Leopard Spots - 6. Chapter 6

Thursday morning, Dave trudged into Peter’s office and collapsed into the visitor’s seat. Peter wasn’t there, but Dave knew he wouldn’t be far away. While he should’ve waited elsewhere until Peter showed up before entering, Dave didn’t want to see or talk to anyone else.

Talking to Charlie the night before had helped him make a decision. It wasn’t a decision he was happy with, but he knew it was one that had to be made. It was time to tell Peter.

“Dave! I didn’t expect to see you here,” Peter said as he walked through the door.

“Peter, I...” Dave hung his head. “You were right. I’m out of control. It’s not safe for me to play or train.”

Peter hung his jacket up. “It was an accident, Dave. It was partly your fault, but you didn’t do it on purpose.” His chair rattled once as he rolled it back and sat down.

Dave didn’t look up. “I know, but I’m dangerous. I’m quitting the team.”

When Peter didn’t respond immediately, Dave lifted his head. Peter was staring at him across the desk, a faint frown on his lips.

“Wasn’t Andrew able to help you?”

Dave winced at the gentle tone. “No, but he’s referred me to a psychologist. I’ve got an appointment for next Friday; that was the earliest I could get in.”

“Let’s wait until you’ve spoken to him or her before making a final decision, Dave. We don’t have to rush into this. For now, we’ll just say you’re taking a break.”

Dave shook his head as he dropped his gaze. “If I don’t stop, I’m going to hurt someone else, too. I need to get out of here.”

“Dave, look at me.”

Dave didn’t want to do so, but he knew Peter wasn’t going to stop until he did. He lifted his eyes to see Peter staring at him with a soft, encouraging smile.

“We’re not going to give up on you, Dave. We’ll wait until you’ve had a chance to talk to the psychologist before we make any long-term decisions. Keep up your fitness training, but you don’t need to attend team sessions until you’re ready.” Peter leant forward. “Dave, there’s something wrong, but quitting isn’t the answer.”

“I’m dangerous!”

Peter’s smile took on a wry twist. “A little, but only in contested drills. There’s still lots you can do that doesn’t present a risk to your teammates. As I said, you don’t have to attend team sessions, though I’d like you to. If you do join in, I’ll make sure you’re not involved in any activities that might trigger your aggression. That should keep everything under control until you and the psychologist work out what’s going on. How does that sound?”

Dave considered the suggestion. He didn’t want to give up football, but he had been scared by not only the warnings he’d received previously but also by Charlie’s injury.

“As long as you keep me away from everyone else.”

Peter nodded. “Not completely, but any time there’s a risk of you losing control, we’ll give you some solo exercises to do. Are you happy with that?”

Dave jerked his head up and down as he backed down from his earlier decision. He didn’t know if doing so was good or bad, but he felt a small sense of relief that he was still part of the team.

Peter smiled. “In that case, I suggest you retire to the gym and work off some excess energy. Don’t overdo it; we don’t want you injured.”

Dave winced. “Which is what I did to Charlie.”

Peter scowled. “It was an accident, Dave. Get that into your thick skull. It’s not the first injury during practise, and it won’t be the last. It was avoidable, yes, but these things happen. Don’t beat yourself up over it. We’ll talk again later today, but let’s not make rushed decisions that we’ll both regret.”

Dave sat there for several seconds staring into space while he tried to will himself into believing what his coach was telling him. It didn’t work, but he knew he couldn’t let Peter know that. He forced a smile onto his face.

“Thanks, Peter.”

* * *

Charlie smiled at Karen and Stacey as he and Ty joined the girls outside the restaurant.

“Sorry we’re a little late. I hope you haven’t been waiting long.” Ty gave Karen a light peck on the cheek.

“No, not too long.” Karen frowned at Charlie’s sling. “You mentioned that Charlie was hurt, but you didn’t say how seriously, Ty.”

Ty shrugged. “To be honest, we’re hoping it’s not that serious. It’ll still keep him from playing for a couple of weeks, though.” He tilted his head towards the restaurant door. “Should we go in?”

Stacey slipped into position on Charlie’s right. He smiled and held out his good arm, which she obligingly wrapped with hers.

“What happened?” Stacey asked in a quiet voice as she and Charlie followed the other two into the restaurant.

“A bad fall ruptured a ligament in my shoulder. The doctor indicated it was only a partial tear, but I’ve got to rest it to let it heal properly.” Charlie looked across at Ty who was holding the door open for them. “Thanks, Ty.”

Ty shrugged. “No problem. Just don’t expect to be waited on hand and foot. You’ve still got one good arm.” He grinned to show he wasn’t serious.

A few minutes later, they were seated at a corner table in the dimly lit room. A young woman smiled and handed out menus before leaving them to make their selections.

“Are we going to have a starter as well as a main?” Karen asked, her eyes scanning the menu.

Ty chuckled. “Of course! I’m still a growing boy.”

Karen raised an eyebrow. “I don’t go out with boys.”

“In that case, I’m still a growing young man.”

She grinned. “Much better.”

They discussed the menu for a couple of minutes more before the waiter returned. After ordering meals and drinks, they settled back in their seats.

“So, how did it happen, Charlie?” Karen asked.

Ty jumped in before Charlie could respond. “That bastard Dave threw him to the ground too hard.”

Charlie shook his head. “It wasn’t Dave’s fault! It was just an accident.”

Ty scowled. “He’d been warned to back off from being too aggressive, but he kept going. If it hadn’t been you, it would’ve been someone else!”

“Ty...please, drop it. There’s things going on that you don’t know about and that I can’t share. Can we just change the subject?”

Ty frowned at Charlie for a moment. “If you say so, but you’re going to have to give me more than that at some stage. I’m still angry about what he did to you.” He turned to Karen. “Since Charlie wants to talk about something else, how did you find this place? I like a cosy place that’s not too expensive and near the train station.”

Karen chuckled. “Every poor student’s best friend: a website of cheap eats around Melbourne. It also helps that it’s walking distance from home.”

Ty grinned. “Excellent! We can come here more often, and then I can walk you home afterwards. Sounds perfect.”

“We were talking about a regular Thursday night out, but I think I’d get sick of Indian if we did it every week.”

Their conversation was interrupted by a disturbance from across the room. An early-middle-aged muscular man was banging on his table. “Water! Water!”

A waiter and waitress descended on what appeared to be a small family group: the man, a woman of similar vintage, and a young guy around the same age as Ty and Charlie.

After gulping down two glasses of water, the man slammed the glass onto the table. “When I ordered something hot, I expected it to be edible! Not this...this pile of spice! There’s supposed to be some fucking food in there, too!”

The waiter looked contrite. “Please sir, we did tell you the vindaloo was hot...”

“He did warn you, dear,” the woman said.

“Stay out of this please, Mary.” The man clambered to his feet and glared at the waiter. “When a limp-wristed poofter like yourself tells me it’s hot, how am I supposed to know that it’s going to be real hot? I thought you meant it was hot for you, not hot for someone who works a real job. I’ve got half a mind to complain to the manager!”

The woman put her hand on his hand. “Phil, dear, there’s no need to make a scene. Why don’t you have some of my curry?”

The young guy at the table cringed. He quietly continued eating, head down over his food so he wouldn’t catch the eye of anyone else in the restaurant. The older man continued to rant until the manager appeared. After a few quiet words, the man, still scowling, returned to his seat.

Karen chuckled as she turned her attention back to the others at the table. “I’m glad no one ordered the vindaloo.”

Ty grinned. “I didn’t, but next time I’ll have what he’s having, just to see if it’s as spicy as that homophobic bastard made out.”

“Not me. I don’t like food that spicy,” Charlie said.

Karen frowned as she glanced at the other two people at the table. “Charlie, Stacey, I’m sorry. Ty and I are dominating the conversation.”

Charlie grinned. “Ty’s good at that. Don’t worry about me; I like to be in the background most of the time.”

Karen smirked. “So does Stacey. However, Ty and I invited you both to join us to do more than listen to the two of us chatter. You’re from country Victoria, aren’t you, Charlie?”

He nodded. “Echuca. My parents have a farm up there. They wanted me to go to uni, but I wanted to play football. We compromised, and I’m doing a part-time degree while playing with the Leopards. We’d hoped I’d get drafted into the AFL, but it didn’t happen.” Charlie sighed. “And, unlike Ty here, I don’t think that will change. However, I’m enjoying playing, even if I’m unlikely to make a career of doing so.”

Stacey put her hand on Charlie’s, attracting his attention. “If you love doing it...”

Charlie smiled. “I know. The degree’s for when I can’t play at that level anymore.”

Ty frowned. “What did you mean by ‛unlike Ty’?”

Charlie gave his teammate a wry smile. “I mean that, unlike you, I don’t see much chance of me being drafted into the AFL. As Will keeps telling me, I need to develop the killer instinct to push myself to the next level. You have it, and I think most of the team is expecting you to be drafted at the end of this year – or maybe the next. A lot of us can’t understand why you weren’t picked last year.”

Ty grimaced and looked away. “I think I can answer that: my old man. He...” Ty shook his head. “I don’t want to talk about him.”

Karen frowned. “Can you guys explain something for me? I’ve heard Ty and Jim talk about being drafted, but isn’t that a little...well...disloyal to your current team? What do your teammates and coaches think about you wanting to leave the club and play in the AFL?”

Ty’s forehead wrinkled. “Charlie, do you want to give it a shot? Dad’s explained it to me, but I’m not sure I’d get it straight.”

Charlie nodded. “Okay.” He smiled at Karen. “VFL teams survive on being successful. We all want the club to be as successful as possible. One key part in being successful is recruiting top players. Each year, there’s lots of players, like Ty, who didn’t make the draft but still dream of making it to the big league and playing AFL.”

“You, too, Charlie.” Ty chuckled. “In fact, I think most of the club still has that dream. I know Dad does, even if he’s getting a bit old for it.”

“Jim’s only twenty-one. That’s not that old.” Charlie returned his attention to Karen. “Anyway, if a club gets a reputation for being able to take players and get them ready to be drafted into the AFL, then that club is going to get a lot more of those good-but-not-drafted players interested in playing for them. Long term, that’s good for the club because it means that there’s a constant supply of quality new player ready to join. Yes, the club loses out on an individual basis when a player gets drafted, but overall it’s positive for the club. That’s why the club supports and encourages players to try to get into the AFL.”

Ty grinned. “It also doesn’t hurt that to reach the AFL, a player has to do his best. That lifts the entire team, not just the player who actually makes it to that level.”

Karen narrowed her eyes at Ty then turned to stare at Charlie. “You implied earlier that Ty will make it to the AFL. Was that serious?”

Charlie nodded. He grinned when he realised that Ty was blushing. “He might not make it – no one knows what could happen during the season – but he’s got the skills and, more importantly, he’s still improving. If there’s anyone in the team who has a decent chance, it’s Ty. We all recognise that.”

Stacey glanced at Ty. “What’s Charlie’s chances?”

Ty frowned. “I’d like to say great, because he’s a good guy and he deserves it, but,” he gave Charlie an apologetic look, “I don’t know. As he said before, he doesn’t have that killer instinct. He’s competitive – he wouldn’t be playing VFL level if he wasn’t – but there are a lot of other players out there with similar abilities. Sorry, Charlie.”

Charlie smiled. “I try to be honest with myself, Ty, and you haven’t said anything that I didn’t already know. There’s around four hundred players playing VFL, but only a handful will get drafted into the AFL. The competition is fierce.”

Ty scowled. “Wait a moment, the odds aren’t that bad. A good percentage of that four hundred are already AFL players that are playing down a level for various reasons. I’ve no idea how many there are, but we’ll be playing against second-tier AFL players every time we play any of the affiliated clubs. That gives us the chance to show what we’re capable of against AFL-level players.”

Charlie nodded. “True, and it’s why I think you’ve got a good chance of making it to the AFL. I checked up afterwards; almost half of the Collingwood players last week were in the AFL. You’re making an impression, Ty, and I don’t think any of the teams we play against aren’t noticing it.”

Ty grinned. “And you’re part of the same team, so they’ll be noticing you, too.”

Charlie shook his head. “I know what level of contribution I’m making. I’m doing my part, but I’m not doing enough to stand out. While I don’t mind dreaming of the AFL, I’m content to play VFL.”

Stacey slipped her arm around Charlie’s. “Good, because I don’t think I could associate with someone playing AFL. Aren’t their girlfriends supposed to be shallow but having a great fashion sense?” She grinned at Karen.

Charlie grinned at the implications of Stacey’s comment. He made a mental note to organise a second date for just the two of them sometime soon.

Karen stuck out her tongue. “Don’t stereotype. I’m sure very few of them are shallow. If Ty makes it to the AFL, I’ll be happy for him. If he doesn’t, I’ll still be here.” She leant over and gave Ty a kiss on the cheek. “I like him as he is. How well he plays football isn’t that important.”

* * *

Neil kept his feelings hidden while his father made a fool of himself at the restaurant. Neil’s mother had selected the place for her birthday dinner, and the event had been largely ruined, all because his father wouldn’t take the advice of someone he considered to be weaker than himself.

The manager’s offer to exchange the vindaloo with something that wasn’t so hot, as well as to not charge them for the extra meal, had calmed Phillip Rosewood down enough to allow the family to complete their meal, but any sensation of it being a celebration was lost.

Neil couldn’t wait until he was able to leave home. His father’s regular homophobic taunts were soul-destroying, and Neil knew had to get away. Jim was his ticket out of there; someone who would understand and be able to keep him safe. All Neil needed to do was to reach out to him, and all his problems would disappear. That was the dream that kept Neil’s hopes alive.

* * *

Friday afternoon, Neil breathed a sigh of relief as he dumped his schoolbag on his bed. It had been the weirdest week he could remember, but he hadn’t been able to work out if it was also the worst. He was just glad the weekend had arrived.

Doug, Liam, and Rod, apart from the incident on Monday morning, had left him alone all week. Normally, that would be cause for celebration, but instead he’d spent most of the week trying, unsuccessfully, to avoid Clarissa.

Neil was sure that everyone else would think it was funny, but he was becoming scared of the single-minded young woman. She caught him before school each day and paraded him through the schoolyard like he was some sort of prize. He tried to avoid her at lunchtimes, too, but had only been partly successful; she always found him eventually. Having to look for him, however, had pissed her off, and she’d even gone as far as to slap him once, telling him that he was being ungrateful.

Earlier on that Friday, Neil had seen Liam by himself before one of their classes. Being desperate, he’d done something he would normally never do: he went up and spoke to one of his long-term tormentors.

“Please, Liam, you’ve got to help me.”

Liam had stared down his nose. “Why should I do anything for you, Four-Dork?”

“I need to get rid of Clarissa. She’s driving me crazy!”

While Liam’s laughter wasn’t totally unexpected, Neil had still been put off by the fact. “You could always tell her you’re gay; that worked for me.”

When Neil had realised he was seriously considering the suggestion, he knew how far gone he was. Before he could say anything, Liam had frowned. “On second thoughts, don’t say that at all. If you did, people might try to hook us up, and there’s no way I’d want to be associated with someone like you.”

“Then why do you keep harassing me?”

“Because you’re a loser. Because it’s amusing how flustered you get when you get picked on. Because it’s fun.” For a moment, Liam’s expression had softened. “You need to toughen up, Four-Dork. Life’s not pretty, as you’re finding with Clarissa. Indeed, I suspect you’d prefer us to her.”

Neil had walked away at that point. Liam’s final comment had too much truth in it. The conversation had also had the effect of vetoing any idea of appealing to Liam as another gay guy.

The current dilemma that Neil faced was whether to meet up with Clarissa on Saturday for the clothes shopping she’d promised him. It was easy for him not to go, but then he’d have the mad witch to deal with on the Monday, if not earlier. He didn’t know – he didn’t really want to know – but he suspected she knew where he lived. The only good news was that after her disgust at learning he wasn’t quite eighteen, and hence didn’t have a driver’s license, he didn’t have to go to her place to pick her up. They were supposed to meet at the Eastland shopping centre at ten on Saturday morning.

Neil smiled as a thought struck him. Clarissa was unlikely to want to spend too much time with him, as the whole point appeared to be to try to go one-up on Liam. If it were just the two of them, she would have no reason to stick around. She only wanted him to go clothes shopping so he would look better at school when he was with her.

However, there’s no reason his parents had to know that. If he told them he would be out for the day, saying he was meeting a girl from school, he would be able to go shopping and then take the train to Lilydale for the opening round of the main VFL season. He would have an excuse for being out for the day and would even possibly be allowed to come home late without being questioned too harshly.

The trade-off would be that he’d have to spend more time at home on the Sunday, since both mornings on the weekend were usually homework time. Neil was happy to suggest that compromise to his parents, especially if it gave him the chance to speak to Jim before or after the game.

He had a plan. Shopping Saturday morning, followed by trying to see Jim in the afternoon. Putting up with Clarissa was a price he was willing to pay for the chance to gain his desired boyfriend.

* * *

“Owen, can I have a word before we start?” Peter asked as the team prepared for their regular Friday-night training session. With a game the next day, the training was usually light, followed by a team strategy meeting in the clubroom.

“Sure, Peter. What is it?”

Peter led Owen away from the others. “As you know, we’re grooming Ty to play as a forward when we need him there.”

Owen nodded, though he appeared puzzled as to where the conversation was going.

“That’s going to leave a hole amongst the defenders, and we’re looking at ways to fill it.”

Owen frowned. “You’ve still got Todd, Paul and Ward. That’s a pretty solid group. I don’t see the hole.”

Peter smiled. “You’re right, but there’s no depth. If one player is having a bad day or, worse, gets injured, we’ve got no one to fill the gap.”

Owen nodded slowly. “And you’re thinking of me.”

“That’s right. With Ty on the forward line, we can spare you to move to the back line. I’ll say now that this is no reflection on your abilities. We’re not replacing you with Ty; he brings in a different skill set for when we need it. You’re still the regular forward, and he’s a regular defender.”

Owen chuckled. “You don’t have to butter me up, Peter. We all know how good Ty is, and while we’re about the same height, he’s more solid and faster than me. He’s also got a great football mind; he reads plays better than most. It’s a pity we can’t clone him; another three or four copies of Ty would make us unbeatable.”

Peter laughed. “If you want Dad to have a heart attack, mention that to him. I’m sure he’d love to have another three or four brats running around.” He caught Owen’s eye. “You’re okay with this?”

Owen grinned. “More than okay. I’ve got a lot to learn if I’m going to be a part-time defender, and I doubt I’ll ever be at Ty’s level, but if it helps the team, I’m all for it. I’m just afraid I won’t be up to scratch.”

Peter slapped him on the shoulder. “Excellent! We’ll work out a program and start you on it next week. We don’t expect to need you to do this for some time; I’m just planning ahead for when we might need an extra defender.”

Owen frowned. “I have to ask: why aren’t you using Jim for this role? He’s already got the skills even if he spends most of his time as a midfielder.”

Peter smiled. “Julie asked the same question. I won’t go into details, but Jim’s a key midfielder. I need him there as much as possible. If I need to, he’ll go to the back line, but only if absolutely necessary. Any more questions?”

Owen shook his head. “No, that’s fine with me.”

“Then get back out there with your teammates. You’ve got a lot of work coming up.”

Owen hesitated. “Peter, about Dave...”

Peter frowned. “Dave’s my responsibility, Owen, not yours.”

“I know, but I’m concerned, especially after what happened on Wednesday night with Charlie.”

Peter pursed his lips for a moment. “Dave is still part of this team, and I don’t want him left on the outer. We’ve had a chat, and he’ll participate to the best of his abilities. He knows what’s going on, and we’re both happy with that. The rest is not your concern. Now drop it and get out there or I’ll have you running laps.” Peter made sure he didn’t smile. He didn’t want Owen to misunderstand how serious he was.

Peter and Dave had agreed that Dave would sit on the interchange bench for the game the next day. He would only substitute in if absolutely necessary. That kept him as part of the team without, hopefully, endangering anyone.

* * *

“Remember, Deon, we don’t want any incidents,” Tony said as they walked up to the airport gate where Sam Bradshaw’s flight was scheduled to arrive. Deon was wearing a Lilydale Leopard club tracksuit: black background with brown stripes down the side, the club’s leopard logo on the left side of the chest, and a set of club sponsor logos on the back. Tony was wearing a club polo shirt, covered by a jacket of similar design to Deon’s tracksuit top.

Deon chuckled. “You’re nervous. That’s the fourth time you’ve warned me since we left training.”

“Deon...”

“Don’t worry. I’m not here to pick a fight. I may have a few words to say to him if it turns out he’s my father, but I’ll save those for when we’re in the car.”

“Deon, he donated a large sum of money to help the club. If he’s your father, that means he did it to help you. Please don’t antagonise him.”

Deon smiled at Tony, trying to reassure the shorter guy. “I promise I’ll do my best, but if you were worried, you shouldn’t’ve let me come.”

Tony gave a nervous chuckle as they arrived at Gate 21 in the Qantas terminal of Melbourne Airport. “If he’s your father, you have the right to meet him if you want to. I think you’re mature enough to not make a spectacle, so I didn’t think I had a choice; it wouldn’t’ve been fair for you not to be here once you knew.”

Deon grunted. The more he learnt about Tony, the more he realised how lucky Jim was. Tony cared about other people, a lot more than most. He was also generally level-headed, but then so was Jim. Deon had seen Jim lose his temper, something he hadn’t witnessed with Tony, but otherwise the two had similar personalities, at least from Deon’s perspective. Neither dominated the other in general, though both deferred to the other in matters in which the other had the skills or experience. Jim let Tony dictate the broad aspects of his media interactions, while Tony took a step back on anything to do with the players or football.

Tony studied one of the monitor screens showing flight-arrival details. “It looks like we’ve got fifteen to twenty minutes before they land. Care for a cup of coffee while we wait? That place we just passed looks like it was about to close, but if we’re quick, we might get in before they do.”

“Sounds good to me.” Deon smiled. “I’ll get them.”

Tony waved a hand to dismiss the suggestion. “My shout. What would you like?”

“Are you sure? I don’t mind.”

Tony grinned. “A couple of cups of coffee isn’t going to send me broke. What do you want?”

“Skinny cap, two sugars.”

A couple of minutes later, the two were seated at the coffee shop just around the corner from the gate, Deon with a cappuccino and Tony with a latte. Tony fidgeted for a few seconds before catching Deon’s eye.

“You can tell me it’s none of my business, but do you know how things are going with Denise?”

Deon raised an eyebrow as a faint smile played across his lips. “Haven’t you been speaking to Jim about her? He asks me every couple of days for an update.”

Tony grimaced. “I’ve never felt comfortable asking. She was his girlfriend, and it didn’t seem right to ask my boyfriend about his ex. I worry, though, because I know how much Jim’s concerned about her.”

Deon frowned for a moment. “You’re worried because he’s concerned about Denise?”

Tony’s eye’s widened. “No! That didn’t come out the way I intended. What I meant is that I know that Jim’s concerned, and I want him to be happy. I’m worried about how she’s doing, because if she’s hurt, that’ll hurt Jim, too.”

Deon nodded slowly. “Fair enough. The short answer is that she’s not doing too well. Mum’s trying to get her to see a counsellor – hopefully the same one that helped Mum when my Dad left her, if she’s still working. Denise is on an emotional rollercoaster at the moment – positive and ready to move on one day, and wondering if life is worth living the next.”

Tony’s jaw dropped open. “Are you serious, or was that just a figure of speech?”

Deon looked away. He didn’t want Tony to see the moisture in his eyes “It wasn’t a figure of speech. She’d had her heart set on Jim, and he broke it so badly that she sometimes wonders if there’s any reason to keep going.”

“Shit!”

“Mum went through the same thing. I saw it, and it’s not something you forget. Mum’s seeing her daily, and Pamela and I are trying to visit at least a couple of times a week. We’re all trying to support her through this until she’s able to go on by herself.”

Deon felt Tony’s hand on his arm, expressing tactile sympathy. “You, your mum, and Pamela are great people, Deon. I really appreciate what you’re doing, and I’m sure Jim does, too.”

Deon grunted and wiped the back of his hand across his eyes. “It’s putting a strain on things with my girlfriend. She was fine initially, but she doesn’t really understand why I need to spend so much time with Denise. Mum warned me that it would be a bad idea for me to see Denise without Pamela there, just in case Denise got the wrong idea, but Pamela’s starting to complain.”

“How about Jim and I take you and Pamela out to dinner one night next week as a way of showing our appreciation. From what you’re saying, it’ll be more for her than you, though we appreciate what you’re doing, too.”

Deon turned his head and gave Tony a weak smile. “That’d be nice, but you don’t have to do that.”

Tony’s answering smile was gentle. “As I said at the start, Jim needs to know that Denise is okay, but neither one of us can do that. We need you guys to do it for us. Showing our thanks is the least we can do.”

Deon nodded his head. “Thanks.” He glanced up at the monitors. “By the way, this is not the best topic of discussion if you want me to be calm when I meet my father. All this is doing is bring back bad memories of what he did to my mum. I suggest a change of topic unless you want a full-blown fight when he steps off the plane.”

“Shit! Sorry, Deon. I didn’t think...”

Deon’s laugh still had an edge of pain. “Obviously.” He glanced around. “Jim tells me he wants to get involved with the school-clinic program. Do you think that’s a good idea?”

Tony grinned. “Nice change of subject. Yeah, I think it’s a great idea. Keith, my old boss at Pride FM, told me that he’d get back to me next week about whether they’d take over Jim’s sponsorship. If they do, Jim will be free to do the clinics with Ollie and Roger. Even if Pride FM can’t, I’m sure I can find someone else to sponsor him. There’s still a lot of homophobia around, and simply being there in front of the students will help fight that. Jim’s applied for his Working With Children card, which he’ll need if he’s going to visit the schools. I’m keeping my fingers crossed that everything falls into place.”

Deon sighed. “I can remember my school years. Even last year, when I was doing my VCE, the term ‛gay’ was used to mean weak or lame. I don’t know if anyone was thinking about homosexuals when they used it – I certainly didn’t, at least not consciously, and I had more reason than most to do so – but it must’ve been pretty demeaning to any gay guys who heard us say it.”

Tony grimaced. “Yeah, pretty much all through my school years it was the same sort of thing. Homosexual was equated with being weak or girlish. The idea of a gay sportsman felt weird. That’s why I was so pleased when Jim told me what he wanted to do. I’ll do whatever I can to help him because there must be a ton of gay guys out there in the schools that are shit-scared to come out for fear of being labelled weak.”

Deon laughed. He saw Tony’s perplexed expression, but it took him a few seconds before he could respond. “Sorry, Tony, but what you said was funny. True, but funny. About guys being scared to be thought of as weak; that’s true for all us, not just the gay guys. I don’t know how many stupid things I did while I was in school because I didn’t want the other guys to think I was afraid or weak.” He held up a hand to forestall Tony’s response. “Yeah, gay guys have an extra thing to worry about, but the fear itself isn’t unique to them. So I agree with you: if Jim can make a difference by showing that being gay doesn’t mean being weak, then that’s great.”

Tony’s reply was a sheepish smile. “Okay, I’ll concede that. It’s still a lot of pressure on the closeted gay guys, and I don’t think you realise how much pressure that can be, but it’s not just the gay guys who are scared.”

Deon frowned as Tony’s comment caught his attention. “Can you tell me about that pressure? I’d like to know more.”

Tony shrugged. “Can you imagine having to always be careful of not only what you say but where you look? To lie to everyone about what you feel, not only to look macho, but also about who you like?” Tony’s gaze became unfocused. “Always scared that you’ll slip up. Always worried that someone will find out. And, throughout it all, wondering what’s going to happen in the future. How many friends will you lose when the truth finally comes out? Worrying about how your family will react. People you care about – will they stick by you? To keep hidden, you dig a hole for yourself, and you hide in that hole, keeping who you really are out of everyone’s sight. Sometimes the hole is so deep that the gay guy never manages to climb out. And...sometimes...the hole collapses, and the gay guy doesn’t come out alive.”

Tony brought his attention back onto Deon. “Jim was about to break from that pressure. In some of our phone conversations before he came out, he wasn’t completely rational. He talked about coming out, and then he’d talk about needing to hide. He had been surviving by rare trips to a gay nightclub so he could spend a couple of hours of just being himself – no hiding, and the only secret was his real name – but for some reason that stopped working. He was about to crack...and I don’t know in what way. In some ways, what happened at the club was the best thing that could’ve happened to him. It allowed him to find the courage to come out and to do it in a way that was positive for everyone. Not everyone is so lucky.”

Deon grunted. He had a lot to think about, and it was going to take time to absorb.

Tony seemed to sense that Deon needed some space, so the rest of the time before the flight landed was spent in silence. When the monitor indicated that flight QF487 had landed, the two made their way back around the corner to Gate 21 to wait for the passengers to disembark. Tony pulled out the small piece of cardboard on which he has written the name “Sam Bradshaw”, and he held it ready.

The two watched as the business-class passengers disembarked, and then the economy passengers started to appear. A couple of minutes later, Deon stiffened. Coming up the air-bridge was a heavy-set man in his late thirties or early forties with thick black hair and wire-rimmed glasses. Next to him was a shorter guy of similar age but with a receding hairline and thinner build. Deon’s attention was on the first man.

“It’s him.”

“Which one?” Tony asked.

Deon ignored him. It would be obvious soon enough. Instead, he kept his attention on his father, waiting for the moment that he would realise that Deon was there. Sam was halfway along the section between the gate doors and the central passageway where Tony and Deon waited when it happened.

Sam stopped suddenly, his face going pale, as he met Deon’s gaze. The guy next to him appeared to ask what was wrong, but Sam ignored him. The other passengers, some expressing annoyance, pushed past the two until Sam resumed moving, albeit at a much slower pace.

Deon’s mind was both calm and in turmoil. He was calm, not reacting, but waiting to see what would happen next, while varying surges of emotions swept through him. He didn’t know what to think at the first sight of a father he hadn’t seen for many years, but there were thoughts at the edge as to what he would like to do. Deon fought them all to a halt...and waited.

“Sam Bradshaw?” Tony asked as he took a step forward.

Sam nodded, though his eyes didn’t leave his son’s. “Hello, Deon.”

Deon nodded his head once. “Tony, this is my father.” He glanced past Sam to the guy who accompanied him. “I’m guessing you’re the boyfriend.” Deon’s tone was flat.

“Deon...” Tony’s voice was low.

Deon winced. “Sorry, Tony.” He put on a smile and stuck out a hand to Sam’s partner. “Hi. I didn’t mean it that way. I’m Deon, this is Tony, and you are...?”

The other guy smiled tentatively. “Marcus. Sam’s told me a lot about you, so it’s great to finally meet you in person. We weren’t expecting to see you, though, until tomorrow after the game.” He flicked a glance at Sam next to him.

Tony grinned at the two newcomers. “We’ve got over an hour in the car ahead of us, so I’m sure we can do a lot of catching up while we’re on the way. I’m guessing you’ve got some luggage to collect downstairs?”

Sam nodded, though his attention remained on Deon. He seemed uncertain. “One suitcase.”

“Then, let’s go.” Tony led the way, though he glanced back once to make sure the others were following.

Deon glanced at his father and Marcus and quickly realised that if he didn’t want to start a fight in public, the best approach was to not hold a conversation with them until they were in the car. He raced up and joined Tony in the lead.

* * *

Tony was waiting for the traffic lights to change to allow them to leave the airport and to get onto the Tullamarine freeway. Deon was in the front next to him, with Marcus and Sam in the back seat. Sam sat behind Tony, out of Tony’s sight behind the driver’s seat, and Marcus was seated behind Deon. Tony had offered Sam the front passenger seat, but he had declined. Tony could already feel the tension in the car, and they had only been in there for a few minutes.

“Does Mum know that you’re here?” Deon asked, his tone apparently indifferent.

“Yes, she does. She’s bringing Jordan and Teresa to see me tomorrow morning, and then the five of us are going to the game to see you play,” Sam said.

“I see. She didn’t bother to mention it to me, though,” Deon said, a hint of annoyance filtering into his voice.

“I asked her not to. None of us was sure how you’d react, and I wanted the option of not seeing you if that was best for everyone.”

Deon turned his head to glare at his father. “How did you think I’d fucking react if you just strolled in after almost ten years and said hi? What sort of sick game are you playing?”

The car was quiet for a couple of seconds as the lights changed and Tony headed onto the freeway.

Marcus broke the silence. “Sam thought he’d lost you, Deon. He didn’t know if you’d ever speak to him again. You’re the only one of his kids who hasn’t been talking to him.”

“And why the fuck do you think that’s so? He’s a cheating bastard that walked out on my mum, leaving her to fend for herself! He’s been gone for years. Why couldn’t he fucking well stay gone?”

Sam’s voice trembled as he replied. “Because I thought there was a chance we could reconcile.”

“Fuck that idea!”

Tony felt it was time to intervene. “Deon, you asked to be here tonight. Why did you do that if you don’t want to talk to him?”

Deon stared at Tony for a moment, his mouth open but not saying anything. He shook his head and crossed his arms as he turned to look out the windscreen.

Marcus was again the one to end the silence. “Tony, can you tell us a bit about Jim? What sort of person is he?”

Deon snorted, but when Tony glanced to the side, he could see a faint smile on Deon’s lips. “Tony’s not the best person to ask. He’s biased, since Jim’s his boyfriend.”

Tony caught Marcus’s surprised expression in the rear-view mirror. “Guilty as charged. Deon’s probably the better one to answer, since he shares a house with Jim. Deon, would you like to give it a go?”

Deon’s eyes were narrowed as he glanced at Tony, but he nodded his head. “Jim’s a great guy. Very sensible and very dedicated. He was my mentor for a couple months, helping me settle into the club and getting myself organised as I was living away from home for the first time. I couldn’t’ve asked for anyone better to have helped me through those months. He’s also good at getting to the heart of issues; he’s helped me recently with that, too.”

“Did you know he was gay?” Marcus asked.

Deon shook his head. “I only found that out Tuesday last week. It was a shock, but I already knew that one of the team was going to come out, so it didn’t hit me completely out of the blue. I never expected it of him, though.”

“Why don’t you tell them how you found out?” Tony said. Jim had told him about the dinner with Denise, where he came out to her and his housemates.

Deon scowled. “You’re a bastard, Tony. You set me up deliberately.”

Tony smiled across, knowing he’d knocked Deon off balance, which would hopefully lead to a more honest and open discussion with his father. “True, but don’t you think it’s relevant?”

“Jim’s not my father!”

Tony nodded. “No, he’s not. But you were there when he told his girlfriend he’s gay. Jim trusts you as his conscience regarding Denise. Who’s your dad’s conscience?”

“He doesn’t have one!”

“I don’t believe that.”

Deon grunted and slumped into his seat. Tony glanced in the rear-view mirror and caught Marcus’s shocked expression. He would’ve liked to have seen Deon’s father’s reaction, but Sam was seated directly behind Tony.

“Excuse me, but who’s Denise?” Marcus asked.

“Jim’s ex. He broke up with her the night before he told the team he’s gay.” Tony smiled at Marcus through the mirror. “He’s still broken up about it, and to be blunt, Denise is currently in an emotional mess. Jim and Deon both know he’s hurt her, but Deon and his mum are doing their best to mitigate the damage Jim’s done. That’s what I meant about Deon being Jim’s conscience regarding her.”

“That’s why Mandy said that this wasn’t a good time,” Sam said in a depressed tone. “Jim’s done the same thing I did.”

Deon spun around in his seat. “Jim’s nothing like you!”

“Yes, he is,” Tony said as he checked the side mirror before changing lanes to head onto the northern ring road. “He did the same thing that your father did.”

“They’re nothing alike! Jim cares for Denise; he honestly loves her. If he wasn’t gay, I think he’d be planning to marry her. He didn’t walk out on her, leaving three kids behind!”

Tony glanced in the mirror. “Marcus, forgive me if this is inappropriate, but how long have you and Sam been together?”

Marcus smiled. “If you’re asking what I think you’re asking, yes, I’m the one Sam left Mandy for. We’ve been together almost ten years now.”

“He must be getting ready to leave you, then. It’s about time for him to move on again,” Deon snarled.

Tony scowled at Deon before returning his attention to the road in front of him. That part of the freeway was new to him, having changed considerably since the last time he’d driven it a couple of years earlier. He decided to ignore Deon’s comment and hoped that the other two would do the same.

“How hard was it for Sam to leave his wife?” Tony asked.

Deon glared. “He’s right there, Tony. Why can’t the bastard answer for himself?”

“For the same reason I’m not asking you. I want an outside opinion because you and he are too bloody biased!” Tony glanced up at the mirror again. “Marcus?”

Tony received a thankful smile in return. He knew that Marcus had worked out what he was doing.

“Bloody hard, Tony, but I only found how difficult it was last week after Jim’s press conference. I hadn’t been game to ask Sam before then.

“Deon, your father agonised over what to do for months. I didn’t know. I only saw the stress for the last few weeks of that time, but he’d been worrying about what to do for much longer than that. He had hoped that your mother would find someone else, someone who could love her in a way your father couldn’t. I know that didn’t happen, but he didn’t leave her and then never look back. The first couple of years were the hardest. He was depressed a lot, wondering if he’d made the right choice but knowing there was no going back. He missed you and his other kids the most. He wanted to be there while you grew up, but he couldn’t. Your mother didn’t want him around, and he didn’t want to cause her any more pain. That’s the major reason we’ve stayed in Sydney all these years – to give your mother a chance to live her life without interference.”

“Why did you come back?” Deon’s question lacked his earlier venom.

“Because Sam saw you in that press conference, supporting Jim. Sam had thought you hated him because he was gay, but being there with Jim made him wonder if you’ve changed your mind. We were hoping to spend this weekend finding out.”

Sam started to say something, but Tony saw Marcus stretch out a hand and stop him. The car was quiet almost a minute before Deon spoke up. “Do you follow the footy, Marcus?”

Marcus laughed. “No offence intended, but I’m a rugby man. I don’t usually watch aerial ping-pong.”

Tony smiled as the previous serious discussion had been replaced with some light-hearted banter. He sensed, and he thought Marcus had, too, that Deon had had enough to think about and needed time to absorb what he’d been told.

“Aerial ping-pong? You obviously know nothing about Aussie-rules football.” Deon glanced at Tony. “Can you make sure someone sits with Marcus tomorrow and educates him on a real game?”

Tony chuckled. “I can try, but I’ve heard that too much rugby does something to the brain. There may be no hope for him.”

There were no more stressful conversations for the rest of the drive, though Tony noticed that Sam didn’t say a lot. Deon and Marcus did most of the talking, covering a range of topics, though both steered clear of anything to do with families or relationships.

When they arrived at the hotel where Sam and Marcus were staying, Tony finally got to see Sam’s face. He looked worried, though there may have been a glimmer of hope in his parting glance at Deon before he disappeared inside.