"We all follow the Chelsea, over land and sea..."
"Some people think that football is a matter of life and death. I assure you, it's much more important than that." - Bill Shankly
Summer, 2006
"The train on Platform 1 is the 20:57 Caledonian Sleeper service to Inverness, Aberdeen and Fort William. This train is now boarding.”
"Come on Dinky, that's us," I said, getting up from my seat in the first class lounge and picking up my rucksack, the purple-grey unicorn filly trotting beside me. The two of us made our way across the concourse of London Euston station and down to the platform where the long train was waiting, its sixteen carriages filling the extended platform.
"Where's our cabin?" Dinky asked, as we walked along the platform.
"All the way at the front, I'm afraid," I answered, "We're in the Fort William portion. You see, the eight coaches we've just walked past are for Inverness, the next six are for Aberdeen, and the front two go to Fort William, with the train dividing at Edinburgh.”
We checked in with the sleeping car attendant and settled into our cabin, before making our way to the lounge car as the train began its long journey north.
It had been over a month and a half since the Equestrian filly had been given to me by the unsmiling Foal Protection Services official. It wasn't my first encounter with an Equestrian, however; a statue of their ruler, Princess Celestia, who had been a close friend of Winston Churchill, stood in Hyde Park, my Year 10 class at school had visited the embassy, my family had hosted an exchange student from there around nine years ago, and a cyan pegasus with a rainbow mane held a season ticket in the Matthew Harding Lower at Stamford Bridge, the home of my beloved Chelsea Football Club. However, I still couldn't, for the life of me, figure out how their social services had come to the conclusion that I was a suitable foster parent for her, especially when I had never even applied to be a foster parent. It certainly didn't cast them in a good light.
Eventually, she had grown used to living in my apartment, which overlooked Chelsea Harbour and the Thames. As the school year and World Cup were over (with England - as usual - going out on penalties and Zinedine Zidane making the final memorable for all the wrong reasons) I was taking her on holiday to clear her mind. Scotland had been chosen long in advance and, as an added bonus, Chelsea would be finishing their preseason games there, against Motherwell and Galatasaray, and I had decided to take her to both games to show her what it was like before the season started; I had, after all, shelled out the money to buy her a season ticket to go with my own, even managing to stay in the Matthew Harding Lower whilst I was at it.
The biggest shock to Dinky had been the shift in culture, but fortunately, the Equestrian Embassy in London had been able to provide what the embassy official had termed “the essentials”. Equestrian schools taught their pupils that humans ate meat in the first lessons of Primary (a major international incident had erupted between Equestria and France about a week after first contact in 1926 over certain aspects of French cuisine) but nothing had prepared her for when I'd told her about haggis. She enjoyed the Macaroni Cheese enough, though.
“Anyway, we're in the Fort William portion because of these,” I said, producing two tickets for the Jacobite steam train. “We aren't going to Scotland just to watch football. We might as well see the scenery it has to offer as well, and it has some spectacular scenery.”
"How are you coping, Ms Hooves?"
Derpy looked up from her cup of tea at the smiling, sympathetic face of Lyra Heartstrings. She'd made a vow to herself that she would become a better mother and be reunited with Dinky, but she still didn't know what she'd done wrong.
"Okay, I suppose," she replied, "I mean, it's painful, but Dinky wouldn't want me to be consumed by depression."
"Glad to hear it." said Lyra. Then, she looked around, as if searching for eavesdroppers, and continued, "To tell you the truth, almost all of Equestria is behind you. Many of my colleagues can’t stand Belladonna, and the only reason that there haven’t been mass resignations is that she’d fill the posts with yes-ponies. I hear Twilight is going to her tomorrow with a plea on your behalf; she considers it watertight. I'll keep you posted. She's agreed to provide a reference for you for visitation."
Derpy looked at the latest postcard that Dinky had sent her; a picture of a steam train crossing a tall viaduct. Everything in the picture looked spectacular, the scenery, the viaduct, and the locomotive, a Peppercorn K1 built in Glasgow in 1949. She flipped it over, and reread the account of the journey over West Highland Line and the trip by steam train to Mallaig.
"Substitution being made by Chelsea; coming off is number six, Ricardo Carvalho, replacing him is number nine, Khalid Boulahrouz."
The words of the Hampden Park stadium announcer cut through the night air as the Chelsea defender limped off. With 25 minutes remaining, the score stood at one goal apiece and four yellow cards for Galatasaray to Chelsea's three. Unlike the 3-0 win over Motherwell, this was becoming a very bad tempered game. And then Ricardo Carvalho had gone down badly after a bad challenge. Afterwards, the match petered out into a 1-1 draw, neither side willing to risk further injuries, but the outlook seemed bleak as we left the stadium; many fans around us were talking about ligament damage and lengthy layoffs.
"And in conclusion, Belladonna, your decision to separate Ms Hooves from her daughter is unethical and unlawful. As such, I can safely that you have little choice but to retract the aforementioned decision. And if you don't want to do it, I'm confident that one of the princesses will do it for you."
A smattering of impromptu applause broke out a couple of ponies behind Twilight Sparkle as she reshuffled her notes, and she realised that Lyra had been right when she'd said nopony liked Belladonna. For her part, Belladonna sneered; she knew that while she could refuse, Twilight would then go to one of the princesses, who would likely reverse her decision. And she couldn't count Blueblood out either; her decision to relocate Dinky to London had caused him a lot of headaches in his first few months as ambassador to the United Kingdom. She looked around, trying to think up an excuse...and noticed a newspaper cast to one side. It was open at the sport section, and the headline read, “CARVALHO OUT FOR MONTHS; Chelsea defender in injury agony after sustaining ligament damage"
In a flash, it came to her.
"Very well." She said, almost smirking in triumph, "I will reverse the decision, but only if Chelsea Football Club win the treble; the treble that Manchester United won in 1999."
When Rarity answered the knock at her front door, she was surprised to find Prince Blueblood on her doorstep. Although she and the prince had got off on the wrong hoof in the most spectacular way, relations between the two had become more amicable since.
“Good morning, your highness,” she said. “And to what do I owe the pleasure?”
“I'm here to discuss the favour that I still owe you for the gala, which my Aunt Celestia was only too quick to remind me of yesterday.” Blueblood replied. “Given that being a foreign dignitary has its advantages, I could get you a spa treatment at The Ritz or a ticket to London Fashion Week…”
“Or tickets to the Merseyside Derby!” interjected Rarity's sister Sweetie Belle, a keen Everton supporter.
“Actually,” Rarity said, “There's something more important. You've seen the news, I take it?” She levitated the morning's copy of the Ponyville Times, on which was the headline “TREBLE OR NOTHING”, to the front door.
“Yes. Nasty business, that,” Blueblood remarked. “Had to be handled very carefully, and nearly caused an international incident on my watch. Always had that Belladonna pegged as a nasty piece of work…”
“Yes, yes,” Rarity said, trying to avoid sounding impatient, “But the thing is, my sister is in the same class at school as the filly in question, and I want to know if you can reverse this despicable injustice.”
“That's... easier said than done,” Blueblood replied. “Whilst I am pretty sure that Belladonna broke just about every rule imaginable, I do not have the authority to overturn her ruling. At any rate, the liaison officer I appointed at the embassy has told me that Miss Hooves’ new guardian has bought her a Chelsea season ticket, so she'd still have to return to London for every Premiership match at Stamford Bridge this season. I will do what I can, but just in case, I will get in touch with the organisers of London Fashion Week and…” he glanced at Sweetie Belle.
“Everton” Sweetie Belle prompted.
“Everton Football Club to fulfil my other offers. Good day to you both.”
When he got back to Canterlot, however, he made a detour before going back to the British Embassy, where a portal would take him to the corresponding embassy in London. He stopped at a coffee shop, entered an adjacent door, and walked up a flight of stairs to the first floor, where he entered an office. Behind a desk sat a blue unicorn stallion with an untidy black mane, which had a tuft at the back, and who was wearing a red bow tie and a black pair of glasses.
“One Truth,” Blueblood said. “I need you to get as much incriminating evidence against Belladonna Nightshade as you can.”
Tuesday 14th August
“OK, I'll tell her.” I said, and put the telephone down.
“That was the embassy on the phone,” I said, as I sat back down on the sofa in front of the television, which was showing Premiership Years in the run-up to the start of the season. “I don't want to get your hopes up too much, but there's a chance that you might be going back home. Have you ever heard of the Treble?”
“League title, domestic cup and Champion's League,” Dinky replied. “One of my classmates supports Man Utd.”
“Well, if Chelsea win it this season-”
“But how likely is that?”
“Well, we've dominated the league in the past two seasons. We have a very good chance of winning the FA Cup, and on our day we can beat anyone in Europe; we knocked out Barcelona and Bayern Munich two seasons ago, and the Italian contingent is weakened this year because Juventus have been kicked out for match-fixing. The season starts on Saturday, so there isn't long to wait.”