The ladies' football team had been formed for five years, created under the tutelage of a local entrepreneur who still sponsored their kit they had thrived. What started as an excuse to run about and kick each other followed by a booze-up had slowly and surely progressed to a finely tuned outfit.
The catalyst for the change was the coach Cara Thorne, she had played football at a professional level until injury ended her career but she had instilled discipline into the girls. Her appearance had not changed much from the tall rough center half she had once been and no one was stupid enough to argue back to her.
They had moved through the leagues, each promotion a gain in confidence and increased commitment in Cara's philosophy. Not only did they have to beat the other female teams, but they must also prove they were equal or better than the men. In the early years, many of the players had come in crying from comments thrown at them by the male supporters and Cara never let them forget the words, using them to drive the girls forward.
The men's team still only gave them grudging respect, even though the women were higher placed in their equivalent leagues. While the men's team struggled with sponsorship and new kits, the girls strode out each season in sparkling new attire. This brought about the change of name to separate them from the men, Domina FC.
This year's kit was their brightest yet, a luminous pink with the large letters MD front and center of their sponsor. No one was going to miss them and that was the point and creed of the team, women in your face. No one would forget the Dominas.
The team lineup consisted of Goalkeeper and regular head case Sam White behind the strong physical defense of Amy Broad, Lucy White, and the central partnership on and off the field of Katy Robinson and Kathy McGeady. The midfield was powered by Cassie Peters and Jane Griffiths assisted by the wing work of Angela Stone and Nadia Bailey. The strike force was the emerging newcomer Emily Jones ably tutored by Karina Rodgers, any opposition who took advantage of Emily's naivety was quickly taught a lesson by Karina. Off the bench, the most regular substitute was Rhiannon Fahey, a fireball of a player but too much of a liability for a full game. She was the epitome of a fiery redhead.
The team's strength was their unity, working together rather than individual brilliance. That's not to say some didn't stand out. Cassie Peters the team captain was a bundle of positive energy, she was everything she didn't look like. A small blonde midfielder who the opposition always underestimated to their downfall. Angela Stone was a black goddess on the pitch, a winger they could not stop, as skillful as she was strong driving the team to impossible victories, and recent recruit Emily Jones was growing by the game. The little shy posh girl was blossoming into a foul-mouthed goal-scoring heroine.
Tonight's match had been a hard-fought victory pinched with some quick thinking from Emily that had kept them comfortably on top of the league. The celebration in the locker room would have made many a man blush, none of the girls felt self-conscious in front of their teammates. Even Emily who was shy at first was more than happy hugging naked and being slapped on the bottom. The foul-mouthed post-match team talk delivered stark naked would have turned any air blue.
Cara waved the girls off, hoping they'd get a good night's sleep but knowing they were aiming for the pub. She tidied up the dirty kits into the baskets and picked up all the balls for another day. One last look around and she flicked off the lights to lock up. She stopped, a small red light flickered in the ceiling and she pushed up a tile to investigate. When she found a small camera aimed down at the changing room she froze in disgust but knew instinctively whom to call.
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The following day Carl Banks the coach of the men's team called for a team meeting after work, waited for the room to fill, and took a deep breath. "Right I'm glad you're all here cause this is fucking important." The team stopped chatting and leaned towards the coach, "I've been made aware that someone in this room has set up a camera to spy on the lady's team." The last comment brought an uproar of cheers to the lads and questions of where to watch it.
"Shut it," Carl shouted red-faced. "This is not a fucking joke, this will go to the police if we don't snip it in the bud right now," the room had regained its silence and the smiles had dropped. "I want the culprits to make themselves known to me and together we will try to smooth it with the lady's team coach."He threw a bottle against the wall to emphasize his anger, "I need the names by tomorrow or the police will be called on all of you."
As the lads piled away in their cars grumbling over the injustice the team captain Brian Ellis pulled the coach aside, "Look how serious is this really."
The coach stared him dead in the eye, "I've already had a detective on the phone, if the ladies press charges you're all fucked, they've given us a lifeline here so please get the names."
Brian flushed red with embarrassment, "Me, Barry, and Steve." Barely looking the coach in the eye he continued, "it was just a joke, bring them down a peg or two." Shifting uncomfortably, "It was Barry's idea, we roped Steve in for the technical side."
Carl could barely conceal his fury, "I don't fucking care about why, just the three of you be here at four tomorrow. Don't you dare be missing, any of you." "Fucking pricks," he shouted as he slammed his car door and drove off in a storm of expletives.
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Detective Karen Watts had been a serving policewoman for over twenty years and worked it by the book from day one but for a friend, she could be persuaded to bend the rules. The phone call she received was from a very good friend, who had helped Karen in the past and whom she felt an obligation to assist.
She drove out to the local community football pitches accompanied by a WPC Debbie Atkins, a very accomplished copper who had proven her worth in the past. On a case like this, she wanted a good trusted female with her, and Atkins had assisted her favorably on similar cases.
The tall impressive figure stood sternly before them, "My name is Detective Karen Watts and according to your coach you three have come forward as the culprits in this crime." "Am I correct in this assumption?"
The three men shifted uncomfortably before her and mumbled their reply from bowed heads.
"Louder, I cannot hear you, " her voice grew angrier and louder.
The three sprung upright and collectively answered "Yes."
"And have you brought any of the evidence to hand over,' Karen reached out her open palm.
Nervously Steve edged forwards, "It's on my laptop, the cam sent it to me."
She abruptly snatched it from his hands, "anything else, hard drives, etc."
Steve shook his head, "Never had the time." Then wished he hadn't spoken.
