I opened my mouth to argue. He held up his hand.
"Don't," he said. "Don't give me the speech. Don't tell me about the project, the tactical system, the machine. I know about the machine. I've been watching the machine all season and it's magnificent. But the machine is running the man now, Danny. Not the other way around." He leaned forward. "When did you last call your mum?"
The question hit me like a fist.
"She told you?"
"She didn't have to tell me. I went round for tea on Tuesday and she was sitting in her living room watching a recording of the Stoke match because she said it was the closest she could get to spending time with her son." His voice was even, but the edges were hard.
