‘What the fuck was that?’ Carol and Rita shouted at us if we lost or even drew. If I didn’t go up to the kitchen for a couple of days, Carol was on my case. She still is. ‘Where the fuck have you been? Why are you not coming up and eating? Are you trying to avoid us?’ Nobody was safe, academy kid or knight of the realm, when Carol was ranting. She’s probably the only one at United who could get away with giving Sir Alex an earful.
