Tigers & Devils (33 page)

“Simon,” Brian Emery nodded at me as I sat before him. “Been quite a few days for you, hasn’t it?”

I didn’t want them to start with accusing me of shirking my responsibilities in the workplace. “Well, the great thing about this job is that there’s still a lot you can do from home. Especially when you have as good an assistant as Nyssa.”

Lucie Andersson peered over at me through her thick-rimmed glasses. “So, the work’s been getting done?”

I calmly counted to three in my head. “Of course. We’re up to speed. We’re exactly at the point we should be. Is there a problem?”

“Simon, don’t be so defensive,” Brian said, putting up his hands and warding me off. “We’re not here to lecture about the way things have been handled lately. After all, your private life is
your
private life.”

I nodded.

“As long as it doesn’t affect the festival,” Lucie made sure to point out as a friendly warning.

Jon Daintry finally spoke up. “Which is why we’re here.”

“I thought you just said you knew the festival hadn’t been affected,” I said. Brian nodded. “We think, perhaps, we can use this to our advantage.”

Why, hello, sinking feeling, my old friend. “How so?”

“Any publicity is good publicity,” Brian said. “If we can get Declan Tyler to attend opening night and a few of the other festivities—”

“Hold on!” I interrupted. “You—”

“It’s no time to get precious, Simon,” Lucie said.

TIGERS AND DEVILS | 231

“Precious?” I asked. “This is my life,
his
life, you’re talking about. He has enough to deal with without me having to parade him around like the ultimate PR accessory.”

“It’s not like we’re asking you to do anything out of the ordinary,” Lucie said. “I mean, you would normally bring your partner to events, wouldn’t you?”

“I haven’t the past couple of years,” I pointed out.

“Were there any partners to bring?” Jon asked.

Actually, there had been, at least in my years as an assistant, but they were never interested enough to attend. I remained silent.

“You like your job, don’t you, Simon?” Brian asked.

I glared at him. “Is that a threat?”

“Not a threat, no. But you can’t deny that this is a perfect opportunity for you to cement your position with the festival. We took a risk hiring you—”

“And it’s paid off,” I said bitterly. “The past couple of years, promotion, sponsorship, and attendance have all increased.”

“Now you have the opportunity to take it even further,” Lucie suggested, not too gently.

The three of them stared me down, as if their combined presence could break me.

“If Nyssa’s as good as you say she is,” Jon said, “she could easily step into your shoes.”

I guess they
were
going to break me.

THEY left me to “think about it”, and “asked” me to have my decision ready by the afternoon.

I sat for the longest time in a funk, hating myself for having to mull it over. If it had been a couple of years ago, I would have told them to go fuck themselves. But since then, I had grown comfortable in a job I enjoyed, obtained a mortgage, and settled down into a false sense of security that I couldn’t bear to lose. Nyssa came to the rescue with constant cups of coffee, and to try and cheer me up, she supplied a Danish at one point that she had grabbed from the café downstairs. And then at twelve, she told me that Declan had called in a rush, unable to get me on my line because I had had it diverted during my meeting with the bosses, and it was busy when he tried again later (I was relating my woes about the job on a conference call to a suitably appalled Roger and Fran). The press conference was going to be in an hour.

“He sounds sexy even on the phone,” she said dreamily.

“You have
no
idea,” I replied just as dreamily. Then I shook myself out of it and switched on the TV. The news breaks were already announcing that Declan Tyler and the Devils had called a press conference, and it was expected that Tyler would “come clean about his recent controversy”.

232 | SEAN KENNEDY

They
wanted
to make it seedy. But I knew Declan would be nothing but classy as he stared them down. Nyssa kept giving me worried glances until I sent her away, although I promised she could come in at one to watch the press conference. I would need the moral support.

It was like Melbourne Cup day, except it was the confirmation of a sports star’s sexuality that would stop a nation rather than a horse race. Ian Roberts, an NRL player, had come out a couple of decades before, but that was rugby.
Nobody
had ever come out while playing AFL. This was history, and I was at the centre of it. Hiding under my desk all the way.

Should I have offered to face the press with him? Did he feel he couldn’t ask me to?

I felt like everything had been taken out of our hands at the moment; we barely had enough face time together to try and discuss these things, everything was going so fast. Perhaps this was going to be Declan’s first step at taking control of his own life and dictating the way he wanted things handled.

Nyssa rushed back into my office at five minutes to one, brandishing rolls and drinks from downstairs for our lunch. “The press have left the premises for the moment,” she told me. “They must have all run over to the Dome for the conference.”

I took my roll off her eagerly. You would have thought I should have been too full of nervousness to eat, but I was starving. “Good for me at least, probably not for Declan.”

“How are you feeling?” Nyssa asked, dragging a chair over to sit next to me.

“Hungry,” I said through a mouthful of food.

Nyssa shrugged, accepting my answer readily. She seemed to be as well, the way she tore into her ham and salad.

On the television screen, a reporter was talking to the anchor back in the studio. You could make out the long table set up with microphones to the right of his shoulder and the banners of the Devils unfurling from the ceiling. The hall was packed with possibly every form of the media and the usual interested members of the public who snuck into these events. Passes were hardly ever checked as long as you had some form of camera around your neck. Just ask Roger. But that’s another story, for another time. A hush fell over the hall as the curtains parted, and the more senior board members of the Devils emerged, followed by the coach, and finally by Declan. The room instantly became an epileptic’s nightmare with constant camera flashes giving it a nightclub-like strobe effect.

“He is
so
hot,” Nyssa said. Again. “I can’t
believe
you’re going out with him.”

“Hey, I’m hot,” I protested.

“No, you’re not. Not Declan Tyler hot.” She realised what she said, and in the manner of the best slapstick comedienne, clapped her hand over her mouth. “You know what I mean.”

“Yeah. I know what you mean,” I sighed.

TIGERS AND DEVILS | 233

She gave me an awkward one-armed hug, almost spilling the contents of her roll over me as she continued to watch the television.

Slightly embittered—really, what was it with
everybody
feeling the need to point out that my boyfriend was so much better looking than me?—I tried to focus upon the situation at hand. Declan was standing and making his way over to the lectern, wearing his best serious face but also chewing at the inside of his cheek.

“Hello,” he said, and he leaned back, probably spooked by the loudness of the microphone. “Thanks for coming today. I have a statement to read.” He cleared his throat and scratched his neck nervously. “Ever since I was a kid, all I have wanted to do is play football. It turned out that, injuries aside, I was pretty good at it. I never expected to get into the official league; it was really just a dream. And I didn’t know when it first happened at the age of eighteen just how much of a public figure you can become, and with that, how much interest there can be in your private life. For the most part, I have managed to keep it pretty private, but lately there have been articles and rumours that I could ignore and deny, but that wouldn’t be true to myself.”

It seemed the press was now waiting with bated breath. Declan looked up, gave a hesitant smile, and then consulted his notes again. Back in the office, Nyssa’s hand suddenly slipped into mine, and I was grateful for it.

“So I come to you today to tell you my own story directly, rather than letting the misconceptions and rumour-mongering of certain members of your otherwise fine profession continue to play out.” He took a deep breath, and I hoped that he was doing the right thing for himself, not because circumstances had forced him into it. “While I have always preferred to keep my personal life private, as that is the way I have been raised, now that questions are being asked I will not hide away from them. I am proud to say that I am gay—”

The room erupted in a low hum of excited chatter amongst the reporters, and the blinding flash of cameras desperate to capture the exact moment on film.

“—and I am very happy in my relationship, which has recently been the topic of discussion and pictorial spreads in the papers.”

“Aww,” Nyssa said, resting her head upon my shoulder. “He’s talking about you.”

“Unless he means his other,
hotter
boyfriend,” I said. She hit me; I winced.

“Neither my sexuality or my efforts, or lack of effort, on the football field make up the whole sum of me. I just hope that by putting an end to this speculation, I can continue on in all facets of my life with a respect for my privacy, and also of my partner’s, whose life has been subjected to speculation and curiosity as well. Thank you.”

Declan left the lectern as the press fired questions at him all at once. The coach of the Devils, Scott Frasier, patted him on the back as he passed him to take the microphone.

“I’m sure you can understand that Declan has said all he needs to say for the moment,” Frasier said, looking more like a deer caught in the headlights than Declan

234 | SEAN KENNEDY

had moments before. “I will take relevant questions from the floor. And I mean
relevant
,” he said, with the glare that made him infamous
and
intimidating in the coaching box.

“Wow,” Nyssa said. “That was quite a good speech.”

“It was, wasn’t it?” I smiled.

“Oh, listen to you, you sound so proud!”

“Of course I am. This is a huge thing he’s done. I just hope he gets the respect for it he deserves.”

“So, when do I get to meet him?”

My mobile rang, and I leapt out of my chair. “Hold that thought.”

I was relieved to see that it was Declan’s mobile. “Hey.”

“Did you see it?” He sounded excited, scared, and relieved.

“I did.”

“What did you think?”

“You want to know what I think?”

“Of course I bloody do!” he laughed.

“I think…,” I teased. “I love you.”

“Sounds good to me,” he couldn’t resist teasing back. “Are you at work?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m coming over before the media follows me.”

When I hung up, Nyssa was looking at me in shock. “Did I just hear you right?”

“What?”

“Say you love him!”

“Oh, Nyssa,” I grinned madly. “That’s old news.”

TRUE to his word, Declan managed to beat the press to the office. Probably because they were still detained at the Dome, trying unsuccessfully to get more details about his love life from the hapless Frasier.

He burst through the office doors, and Nyssa, who was still on red alert, locked them immediately after him and then shyly hung back, suitably awestruck. Declan crossed over to me; I was leaning against Nyssa’s desk, and he pulled me up to him, taking my face in his hands and kissed me rather passionately. In public. With no fear. Still in front of the glass doors, where anybody passing by could have seen within. I liked it.

“Uh, hey, this is Nyssa,” I said, fighting to gain my breath back.

TIGERS AND DEVILS | 235

Nyssa, her eyes wide as she had never seen her boss in any public display of affection, stepped forward and shook Declan’s hand. “Hi, I’m Nyssa. Pleased to meet you. Nyssa. Nyssa Prati.”

“Hi, Nyssa,” Declan said warmly, taking her hand. “Simon has a lot of nice things to say about you.”

“Really?” Nyssa asked suspiciously. “Simon? Saying nice things?
That
Simon?”

Declan turned back to me. “You really have people fooled with this whole pretend hate-the-world thing, don’t you?”

I shrugged. “It works for me.”

“Would you like a coffee, Declan?” Nyssa asked, all charm.

“Thanks, that would be great.”

“I could even make it Irish.” She smiled, looking rather like Fran and, I suspected, myself whenever any of us talked to Declan.

“Why not?” he winked. “Let’s make it a celebration.”

“Come into my office,” I offered.

He nodded and took the few steps from Nyssa’s desk to my tiny room.

“I have a good view—” I said.