“Still a bit understated for you, but at least it’s better than what you’re wearing.”
“I look that bad in this?” I asked.
Declan sat back to fully take me in. “I don’t think you do at all. I think you look brilliant.”
“And yet you’re making me wear something else?”
He kissed me. “Shut up, Simon.”
“But….”
The coffee finally arrived, and it was now Declan’s turn to play model.
LOOKING back, this might have been the moment when it all started turning to shit. Or maybe it was the
Footballers’ Wives
posters that started it. Anyway, everything escalated so quickly that there was hardly time to even recognise what was actually going on. Of course, with hindsight you can say that everything could have been handled
TIGERS AND DEVILS | 317
better on all sides, but it had been building up for a while and a few experiences just made it explode.
But as I started getting ready for the Brownlow ceremony I still felt good, despite the expected nervousness. Declan and I were getting dressed together, and I was feeling a little bit of déjà vu from the year before except this time I wouldn’t be watching Declan get into the limousine with someone other than me.
“Have you decided on your shirt yet?” Declan asked as he buttoned his over his chest.
I threw open the wardrobe again and pulled out a few. “Patty Hearst, Kimba the White Lion, or should I show my true allegiance and wear my Richmond shirt?”
Declan snatched the black and yellow shirt away from me and threw it back into the wardrobe with distaste.
“Okay,” I drawled.
Declan pounced on me and started pulling at my clothes. “Get dressed!”
“You’re actually undressing me,” I pointed out. “But I like it.”
I let myself be manipulated like a doll as he yanked my arms up and pulled my shirt off. I shivered slightly as it was cold in the bedroom, but kept my arms in the air as Dec chose the Kimba T-shirt and pulled it over my head.
“Well, we’re halfway there.” He grinned. “Think I can leave you to do the rest?”
“You can do my pants if you like.”
“Piss off. Get ready.”
He disappeared into the lounge room, and I opened up the robe again to pull out the new shirt I had bought especially for tonight. It was a plain button-down, federation green, and I thought it would look good with the black tie I had also bought. I never thought I would have owned a tie in my life, but there was a first time for everything. Declan came back into the bedroom just as I was smoothing the jacket down, and he pointed at me. “That’s not… wow. You look good.”
So did he. I felt bizarrely like I was going to the school ball. Except finally I was going to the school ball the way I
wanted
, with a date.
“You look
really
good,” Declan said.
“Try not to sound so surprised.”
“Don’t be so surprised if you end up on the best-dressed list this year.”
I laughed. “Flatterer
and
liar! I need to look good when I’m going with tonight’s medallist.”
“Don’t jinx it,” he winced. “I don’t think I’ll win. In fact, I hope I don’t.”
Anybody else, I wouldn’t have believed it. But Declan hated the attention, even more so after the past six months. Before I could say anything, the sound of a horn came from outside.
“That’ll be the limo,” Dec said. “Ready?”
318 | SEAN KENNEDY
He held out his hand, and I took it. “Sure.”
My voice sounded steadier than I was, though.
WE had agreed to share a limo with Abe and Lisa. Lisa was rather raucous when Dec and I climbed into the back of the car with them, and said we both looked delicious. She had already raided the mini-bar, and I was only too happy to help.
“Try and save some room for the open bar at the ceremony,” Abe said affably.
“We’re just steeling ourselves,” Lisa said. “So, Simon, who are you wearing tonight?” She easily slid into the role of the red-carpet presenter. I leaned into the nonexistent microphone in her hand and said rakishly, “Well, I plan to be wearing Declan later, if you know what I mean.”
Dec shook his head while Abe sniggered. “Don’t encourage him.”
My over-exaggerated sense of bravado was quickly extinguished when the limo pulled up to the foyer of Crown Casino.
“We are
not
going after you,” teased Lisa. “We’ll be overshadowed.”
I was glad they were getting out first, although I worried that it gave me a few extra moments to consider jumping out the other door and taking off anonymously into the night.
My thoughts must have been transparent to Declan, as he watched me with concern.
“See you in there,” Abe said jovially, although he knew we were shitting ourselves. Lisa gave us both supportive hand squeezes and then was helped out of the limo by Abe.
“You ready?” Dec asked.
“You don’t need to help me out,” I told him, before his chivalrous side took over. He gave me a withering look. “Really?”
“But stay close.”
He smiled. “We’ll be okay.”
And then I followed him out into the glare.
The photos the next day would show Declan, sleek and confident, ever the pro. And next to him, looking like a rabbit on a country road watching the headlights of an approaching car, me.
I honestly don’t remember much of stumbling down the aisle, watching the photographers jostle for the best angles of us or the fans behind the barriers yelling for Declan’s autograph. Remembering his promise to stay close, Declan ushered me over to the barrier alongside him while he signed whatever Devils merchandise was thrust at him.
“Simon!”
TIGERS AND DEVILS | 319
There was no way in hell that I could have stopped my instantaneous grin. Fran and Roger were pushing their way to the front of the barrier. I moved over to them and was grabbed in a bear hug by both.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, surprised but pleased.
“Moral support, of course,” Fran replied.
“Is it working?” Roger asked.
“Yes!” And I wasn’t lying. The snakes in my stomach had settled somewhat. Declan had now caught sight of them and come over for his own hug.
“I wish I could get you guys in,” he said apologetically.
“Well….” Roger started to say, but he was elbowed by Fran.
“Have fun,” she said, pointing behind us. “It looks like they’re demanding to interview you.”
Dec and I turned to see the red-carpet hosts glaring at us for daring to hold them up.
“Catch up with you later,” Declan nodded.
“Text us when you get out,” Fran yelled after us.
Away from the comforting circle of friends I had to fight against the nausea again. But their presence had emboldened me, and I kept a friendly but neutral smile on my face as Declan and I stepped up to the podium to be interviewed.
“Declan, what do you think your chances are for tonight?” the bland television personality asked.
“It’s up for grabs among quite a few of us,” Declan said modestly.
“Playing it nice,” the host chuckled.
“Not at all.”
“For the viewers at home,” the co-host asked, falling neatly into her required gender-specific role, “who are you wearing tonight, Declan?”
Declan bit the inside of his cheek, suppressing a smile. “A local designer, Keith Ho.”
She then turned to me. “And you, Simon?”
I leaned in to the microphone as if it was Lisa’s hand and said, “The Savers on Sydney Road. Six dollar rack.”
Of course, I had gotten my suit from the same store as Declan. The hosts didn’t know what to make of my answer, so with a brief flash of panic that disappeared quickly beneath the professional façade, she decided to take a different tack. “It’ll be no surprise who you’re hoping will win tonight.”
“Probably not,” I said smoothly.
“Who?” She laughed merrily, pretending she wasn’t in on a game.
“Stephen Burrows from Richmond, of course.”
320 | SEAN KENNEDY
Declan couldn’t keep the laughter in now, especially as both co-hosts’ jaws dropped. “He’s my biggest fan, really,” he said quickly, and he moved us on into the venue.
“How did I do?” I asked innocently.
“You are
evil
,” Declan replied with a straight face. Abe and Lisa were waiting for us just within the doors.
“The two of you are going to be all over the news with that little performance,” Lisa said with a smirk.
“How did you know?” I asked, bewildered.
Abe pointed above his head, where a giant screen was televising the red carpet footage live. “Stephen Burrows will be happy to know that you support him.”
“Yeah,” Declan poked me in the rib. “I could have used your vote.”
“If I could vote, you would have it,” I said grandly.
“Liar, but thanks,” Dec laughed.
We were seated at the same table as many of the Devils players. Anna and a few more of the WAGs greeted us warmly, while Rachel and some of her cronies pretended we didn’t exist. Dec’s teammates were polite to me, but there was a distance I couldn’t help but pick up on even if Declan appeared to be unaware of it. If you think watching the Brownlows at home is boring, it’s even worse when you’re actually attending them. Especially if you’re attending as one of the contender’s dates, because the camera will be on them every time their name is mentioned, and you must look attentive and supportive. Nothing would be worse than the camera catching you yawning or staring into space with a glazed expression or picking your nose; it was expected that Declan’s name would be coming up a lot. My boyfriend was a god of football. Everybody at our table expected him to win, and it wasn’t just because they were his teammates. It seemed to be the general consensus of everybody in the theatre. But a quarter of the way through the count we realised something wasn’t quite right. Dec wasn’t getting the votes that were expected of him for certain games, games where he had even been named player of the day. Dec remained stoic, but I heard Abe hiss beside me and a general rumbling throughout the ranks of the table. During a commercial break Abe leaned over me and said to Declan, “This is bullshit.”
“Cool it, Abe.”
“Seriously, Dec!”
“What do you think’s going on?” I asked Dec in a low voice.
“Nothing,” was his short answer.
“It’s obvious,” said a voice from across the table. I looked up to see Geoff Hendricks staring at me with a snarl that seemed more suited to a villain tying Penelope Pittstop to the railway lines.
TIGERS AND DEVILS | 321
“What is?” I demanded.
“Shut up, Hendricks,” Dec warned.
“What’s he going on about?” I asked Dec.
Dec shook his head, but Geoff continued on. “Notice it’s certain games he isn’t getting votes on?”
I looked at Dec for an answer of some sort, but there was an announcement that we were coming back from commercial break, so we had to put on our pleasantly interested facades again.
Now that Geoff had pointed it out, I began to take notice of the games that Declan neglected to get points for. And the pattern became recognisable very quickly. They were games I had attended. Games where Declan was usually involved in some sort of scuffle.
By the halfway point of the counting, Declan was fifth when he should have at least been second, and it looked like he was going to slip even further down the ladder.
“Come on, boys,” Declan said to the table, trying to lighten the mood. “We can’t expect to win everything.”
“That’s the point,” Geoff said. “We haven’t won
anything
this year. This was the one thing we had in the bag.”
“Well, we obviously didn’t,” Declan replied.
“Wonder why,” Geoff muttered into his beer.
“You got something to say, Hendricks?” Abe asked threateningly. Declan cleared his throat, and Abe drank sullenly from his own beer. The mood didn’t improve, even though Declan managed to get back up to third place. A few more rounds saw him and the other players jump around positions, and in the final few Declan shot from fourth to second, with only one point between him and first.
“That’s it,” Declan whispered to me. “It’s all over.”
“There’s two rounds to go,” I reminded him.
He shook his head. He already knew.
Even though Dec had ended the final round with three goals and a spectacular mark that had given him Player of the Day, I remembered there had been another bust-up on field. Declan didn’t get any points for the round and remained in second place, losing by one point to Francis Bevan.
Declan clapped at the announcement. “He deserves it. He’s a good player.”
Hendricks scowled. “You were meant to win.”
“Well, I didn’t.”
“I’m glad you can be so casual about it.”
“You seem to care enough about it for the two of us,” Dec fired back.