a bellend”.
Roy is fully smirking at this point.
“Oi, you fookin' cock - this was you, wasn’t it, Kent?” howls Jamie. “ You were fookin' moving the thing! That’s not fookin' funny!”
“Really? ‘Cos I thought it was fucking hilarious”, grins Roy.
“ROY! I asked you to take this seriously! Do you want to sleep on the sofa tonight?” pouts Keeley. “Right, Zoreaux, you come and swap places with my prick of a boyfriend!”
Zoreaux dutifully subs in (as usual).
This time around, Keeley takes each of their right hands and places them onto the planchette herself, and Ted is very conscious that his hand has been placed firmly on top of Rebecca’s.
He’s struck by a sudden urge to stroke the side of her hand with his thumb, but before he can act on this impulse, the planchette starts to move again.
“Spirits, spirits, give us a sign! Tell us our future and make it divine!” chants Keeley.
The planchette wavers back and forth for a few seconds, before moving onward, forward.
‘L’, ‘I’, ‘G’
(“LIG? What’s Lig?” says Isaac)
‘H’, ‘T’,
(“Light. It says light”, says Sam)
‘N’, ‘I’, ‘N’, ‘G’.
The planchette then spins and flies off the board. It is done.
Rebecca purses her lips. She looks up at Keeley who is smiling ever so slightly and then over at Roy who is stony-faced.
Then she looks right at Sam who is beaming at her. She sees the fake scar on his forehead and she shakes her head a little, but not enough for him to see.
Lastly, she looks at Ted, who seems bewildered, but whose hand feels warm on top of hers.
“Lightning. It says lightning,” Rebecca says quietly.
Suddenly, another thunderclap blasts from the wall speakers - surprised, Higgins flips the Ouija board so hard it clatters violently to the ground, Jamie tries to jump into Beard’s arms and someone in the assembled crowd even shrieks.
“Right, you twats, the party's over!” Roy barks at everyone. “Phoebe should have been in bed fucking hours ago. Get your things and fuck off the lot of you!”
“Eh, what the fook? But we haven’t even announced who’s won the prize for Best Halloween Costume yet?!” whines Jamie.
“You won, Jamie, okay? Like you thought you would. Like everyone thought you would,” bellows Roy, steering Jamie towards the door by his massive wings. “You can collect your prize tomorrow, but I don’t want to see your stupid face until then. Or the rest of you. Now get the fuck out of my house”.
The party guests finally take the hint and, muttering amongst themselves, they gather their belongings and begin to disperse into the night.
⚡️⚡️⚡️
Beard has slipped off to join Jane for an all-night Halloween rave, so Ted finds himself standing alone in Roy and Keeley’s driveway, hands stuffed in his pockets, lost in his thoughts.
He sighs and gets his phone out to call a cab when he sees Rebecca getting into her car. Finding some courage from somewhere, he calls out after her.
“Hey Boss!”
Rebecca stops and turns. “Yes, Ted?”
He hesitates. It’s the first time since he’d come back from Kansas that she’s called him that instead of ‘Coach Lasso’, not that he’d been keeping score or anything.
“Rebecca”, he says. “I have no idea what the heck that was all about - our spooky shindigs tend more towards wrapping people in toilet paper, but I guess you ... well … What does ‘lightning’ mean? Is there - is there something you’re not telling me? Oklahoma!”
Rebecca’s face is unreadable and she doesn’t say anything at first.
Then she says, “Ted, you like fireworks, don’t you?” This isn’t a confession, but neither is it a lie.
Ted furrows his brow in consternation. But then he schools his features and he smiles and he says to her, “Why, of course I do, Boss. Nothing says America more than the 4th of July. And nothing says the 4th of July more than fireworks”.
“And are you free next Sunday evening?”
“Well, Coach Beard and I have long-standing plans to -”
“Cancel them,” she says. “You’re coming to Bonfire Night with me”.
“Yes, ma’am, I will do that”, says Ted, vigorously nodding his head.
“Good,” says Rebecca. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Ted”.
And she shuts her door and she drives off into the night.