Tigers & Devils (40 page)

“Maybe he’s right. Local press would be happy, and it would keep them on side. We need their support.”

“I think we’re doing pretty well.”

Declan sighed. “Yeah, at the moment. We need to think long-term.”

“This isn’t a football season. You can’t think that far ahead.”

“We should.” He shrugged.

I started ripping a coaster apart and piled the pieces in the ashtray before me. “I don’t like him thinking he’s won.”

“Jesus, Simon, stop acting like a brat. It’s not about winning.”

I glared at him. “You just called me a brat.”

“Yeah. Because you’re acting like one.”

I couldn’t say anything else, because I thought I would explode and say something far worse. Despite being flushed with alcohol, I was still somewhat sensible. Declan reached for my hand. “Sulking isn’t going to make you look like less of a brat.”

I pulled my hand out of his. He sighed.

“You know what?” I asked.

“What?”

“There are two of us in this relationship. That means I get a say in decisions that affect us. At the moment you’re taking it upon yourself to make them all.”

His tone was measured. “
Because
you’re so goddamned pigheaded sometimes. Jasper Brunswick may be a tool, and I like him about as little as you do, but there are pros and cons to everything.”

I went back to the silent method of avoiding a fight.

This pissed Declan off more. “Okay, I’m going to get a beer.”

I nodded.

Declan sat for a few more moments, the silence between us thick and uncomfortable. Then he got up without a word and headed to the bar. The bell sounded for intermission, and people started heading back into the theatre. Declan, with a beer in his hand, turned to look at me, but I remained seated. I saw his shoulders sag slightly, and he followed everybody else.

I picked up the walkie-talkie. “Bron? They’re all in now. You can start the second program.”

280 | SEAN KENNEDY

The lobby was deserted, and now that I felt weird and alone it had all the atmosphere of the hotel in
The Shining
. But for the moment I still couldn’t move.

I’M not sure how long exactly I sat there, but I eventually got myself together enough for an idea to form. I jammed the walkie-talkie into my pocket and headed over to the ticket box. A collection of postcards of Australian films were for sale on the counter, and although there was nobody around to take my money, I selected a card and left the two dollars next to the locked till.

It was a picture of international hit
Babe
, with the titular pig standing in the farmyard, its annoying but somewhat-charming refrain of
la la la
coming out of its mouth. On the back I scrawled,
I know I can be a stubborn pig, but hopefully I’m as cute
as this one, and like him, worth keeping around. Keep this to remind yourself of that.
Smiling at my own self-perceived cuteness, I flagged down a waitress and asked her if she could take it in to Declan. He would be easy to find; I had assigned him a seat in the handicapped row so he could stretch out his impossibly long legs. She grinned at the picture on the card, but promised not to read it. I headed back to the booth, a sudden wave of fatigue overcoming me. The premiere and the final nights were always the worst, but the good thing was knowing it would all be over in two weeks.

I rested my head against the plush lining of the booth and closed my eyes. I could hear the muted sounds of cinema coming from the theatre doors as they opened and reduce as they closed again.

“Should I pull up a trough for you?” a voice asked.

I opened my eyes again and smiled up at Declan. “I’m sorry.”

He slid in beside me. “Yeah, me too.”

“Oink,” I murmured.

He laughed. “Have I been a control freak lately?”

“Not a control freak, no.”

“But something like it?”

“Hey, you know what? Let’s not bring it up. Let’s just be perfect together from now on and the envy of all our friends.”

“Sounds good.” He dug into his pocket and brought out the postcard. “I’m going to laminate this though, so that it lasts throughout eternity.”

I tried to snatch it away from him, but of course, he was too quick. I relented. “That card’s going to come back to haunt me.”

“I hope so.” Declan laughed and pinned me up against the wall of the booth. “Oh wait,” he said evilly, “Is this a safe place for me to kiss you?”

TIGERS AND DEVILS | 281

“We’re at an avant-garde film festival,” I reminded him. “The only safer place would be Oxford Street during Mardi Gras.”

He laughed, and his eyes were electric despite the muted atmosphere of the booth. I wrapped my arms around him and crushed him against me as we kissed. The booth flooded with light as we heard a camera flash sound. Bewildered, we turned to see Jasper Brunswick standing over us.

“Thanks for the exclusive!” he crowed, and he ran off before we could disentangle ourselves from each other.

“That
shit
,” I breathed.

Declan butted his head against my shoulder. “I guess that solves
that
problem.”

I wanted to be angry, but amusement hit me instead. How could I be mad when my arms were full with Declan, and I was where I wanted to be more than anywhere else in the world?

“So this is what our life is,” I mused.

“Pretty good, huh?” Declan asked.

I really couldn’t disagree.

282 | SEAN KENNEDY

“WHERE’S Declan?”

Having had the life squeezed out of me, I managed to pull away from Fran and gain my breath enough to say, “He’s in Hobart. It’s a home game week. And it’s good to see you too, Franny.”

“Oh, you know that goes without saying,” she chided me over the sounds of a flight from New Zealand being announced over the speakers.

Roger pushed her aside to have his turn at me. “Hey, mate.”

“Jesus, is that a tan?” I asked in shock.

“The amount of time she made me go for walks in the sun, it’s a good thing I didn’t come back with a melanoma.”

“Who’s ‘she’?” Fran protested. “The cat’s mother?”

Fuck, I had missed them. It was the first Christmas I had ever had without Roger, and though you would have thought I would be distracted having my first Christmas with Declan, my best friend’s absence was a sore spot.

“It’s good to see you guys,” I said sincerely.

“Oh God, he’s getting sentimental,” Fran said, hugging me again.

“We were only gone for ten weeks,” Roger reminded me.

“It was eight weeks too long.”

“You didn’t miss us the first two?” Roger looked hurt. Fran’s lips brushed against my hairline. “For someone who missed us so much, you were shit at keeping in contact.” She began ushering us down to the baggage carousel.

“I texted you!” I said defensively.

“
Text
,” Fran muttered dismissively.

“I think I spoke to Dec more than I did you,” Roger said.

“Yeah, well he’s Mr. Perfect isn’t he? You can make
him
your best friend.”

“Someone’s cranky.”

I sighed, watching the bags start to spill out onto the rubber tracks. “I got jumped by the press in the car park.”

Roger’s eyes widened. “Was there a rumble?”

286 | SEAN KENNEDY

Fran hid her smile behind her hand.

“Yes, there was a rumble. Luckily this cute blonde girl came out of nowhere and staked them for me.”

“Are they still following you guys around?” Fran asked. I shrugged. “Sometimes. And sometimes they’re just lucky and catch us out and about. But it’s kind of increasing at the moment now that the pre-season has started.”

“But Declan isn’t playing, right?” asked Roger.

“
That’s
only increasing the interest,” I grumbled. “Everybody’s like ‘when’s he gonna play’, ‘why are they keeping him off the field’, ‘has he not recovered from the operation’, blah blah blah.”

“You were playing his nursemaid.” Fran grinned. “I’m sure he recovered well enough.”

“He was a shit to deal with, though.”

“You must have
hated
having the competition, then,” Roger laughed. I whacked him, but missed as he moved off to grab one of their bags. Fran grabbed my arm and squeezed it affectionately. “So when do we get to see his new apartment?”

They had left before Declan had gotten to move in properly. “He’s already talking about dinner as soon as he next gets up from Hobart.”

“You know me,” Fran said. “Wherever there’s food, I’ll be there.”

“Did someone say food?” Roger reappeared, a bag in his hand. “Only one of them so far.”

“There better be presents in that,” I warned him.

“There might be a snow globe.” Roger shrugged.

“So
is
Declan really better?” Fran asked. “There’s only so much information one can get via text from you, he was being a bit secretive about it whenever I spoke to him, and I didn’t want to believe anything the nets were saying.”

I grimaced as I remembered how often I’d had to help him change his gross and bloody bandages. Along with mopping his fevered brow and feeding him chicken soup.

“He’s getting there,” I said in a low tone, looking suspiciously at the other disembarked passengers and their greeters around us. “But the real test will be when he gets into a game. Especially because the other players won’t be easy on him.”

“What, because he came out?”

I shrugged. “It’s the game. Could be a factor, but—”

“Go hard, or go home!” Roger said, a bit too enthusiastically, causing everybody around us to stare.

I automatically shrank back against Fran as my paranoia led me to believe that a glimmer of recognition began to register collectively in the group’s eyes. “Yes,” I said.

“That.”

TIGERS AND DEVILS | 287

“Bloody stupid game,” Fran muttered.

“You just don’t get it,” Roger countered.

“Go look for the bags!” she ordered, and he skulked off. “Honestly.” She turned her attention back to me. “And his family? How are they dealing with everything?”

“This is starting to feel like the start of one of those show starters.
Previously, on
Simon and Declan
….”

“Give me a break. I haven’t seen you for ages. You have to tell me everything. And then later on you’ll have to tell me in greater detail.”

That last few months had flown by in a barely discernible blur. Just after Fran and Roger left and I was feeling lonely, Declan introduced me to the scary reality of his overprotective siblings. They had all been eager to let me know just how much they cared about their brother and how I was a threat to his safety and happiness.

“They threatened to bury me where I would never be found if I did Dec wrong.”

Fran giggled. “Did they speak in country song cliché all the time?”

I smiled. “They’re actually pretty cool. They love him.”

“What’s not to love?”

“Careful,” I growled.

“I’m married!” She laughed. “Not dead.”

“What?” Roger asked suspiciously, dragging another bag behind him. We just smiled. “Nothing.”

“She’s going on about how hot she thinks Declan is, isn’t she?” Roger demanded.

“Sure,
she’s
allowed to do that kind of thing, but if
I
look at one girl on an Italian beach then you’re suddenly capable of having an affair.”

“He’s overreacting,” Fran said apologetically.

“You kicked me in the balls!”

“I kicked you in the shin, you big baby!” Fran scowled. “And the difference is there’s no chance of me getting with Declan.”

“I don’t know,” I drawled, loving to add fuel to this little fire. “I think he
has
got a little crush on you.”

“Really?” Fran asked, giving Roger a huge sickly sweet smile. Her eyes widened as she noticed one of their bags sailing by. “Be right back!”

Roger sidled up to me. “That’s not really true, is it?”

“What?” I asked innocently.

“Declan having a crush on Fran.”

“Who
wouldn’t
have a crush on Fran?” I asked rhetorically. Roger turned to watch his wife hoist a large bag off the carousel with ease. “Yeah.”

He smiled. “She’s pretty cool.”

“The coolest,” I agreed.

288 | SEAN KENNEDY

“That’s it!” Fran cried as she joined us. “Let’s go!”

I was glad to get back out into the open air as we crossed over the bridge that led to the car park. I was glad to see that the photographers who had jumped out at me earlier were nowhere to be seen. They had probably spotted far more newsworthy prey within the airport getting off another flight. On the other hand, if Dec had been with us….

“Are Dec’s folks treating you like the son they never had?” Roger asked as we loaded the bags into my car.

“Isn’t it about time I got some stories about your trip?” I tried to deflect.

“It’s not as interesting as this,” Fran said sweetly.

I sighed and unlocked the car. We got in and automatically groaned at the heat.

“Dude, it’s about time you got a grown-up car with air conditioning,” Roger grumbled.

“‘Dude
’
?” I asked.

“Get your sugar daddy to buy you a new car,” Roger pushed.

“Shut up,” I seethed. “I like my car.” And I didn’t want to admit that Declan
had
offered to buy me a new car, but I refused.

“So, Declan’s parents?” Fran repeated.

I pretended to concentrate on the road as we merged onto the freeway.

“Simon!” Fran whined.

There was no fighting them. Just like it had been hard to fight off Dec’s family when he finally took ownership of his apartment at the Docklands (unfortunately Cate Blanchett was not his neighbour as I had hoped), even more so when he had his operation just before Christmas and was holed up within it. You would have thought he had been left to fend for himself on an ice floe in the Antarctica the number of times they showed up unannounced, despite the fact that I had moved myself in there with Maggie in tow during his convalescence.

Christmas had been a strange time, as it was the first where I had a partner I wanted to share the season with properly as a couple; before, if I had had a boyfriend around the festive season, I avoided any possibility of doing the family thing with them. But there was no escape this time around; my family had adopted Declan, in spite of what he may have wanted, and Declan’s family made every effort to include me as well. I found myself in the strange new position of having in-laws and also having to watch my parents put in that position as well. Declan was surprised by the fact that this seemed so foreign to me and that I tried to resist it; he was extremely close to his family, although you could question the irony of that because he had never told them about his being gay until he was splashed on the front cover of the
Herald Sun
kissing his boyfriend.

“It’s kind of weird,” I admitted. “It still doesn’t seem real yet, like everybody’s still on their best behaviour. They’re always really nice to me, but I feel like I’m waiting for the real family drama to begin.”

TIGERS AND DEVILS | 289

“You always have to be the pessimist,” Fran said. “They probably can see how serious you guys are. After all you went from dancing around each other in the throes of early love to old married couple in only a couple of months.”

“Is that a compliment?” I asked.

“Well, you think
we
rock,” Roger pointed out. “And we’re an old married couple.”

“Like I said, is that a compliment?”

“If you weren’t driving, I’d hit you.”

“And VicRoads salutes you for responsible motor vehicle management,” I said in all seriousness.

Fran groaned from the back seat. “Is it too late to go back to Italy?”

I ACTUALLY
did
take it as a compliment, because Declan and I were so comfortable with each other. It was new for both of us, and I think we were being careful in protecting it because we didn’t know a relationship could be that way. It was true that it was also because of an us-against-the-world attitude that resulted from the continual intrusion of the press into our personal lives, although it was nowhere near the fever pitch it had been when Dec had first come out.

Looking back, I think we were just living in a state of suspended bliss that came to an end when Dec had to start shuttling back and forth between Melbourne and Hobart in order to start pre-season training. The honeymoon period was over, what with interest in him ramping up again as the press, the club bosses, and the fans waited to see how his knee worked in anticipation of the season to come. Dec tried to stay out of the limelight as much as possible, but he couldn’t. Even though he wasn’t speaking to the press,
they
couldn’t stop talking about him.

His coach had decided to make him sit out the pre-season, which only intensified the speculation about his eventual return. Whenever I spoke to him on the phone, me at home in Melbourne and him in his apartment in Hobart, he sounded pretty miserable. I flew over a couple of times when I could get away from work, but it really didn’t cheer him up any. He was itching to get back out onto the field. The first game of the season was an away one for the Devils. They would be playing against Carlton at the Dome, and it was at a press conference leading up to the game that Scott Frasier finally gave the press and the public what they were waiting for: The Return of Declan TylerTM.

Sitting beside his coach on the podium, Declan looked as unflappable as he always did. Nobody would have ever guessed how petrified he was.

“They kept me away for too long,” he told me, when I met him at his apartment on the Docklands later that afternoon.

“We’ve been over this before,” I told him. “They haven’t. The minute you get out onto the grounds, it will be like you’ve never been away.”

“You don’t know that,” he said grumpily. “You have no idea.”

290 | SEAN KENNEDY

It was true. I didn’t. I mean, I could relate what he was feeling to the way I felt in situations in my own life, but Declan’s would always be different. I would never know what it felt like to be a player; I would only ever have the fan’s perspective of the game. I didn’t know what it was to be thought of as the team god, its saviour, and also its scapegoat if anything went wrong. Throw into that the whole rigmarole that went with being a celebrity, a role model, and the new poster child for gay rights, I guess the man was entitled to be a little bit emo every now and again. Frig knows he did the same for me a hell of a lot of the time.