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Chapter 814 - Direct Route

I got out of that building at 7.

At 10 past, on the A222, a number I did not know came through the car with a +212 on the front of it, and 212 is Morocco.

I nearly did not answer it. 40 numbers I do not know have rung me this week and 38 of them were journalists.

"Coach Walsh."

"Speaking."

"I am the father of Achraf Hakimi."

I pulled into a lay-by and was careful, because I have been burned once this summer already by talking to the wrong person about the wrong player.

"Sir, before you say anything. I cannot discuss your son with you. He is under contract at another club and if I have that conversation on this telephone I am in trouble and so is he."

"I know. I am not telephoning you about a transfer."

"Right."

"Your man Freedman spoke to me for 9 minutes this afternoon and told me a thing nobody has told me since May." A television was going behind him. "In 7 weeks a great many people have telephoned Mr Salas about Achraf. Nobody has telephoned this house.

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