Losing the crucial match against Manchester United left the players' spirits in the dressing room very low. On a day like Christmas, no one seemed able to cheer up. As Aldrich walked into the locker room post-match, he clapped his hands and said, "Guys, forget about the game. Take a shower, change your clothes, and then we'll catch a flight back home. Let's spend a joyful New Year with our families. Don't let this loss affect your home life. Just for today, we can treat football as a job, go home, forget about work, and spend quality time with our families and kids – be a good father, husband, or child."
Hearing Aldrich's words, the players began to lift their spirits.
Life must go on, especially during festive times like the New Year. They should prioritize family, which is understandable. Aldrich wasn't the type of coach to be harsh; there was no need to criticize the players more today. The away defeat to Manchester United was not unexpected, as Manchester United were also favorites for the title and there were many factors that led to their defeat. He can't put all the blame on the players and increase the pressure on them.
While Aldrich chatted with Ferguson, the Millwall players had showered and changed their clothes in the locker room. The team then boarded a bus to the airport. Since it was a special day, they had chartered a plane to save time on the return trip.
Less than an hour later, the plane landed at London Airport. Aldrich directly announced the dissolution of the team at the airport, while also distributing the Christmas gifts prepared by the club to the players.
Aldrich returned to his parents' house to celebrate the holiday. The atmosphere was lively; besides his second brother Andrew, his eldest brother Barnett came with his wife and kids, as well as the single mother Rowling and her daughter, who lived in London.
A lavish dinner was prepared, and everyone was waiting for Aldrich.
"How are you feeling?"
Rowling asked gently from the sofa, a warm smile on her face.
Aldrich was taken aback and replied, "Of course, I feel great! Why do you ask?"
Rowling pointed at the television, which was still airing a commentary show on the English Premier League.
Aldrich let out a wry smile and said, "Well, to be honest, it doesn't really bother me. If I had lost the match a month ago or a month later, I doubt anyone would have cared how I felt. Football has its ups and downs; that's the way it is. Sometimes, it's just a matter of bad luck, nothing to dwell on. But today, I've been trying hard to forget the match, yet seeing the players' disappointed faces makes me feel like I've ruined their Christmas, and that weighs on me."
"Your job is really tough. Your father said there's a game in three days; you don't even get a break! I think if you're feeling this way, you should take a moment to relax, but it seems you don't have that luxury."
Aldrich chuckled softly and nodded, "It's true; there's no time. The pressure of being a football manager is really beyond what most people think. My plan is to retire at 50; otherwise, my heart might not handle it. By the way, where's Jessica?"
Rowling glanced toward the back garden and said, "She's playing with your nephew outside. The two little ones are around the same age. Bowan is such a polite child and easily makes friends with others his age. Jessica rarely gets to know kids like him, and I'm really glad."
Aldrich shook his head and said softly, "Honestly, I've always believed my brother and sister-in-law's parenting style is wrong. They suppress the children's natural instincts too much. Bowan is only four but comes off as incredibly serious. He never says the wrong thing or acts spoiled. I just don't know what they want to turn him into."
Rowling tucked a lock of her golden hair behind her ear and smiled, "You might understand them better when you have kids of your own."
"Dinner is ready!"
Aldrich's mother, Amelia, called from the dining room, embodying a typical homemaker. Even after being well-off for years, she still couldn't learn the ways of high society, unlike Aldrich's sister-in-law. Currently, Aldrich hardly spoke to his sister-in-law outside of formal greetings.
He felt she had become a bit pretentious, as if she were deliberately trying to portray the image of a high-society lady, but such charm is hard to cultivate. Thus, Barnett would always seem to carry the "new money" label.
"Son, come here, sit next to me."
Arthur beckoned Aldrich to sit beside him, his expression not looking too good. In the Hall family, they didn't have a strict seating arrangement, so Aldrich took his place next to his father.
Arthur began to ramble on, reminiscing about the Millwall versus Manchester United match.
This made Aldrich both amused and exasperated, especially as Arthur proposed some outlandish theories.
For instance, was Beckham's footwear and the match ball Manchester United's secret weapon?
Since Beckham rose to fame, he has been the focal point of English football. His news always garners attention, and one interesting tidbit was that he never wore the same boots for consecutive matches.
As for Zambrotta slipping and getting injured, Arthur was convinced it was a deliberate act by Manchester United!
To ensure Beckham performed better on that side of the pitch, they'd soaked the ground with water!
Aldrich and the others laughed heartily.
This was hilarious!
If that were the case, then Erwin slipped in the second half—was that also a Manchester United conspiracy? To seriously injure their own key player?
After a delightful dinner, Arthur dashed upstairs and came down with a pile of gift boxes, acting like an elder giving out Christmas presents to the younger ones, including Rowling . Though she was only a few years older than Barnett, Arthur treated her as a younger generation.
Rowling brought a Harry Potter novel for Bowan and gave out some more regular gifts to others, while Aldrich received a tie.
Barnett was generous; he had prepared a bunch of expensive items to give away, choosing a Cartier necklace for Rowling , and for the other two brothers, he gifted them impressive suburban mansions in London.
Andrew and Aldrich accepted the presents happily, but Aldrich wasn't interested in enjoying the multimillion-pound mansions. They seemed too troublesome and too far from the training facility. He preferred living in his small apartment.
As night fell, Aldrich drove Rowling and her daughter home. Jessica and Bowan had played all night and were exhausted, already asleep in the backseat. Aldrich made a point to drive slowly, avoiding sharp turns that might wake them.
"I'm sorry for inviting you over unexpectedly. I didn't know if that would put you in an awkward position since you're not familiar with my family," he said.
"I actually liked it. At least I know you and Andrew. I've always wondered what the Hall family, known as London's nouveau riche, would be like, scared I might run into some arrogant folks. But Arthur and Amelia made me feel warm. The Hall family is just an ordinary big family—just richer than most, but money hasn't changed you."
In past years, Rowling spent Christmas at her sister's place, and while she was with family, she felt like an unwelcome guest. This year was different; visiting the Hall family as a guest was enjoyable, especially since Jessica made a new friend in Bowan.
Rowling enjoyed a flexible work schedule, so she invited Aldrich to join her book club whenever he had the time. She had established a social circle in London of literary folks who would regularly share thoughts and recommendations. Aldrich agreed; reading was a great way to pass the time, and talking with someone knowledgeable about books was definitely a bonus.
While driving back to his apartment, Melanie called from the US. The Spice Girls had achieved great success in North America and were planning a global tour right after New Year. It seemed that Aldrich would be seeing less of his girlfriend in the coming year, as the concert schedule was overwhelming—dozens of performances lined up throughout the year.
After returning home, taking a shower, and preparing for sleep, Aldrich found himself involuntarily thinking about the upcoming Premier League match in three days.
Millwall would be visiting Highbury to face Arsenal.
Lost in thought, he fell asleep, but was awakened by a phone call—a ring disturbing the early hours, just before 5 a.m.
Grabbing the phone, he recognized Yvonne's serious voice.
"I'm at your doorstep. Open up, something happened."
Aldrich jolted up, wearing pajamas with no time to consider his appearance, and rushed downstairs to open the door. Yvonne stood there, bundled in a warm coat.
What could have happened before dawn?
Once inside, Yvonne spoke bluntly, her expression serious: "In three hours, the headlines of every paper on Fleet Street for New Year's Day will read: 'Millwall Christmas Party!'"
Aldrich gripped the sofa, his expression full of disbelief, shock, and anger, then turned suspicious.
"Where did you hear this?"
"I handle club promotions, and I've made quite a few connections. Someone informed me about this half an hour ago; it's not something you can cover up."
Aldrich turned away, bracing himself against the sofa, and asked in a deep voice, "What exactly happened?"
"About 11 p.m. last night, a reporter spotted several Millwall players entering a nightclub and blended in to gather information. They managed to snap quite a few photos, capturing that aside from Millwall players, other men were likely their friends, and all the women present were prostitutes—over 30 of them!"
Aldrich clenched the sofa tightly, keeping his voice calm and steady, "Who was there?"
"I've seen some photos, and I can confirm names of those I recognized: Rio Ferdinand, Frank Lampard, Daniel Mills, Richard Wright, Ashley Cole, Paul Robinson, Joe Cole, and David Dunn. However, I haven't seen all the photos—there are supposed to be others like Vassell and Jeffers. I can't say for certain how many stayed the whole time or left early; I don't have that information."
Aldrich repeated each name Yvonne mentioned, his head hanging lower as he forced out a bitter smile.
"So, it's all fucking English players? That means aside from Parker, Carrick, and King, every eligible England player was out having fun? Oh, that's just great! I've been walking on eggshells worried I might ruin someone's reputation while they're out partying like nothing happened. Ha! Over 30 women—do they have that kind of money?"
Yvonne stepped a bit closer, softly saying, "It's said the prostitutes charge several hundred pounds each. The total expense for a single night was close to £200,000. Didn't you know?"
Aldrich smirked coldly, "Why would I know that? If I were to throw a party, I wouldn't settle for a bunch of women who think a few hundred pounds mean anything. If I'm going to play, I'd want the best!"
Yvonne turned her face away, letting out a huff.
Taking a deep breath, Aldrich straightened up and apologized, "Sorry, that was just out of anger."
"They're the ones who should be ashamed; you don't need to take it on yourself."
"It's exactly because they don't have any self-respect that I'm even angrier!"