Leopard Spots

Chapter 5

“I’m going to be fine!” Tony glared across the kitchen table at Jim.

Jim stared back impassively. “You didn’t stop throwing up until two in the morning. You still look pale, and to be blunt, you’re still stinking up the house.”

“Yes, I know, and I also know from past experience that the farting will stop in a couple of hours.” Tony gritted his teeth. “I’ll postpone this morning’s meeting, but there’s no reason I can’t go to the club today.”

Ty chose that moment to walk into the room, his nose wrinkled. “What died in here, and who left the outside door open?”

Jim glared. “Stay out of this, brat.”

Ty held up both hands as he took a half step backwards. “I only asked a question.”

Deon slipped over to Ty so he could explain quietly. “Dinner last night wasn’t gluten-free, and Tony’s been up half the night as a consequence. Dad’s feeling guilty, and he doesn’t want Tony to go to work today. The smell is one of the things that happens when Tony eats gluten.”

Ty glanced at where Jim and Tony were still arguing. “Do you know what happened?”

Deon nodded. “Tony worked it out this morning. Dad made the chicken stock for last night’s risotto using stock cubes, but they weren’t gluten-free. Tony’s tried to take the blame for not warning Dad, but you know Jim, he’s not accepting that it was an innocent mistake.”

It was obvious that Deon hadn’t spoken softly enough when Jim turned his glare on Deon. “That so-called innocent mistake had Tony throwing up for half the night, Deon.”

“It was only a couple of hours, not half the night. It’s not the first time this has happened, Jim, and it won’t be the last. I’ll live.” Tony gave Ty and Deon an apologetic smile. “Sorry about the smell, guys. If Jim here will let me go to work, I’ll stop stinking up the place.”

Ty glanced at the kitchen clock. “If you can be ready in five, I’ll drive you over.”

Jim rose to his feet. “Brat, stay out of it!”

Ty crossed his arms. “No.”

Jim narrowed his eyes. “I beg your pardon?”

Ty smiled back. “Tony’s part of the team, Dad. He’s been through this before, and unless you’ve got a medical degree that you haven’t mentioned before, he’s the best one here to judge whether or not he’s capable of working. If you won’t take him, I will.”

“I said stay out of it!”

“And I said no.” Ty glanced at Tony. “Dad’s trying to run out the clock, so get whatever you need and meet me outside.” Ty sniffed and waved a hand in front of his nose. “And if you can get any farts out of the way before getting in my car, it’ll be greatly appreciated.”

Tony stood up and smiled. “Thanks, Ty.” He glanced at Jim. “Don’t forget to take those letters with you. You still need to read them; it’s the least you can do, since they took the time to write to you.”

Jim’s glare alternated between Ty and Tony before he growled and sat down as Tony left the room.

“What letters?” Ty asked.

Jim rolled his eyes. “A bunch of letters that Glenda gave me. They’re all addressed to me via the club. Just another annoyance from being in the public spotlight.”

Ty frowned as he moved over and took the seat that Tony had vacated. Ty wrinkled his nose and then moved to another chair. “It’s not going to be for too much longer. The fact that the photographers have quit is the first sign. Then you can have your life back.”

“I sure hope so, because I’m hating it at the moment.”

Deon couldn’t help grinning. “Does that include Tony?”

Jim looked up. “Aren’t you supposed to be somewhere else by now?”

Deon glanced at the clock. “Not for another thirty minutes. Can I take that as a no?”

Jim stared for a moment and then gave Deon a wry grin. “No, that doesn’t include Tony. Though I’m not happy that I poisoned him last night.”

Tony appeared in the doorway. “That was an accident. Sadly, you’re probably going to have to live through that again because there’s a lot of ways I can end up taking in some gluten without realising it.” Tony screwed up his face before sighing. “If you can’t stand it, I understand.”

Jim’s eyes widened, and he leapt to his feet. “If you mean…” He raced around and grabbed Tony by the biceps. “I…”

The two stood, staring at each other for a few seconds, faces close together, and then Jim pushed his lips against Tony’s. The hands that had been on Tony’s arms slipped around Tony’s back, as Tony dropped the bag he’d been carrying and returned the embrace.

“Ew…yuck. The old folks are getting randy.” Ty picked up Tony’s bag and pushed past the two guys. “I’ll see you in the car, Tony. Don’t be too long.”

Jim ended his kiss and snorted. “He’s a brat.”

Tony rested his head on Jim’s chest for a moment. “But he’s also a good guy. And my ride to work.”

“Are you sure…? I can take you, if you really want to go.”

Tony smiled. “I’m sure. And Ty offered, so it’d be rude to refuse.” He lifted his head to give Jim a quick peck on the lips. “I’ll see you tonight.”

* * *

Charlie smiled when he spotted Karen sitting by herself, nursing a take-away cup of coffee. She had sent him a text message while he was on the train to the city, asking him to join her for a coffee before his first class.

He liked Karen not only because she was Ty’s girlfriend but because she was an interesting person in her own right. Like him, she was doing an Applied Science degree at RMIT, though his was part-time in environmental science and hers was full-time in psychology.

“G’day, Karen. Would you like another?” Charlie asked, waving a hand at her cup.

She smiled up at him. “Hi, Charlie. Yeah, that’d be great. Weak skinny latte, no sugar.”

“I’ll be right back.”

“Don’t take too long. Ellen and Stacey will be here soon.”

Charlie winced. He had been introduced to Karen’s two friends during the week when Ty had been sending Karen some cryptic texts that she wanted him to interpret. That had been after the announcement that one of the club’s major sponsors had withdrawn support but before Jim had come out of the closet.

Charlie didn’t mind Stacey. She was quiet and kept largely to herself. In the three times he had met her, he didn’t think she’d said more than a couple of dozen words apart from greetings. The last time, she’d even given him a small smile.

Ellen, on the other hand, scared him. She was brash and outgoing to the extent that she was intimidating. Charlie had a suspicion that he was her target because Karen had a footballer as a boyfriend, and Ellen was trying to match her.

After ordering and collecting the two coffees, Charlie returned to Karen. He was relieved to see that she was still alone.

“Thanks, Charlie. I’ll get them the next time.”

Charlie smiled. “You don’t need to do that. A cup of coffee isn’t going to break the bank.”

She grinned. “Yeah, but I have to be able to report to Ty that you’re not trying to steal me away from him.”

Charlie’s face went blank. He didn’t like the implication.

Karen winced. “I didn’t mean anything by that, Charlie. I know you’re not. I just don’t want to feel obligated, that’s all. If you don’t believe me, ask Ty what happened on the weekend. Tell him that I said he should tell you.”

Charlie opened his mouth but then closed it without saying anything. Instead, he narrowed his eyes as he tried to read between the lines.

“Charlie, I’m sorry. Ty’s not the only one who can say inappropriate things at times.” Karen reached over and put her hand on his arm. “Forgive me?”

He nodded, though his expression was still wooden.

Karen grimaced and looked away. “Fuck! And I was going to ask you if you wanted to join Ty and me for dinner on Thursday.”

“I’d like that, but is it for any special reason?” Charlie asked, still trying to work out what was going on.

She shrugged. “No special reason. Ty and I have decided we’re going to go out regularly on Thursdays since I work weekend nights. We’re starting this week, and I thought you could join us. You’re the only one of his teammates I get to see regularly, so I thought it would be good to get to know you better.”

Charlie was suspicious. “And it’ll just be the three of us? Or will Jim and Tony be joining us?”

“Jim’s got a TV commitment on Thursday night — The Footy Show I think it was — so no, they won’t be there.” Karen gave him a sheepish smile. “If you want, it can be just the three of us, but I thought I’d invite Stacey along, too. Only if that’s okay with you, though.”

“Not Ellen?”

Karen laughed. “If I’m going to invite you, I want you to enjoy the evening. No, not Ellen.”

“Did Ty suggest this?”

Karen’s expression faded into one of perplexity. “No, this is all my idea. Why?”

Charlie shrugged. He knew from Jarrod that Ty wasn’t happy with him because of the shower situation, but he didn’t want to try to explain that to Karen. He could tell she was getting concerned about all the questions, though, so he smiled at her. “Just asking. Yeah, I wouldn’t mind if Stacey joined us.”

Karen grinned as she glanced past Charlie. “Perfect timing. Here she is.”

Charlie stood up and turned around. He relaxed when he realised that it was only Stacey; Ellen wasn’t with her.

“Hi, Karen, Charlie.” She gave Charlie a small smile before looking away.

“Would you like a cup of herbal tea, Stacey?” Charlie asked “My shout.”

She flicked him a glance. It was quick, but he felt a warm tingle from the possibility that she might be interested in him. “That’d be nice. Jasmine, please.”

Charlie took a couple of steps away but paused when he heard Karen speak to her friend.

“Where’s Ellen?”

Charlie glanced back over his shoulder to see Stacey grinning at Karen as she sat down next to the chair that he had just left. “I must’ve told her the wrong time. My bad.”

* * *

Colin poked his head through the door, his nose wrinkling as he did. “Are you okay, Tony?”

Tony gave him a sardonic stare. “Who contacted you?”

Colin smiled and stepped into the room. “Who do you think?”

Tony grinned back. “Is this a game of only asking questions?”

Colin laughed. “No. Since you obviously know what I’m talking about, Jim sent me a text as I was driving to the office.  He said that he thought you were too sick to go to work, but you had insisted.”

Tony shrugged. “Coeliac disease strikes again. I wasn’t good last night, but I’m fine now.” A look of discomfort appeared on his face for a moment. “Well…fine-ish. I’ve had worse, and it’s not stopping me from working. I had to postpone my meeting this morning, but that’s all.”

“You know you could take time off if you needed. After all you’ve done over the last week, no one would say anything.” Colin sat down in Tony’s visitor’s chair next to his desk.

“I wasn’t sure if I’ve been here long enough to accrue any sick leave, but even so, I knew I’d be fine by lunchtime. I just needed to work by myself for the morning so I don’t bother other people.”

Colin shrugged. “For the record, you’ve been here long enough for a couple of days of sick leave if you needed it. I thought you might wonder, so I checked with Anne before I came in. You did warn me of the possibility when I interviewed you for the job, but I’ll admit I didn’t expect it to happen this soon.”

Tony chuckled. “I didn’t either. It’s part of the hazard of having a new boyfriend, something I hadn’t expected when we had that interview. He wanted to cook me a meal — and it was fantastic by the way — but I hadn’t told him enough for him to make sure it was gluten-free.”

Colin nodded towards Tony’s computer. “Since you didn’t go visiting this morning, what are you working on?”

Tony grimaced. “I was working on the school-clinic-program schedule for May, but I got sidetracked by an email and a text message.”

Colin raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

Tony glanced out the open window and then turned back to his boss. “A situation has cropped up, and I’m not sure what to do about it. I was going to talk to you this afternoon after I’d had a chance to organise my thoughts.”

“Since I’m here…”

Tony pulled a face and then sighed. “One of the donors from the weekend is flying down from Sydney to see the game on Saturday and has asked if he could meet with the players afterwards. He’s flying in on Friday night, and yesterday I sent him an email offering to pick him and his partner up from the airport. This morning he accepted the offer.”

Colin’s forehead creased. “And the problem is…?”

“It appears that the donor in question is Deon’s father, the one who left his mum almost ten years ago to go to Sydney to live with his gay lover. All the indications are that he’s coming here to see Deon again. I could be wrong, and the names could just be a coincidence, but I don’t think so.”

Colin blinked a few times as he tried to make sense of what he’d been told. He knew that Deon was raised by his mother, but he hadn’t known why his father had left them. “Does Deon know?”

Tony grimaced. “Yes. I told him last night when I realised who it probably was. I wasn’t sure if I should, but it seemed wrong to let his father meet him after the game without any warning — especially since I’d just been told that Deon has been refusing to speak to his dad for the last few years. I don’t think he wants people to know about his dad, and if he showed up unexpectedly in the clubroom after the game, it mightn’t’ve been pretty.”

“Ah…” Colin paused as he reflected on the situation. “I think you did the right thing in telling Deon. It gives him the option to become scarce after the game if he doesn’t want to see this man. And if it’s not his father, no harm done.”

Tony grunted. “That brings me to the text message I got a little while ago. Deon wants to go to the airport with me on Friday night.”

Colin winced. “Ouch. I’m not sure that’ll be the best thing to do. The last thing the club needs is a public fracas at the airport involving one of our players.”

“Deon promised to be good, but…”

“What time does the flight get in? Maybe the timing won’t work out, given Deon will be training Friday night.”

Tony shook his head. “No such luck. The flight gets in just after nine-thirty. There will be just enough time for Deon to train, get changed, and then head to the airport. Before this cropped up, I had thought about taking Jim with me since he was supposedly the major reason for getting the donation in the first place, but now I’m not so sure. If it really is Deon’s father, the donation could be for him. I could take Jim anyway, but with Deon, that will mean five people in my car, and it’ll be too cramped. It doesn’t make sense to take two cars, so it gets back to whether to just tell Deon no or to take him and hope everything works out.”

“What’s your gut feeling?” Colin asked.

Tony grimaced. “I don’t really know. I’m concerned about Deon causing a scene at the airport, but if he’s asked to meet his father after avoiding him for years…” Tony shrugged.

“That’s your brain speaking. What do you feel is the right answer?”

“To take him. It’s a risk, but Deon made the offer. Deon seems to be mature enough to keep himself under control.”

Colin nodded. “Maybe he’s decided he needs to see his father again, and this gives him an hour or more to have a semi-private conversation while you drive them to wherever they’re staying.” Colin raised an eyebrow. “Where are they staying?”

“In Ringwood. That way they won’t have a long trip to the game on Saturday.”

“Okay, then. You take Deon on Friday night, and we’ll both keep our fingers crossed that nothing happens at the airport.” Colin shook his head. “Life is certainly interesting with you around.”

Tony’s eyes opened wide. “It’s not my fault!”

Colin laughed as he stood up. “I never said it was. And I wasn’t complaining; I like things to be interesting as long as they don’t go pear-shaped.”

* * *

Jim was frowning at the letter in his hand when his boss entered the sports store’s small staffroom.

“If you’ve finished, Jim, I’m hungry and wouldn’t mind some lunch.” Mr. O’Grady paused as he took in Jim’s expression. “Is there something wrong?”

Jim shrugged. “Not wrong…just a decision I have to make.”

“Something to do with what you’re holding?”

“Yeah…” Jim shook his head and looked up at his boss and owner of O’Grady’s Sports. “I got a letter from a high-school guy, and it’s given me a problem.”

“A letter? I thought you young folk did everything by email nowadays.” Mr. O’Grady took the chair on the opposite side of the small table.

Jim chuckled. “Another thing I have to decide: whether to have a public email address. I don’t at the moment, so this guy sent me a letter instead.”

“Sounds like he’s pretty keen to get in touch with you, then. From the way you’re acting, it must be about something important.”

“Yes and no.” Jim’s mouth twisted, unsure as to whether he wanted to smile or frown. “He’s asking if I could be part of the clinic the Leopards will be running at his school next term. He wants me there to show the other guys at school that it’s okay to be gay.”

Mr. O’Grady nodded slowly. “Sounds like a reasonable suggestion. You’re a good man, Jim, and while you gave me quite a shock with your news, I’ve no complaints about you or your work. What’s the problem?”

Jim stared at the letter. “The problem is that it is a good idea. I don’t want to be any sort of role model, but if there had been someone around when I was in school…” Jim shook his head and looked up to meet his boss’s gaze. “I don’t want to be responsible for helping guys like Liam, but I can’t help remembering what it was like in school for me. I think I need to do this for them because I don’t want others to go through what I did.”

“I agree, but I still don’t see what all the fuss is about.” Mr. O’Grady cocked his head. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

Jim gave him a sheepish grin. “Yeah… The players who go on the school clinics are those that don’t have strong work commitments because they need a lot of flexibility with their time. I can’t commit to the school clinics and still be working here…”

Mr. O’Grady smiled. “You’re trying to decide if you should quit. I’ll just say that while I’ll miss you if you leave, I understand if there’s something else you feel you should be doing. You’ll have my thanks for all your hard work and my best wishes for the future.”

Jim grinned sheepishly. “Thank you. You’ve been great to me over the last couple of years, and I don’t want to leave, but I was feeling guilty about not helping Liam and others like him while also feeling guilty about leaving you in the lurch.”

Mr. O’Grady shrugged. “The next school term isn’t for another month, so I’ve got time to find someone else to employ before you have to leave. If this is what you really want to do, I don’t want to hold you back.” He smiled. “Take some more time to think about it, but I’ll put up a sign in the window today looking for another staff member.”

“Thanks, sir. That makes me feel a lot better.” Jim stood up. “I’ll mind the store while you have your lunch.”

“Just a second before you go.” Mr. O’Grady frowned at Jim. “What about money? I know you guys don’t earn a lot at the club; that’s why you’re working here. Is this going to leave you short-changed?”

Jim smiled. “I’ll speak to Tony later today about alternative sponsorships. I think he can find one that will leave me time to do the clinics. If he can, then that’s what I think I should do.”

“Should do…or want to do?” Mr. O’Grady gave Jim a half smile.

Jim grinned back. “Both. Thanks again. I really appreciate this.”

Mr. O’Grady waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. I’m a better person for having known you, and I’ve certainly gotten my money’s worth from all your hard work. If you need anything from me in the future, just let me know.”

Jim smiled and nodded his thanks. “And if you need me for anything, such as helping out on a Thursday night or Saturday morning, just tell me and I’ll be there.”

* * *

Peter glanced up as his assistant coach entered his office. “What’s up, Julie?”

She sat down opposite his desk. “A couple of things. The first is what you were asking about near the end of the game on Saturday: how to make sure we don’t weaken our defensive line too much while strengthening our forwards. I’ve got an idea.”

Peter raised an eyebrow and leant back in his chair. “Go on.”

“Our defensive core is Todd, Paul, Ward, and Ty. Taking Ty out still leaves a solid trio, but it’s vulnerable if one more is out, from injury or simply from having a bad game. We’ve talked about Jarrod being a part-time defender, concentrating on his speed, but he’s only really useful in speciality situations where we have an opponent who is beating our defenders with speed rather than size and strength.”

“We’ve discussed this before, Julie.”

“I know, but bear with me, Peter.” She took a breath. “Jarrod’s fast, but he’s also one of our shortest players. He’s no replacement for someone tall, like Ty. Jim’s between the two; he’s taller, though not as fast as Jarrod, but he’s able to read the play as well as anyone. He uses his brains to get into position to bring the opposition’s momentum to a halt. He’s already played as a part-time defender. How about whenever Ty moves to the forward line, we drop Jim back as a defender.”

Peter shook his head. “No. Absolutely not unless there’s no choice. Jim’s strengths are as a midfielder, and, more importantly from my perspective, where Ty can see him.”

Julie blinked. “Pardon me, sir?”

Peter grinned. “I told you, the name’s Peter, not ‘sir’.”

Julie gave him a sheepish grin. “Sorry. Old habits.” She frowned. “Why do you want Jim where Ty can see him?”

Peter turned to his laptop and brought up a spreadsheet. He turned it around to show Julie. “Here’s the statistics from the practise matches on interactions between our players, sorted by frequency. Have a look at the sixth line.”

Julie read the two names. “Jim and Ty. I’m not sure what you’re getting at, Peter.”

Peter turned the laptop back to face him. “It’s all to do with progressing the ball down the ground. The top four places on that list are within a zone. Ty to Jim is the second pair on that list that goes between our midfielders and either our defenders or forwards, just behind the Dave to Roger interaction. They’re a major method of getting the ball from the backline to the midfield. I’m not sure if you noticed, but that combination was also the start of the final play on Saturday — the play that led to Deon’s winning goal. Even when Ty played part of one practise match on the forward line, the Jim-to-Ty interaction was still prominent. They each seem to know almost instinctively where the other will be, and they play accordingly. I can only see that situation improving. I want them to be able to interact when they’re playing, and they can’t do that if they’re positioned at opposite ends of the ground.”

Julie nodded slowly. “I understand. I hadn’t picked up on that. I’ve been concentrating more on the midfielders as a group and not as much on their interactions at either end.”

Peter smiled. “It’s not something I normally give a lot of weight to, but I’m sensing something special between those two, and I want to encourage it. Sorry, Julie, but Jim’s going to continue to be only a part-time defender. He’s most useful to us as a midfielder.”

“Okay, it was only a suggestion.”

“And it was a good one. Just not one I want to use.” Peter smiled. “You’re on the right track, though. We need someone else to cover things in defence when Ty’s not there. The problem is picking who. We don’t have anyone else who already has the appropriate skills, so we’re going to have to train someone up, which takes them from somewhere else…you know what I mean.”

Julie grimaced. “Yeah, I do. I had the same problem when I was coaching the Broncos at times. Not quite enough players with the appropriate skills to cover an emergency.”

“Exactly. Training someone into a part-time-defender role for when we move Ty is going to take time, and it’s not something I want to be doing during the season. I just don’t see that we have a choice. I’m intending to make the decision on who that will be by the end of this week, so if you’ve got any other suggestions, please let me know.”

“I’ll think about it, Peter.” Julie started to gnaw on her lower lip.

Peter frowned. “You mentioned two things. What’s the other one?”

“Dave.”

“Ah…” Peter glanced away for a moment before turning back to his assistant coach. “I’m giving him a week. Unless he goes completely off the rails before then, I’m not taking any action beyond what I’ve currently done.”

Julie looked worried. “Sorry, Peter, but you haven’t told either Will or me what that action is. Is there something you can tell me? As the midfielder coach, Dave’s my responsibility.”

Peter pulled a face while he thought. “Dave’s taking some medication that may help with his temper. He only started this week, so I want to give it a chance to make a difference. I can’t give you any details — sorry.”

Julie nodded. “Okay. I’ll give him until the start of next week.”

“Don’t let anything major slide. If he does something stupid, act. If you need to, call me over and I’ll do whatever needs to be done. He knows he’s being watched, so hopefully he’ll be on his best behaviour at training tonight. He’s been warned that his position on the team is at stake, but I want to give him a chance to turn around.”

“Okay, Peter. Thanks.” Julie started to stand, but stopped when Peter help up a hand.

“While I’ve got you here, are there any things you want covered in tonight’s training session apart from the usual?”

Julie frowned. “There’s one thing that’s been bothering me, but I don’t know if it’s a concern or not.”

Peter raised an eyebrow.

“I’ve noticed that a number of players are getting sloppy with their catching of the ball. They’re all catching fine, but in wet conditions, with a slippery ball, some of them will be fumbling if their technique doesn’t improve. It may be nothing and they’ll be fine under wet conditions, but I don’t like how the standards are slipping.”

Peter nodded slowly. “I’ll keep an eye out for it. Unless you think it’s urgent, we won’t do anything tonight, but we might keep it in mind for one of next week’s sessions.”

Julie smiled as she stood up. “Sounds fine to me. I haven’t seen the guys under wet conditions yet, so I don’t know how they’ll handle it. That’s why I haven’t said anything before now.”

Peter frowned up at her. “I’ve got two assistant coaches not only to help with the training but also to try to catch things that I might otherwise miss. You’ve got a different view on things, Julie, especially with your background as the Broncos’ coach, and I want to hear what you think. I don’t care if ninety percent of the times I already know it; the ten percent when I don’t will make it all worthwhile. This is one of those ten percenters. Thank you.”

Julie flinched as she accepted the mild rebuke. “I’ll remember for next time.” She grinned. “Hopefully you won’t regret what you’ve just asked me to do.”

Peter laughed. “As long as you’re doing your job, everything will be fine.”

* * *

Tony picked up his phone and dialled a number from memory. He had a smile on his face with the anticipation he was going to make a couple of people very happy.

“G’day, Tony. What can I do for you this fine afternoon? Ready to come back here to Pride FM?”

Tony grinned as his old boss jokingly tried to entice him back to the radio station he had worked at for over two years. “Sorry, Keith, but I’m happy here. However, if you’re still interested in sponsoring one of our players, I can drop around sometime soon to discuss it.”

“You’ve got someone suitable?” Keith Sutherland’s surprise and excitement came through loud and clear. “I thought you said it was unlikely in the short term.”

“Something’s come up, and one of the players has to drop his sponsor to free himself up to do other things. He’s asked me to see if I can find him an alternative that will give him the flexibility to become involved with the Leopards’ school-clinic program. I thought Pride FM may be interested, though we’ll need to work out the terms and conditions to make sure he’ll be free to do the other work he wants to do.”

“He won’t be free most of the time? Is that what you’re telling me, Tony?” Keith’s lack of enthusiasm was clear.

“Sorry, no. He’ll certainly be available for some things, but he wants to focus his time on the school program and other similar activities.”

“In that case, I think we’ll have to pass. Sorry, Tony, but while we’re happy to sponsor a player, we do want to get something out of it, too. We don’t have the money to just give it away.”

Tony grinned, though he made an effort to keep the amusement out of his voice. “Okay, thanks anyway, Keith. I’ll let Jim know you’re not interested.”

“Wait…who? Did you say ‘Jim’?”

Tony grin broadened. “That’s right. He wants to get more involved in community activities, showing young guys that it’s okay to be gay. But if you can’t help him…”

Keith started speaking quickly. “Now, I didn’t say that. I’m sure we can come to some sort of arrangement.” There was a short pause. “Tony, I don’t need to tell you that you’re a bastard for not telling me who it was at the start of the conversation. You set me up, and I’m sure you’ll be laughing your head off once we hang up. Of course we’re keen to sponsor Jim, and we’ll support his efforts to educate people. I just need to speak to some people here to work out what we can do. The board will never approve of us sponsoring Jim if we don’t get something back in return; we’re not a charity. How about I come out to see you tomorrow and we can discuss some options? We want this to be a win-win for everyone.”

Tony chuckled. “Thanks, Keith. I’m sure we can work this out. I’m free between ten and one tomorrow, or after four. When will suit you?”

“How about lunch? If Jim’s available, he can join us. I’ll be at the club just before twelve.”

Tony nodded. “Sounds good. I’ll let Jim know, and hopefully both of us will be there.”

“Okay, I’ll see you then.”

After ending the call, Tony sat back in his chair and started organising his thoughts. He needed to prepare Jim for the likely sponsorship requirements that Keith would present the next day. Tony didn’t expect any of them to be onerous, but it was best to be ready.

* * *

Charlie was concentrating on the drill. It was close to the end of training, and he was still working to pick up the midfielder skills that he now needed.

He had no concerns over the decision to shift him from the forward position he’d played in the TAC Cup as a seventeen-year-old to that of a midfielder. The requirements were different, and he had a learning curve to overcome, but he enjoyed his football, and the change appeared to promise more game time.

He’d learnt the basic skills playing junior football. It was taking those skills to the next level that was the challenge, but that next level was what was required if he wanted to continue playing VFL. The standard of the competition was a lot higher than he’d expected when he joined the Leopards, and he was finding it daunting. He wasn’t going to give up, but he knew he had a long way to go before he could be considered a seasoned player.

“More effort, Charlie! Don’t let him push you out of position!” Julie yelled.

Charlie gritted his teeth. They were doing a drill on contested possession, and Charlie’s opponent was Dave. He had a fresh appreciation for how tough the big guy was as well as an understanding why Dave had been terrorising the other teams. It had been a natural reaction to back off slightly and let Dave take the ball rather than find himself face down in the grass again.

Seconds later, Charlie found himself with a face-full of grass, again.

“Careful, Dave! Back off a touch; we don’t want anyone hurt out there!”

Charlie let Dave help him up, but Charlie could see no reaction on his face to Julie’s admonishment. Dave’s expression was still one of steely determination, and he didn’t speak: his only acknowledgement of Charlie’s thank you was an almost animalistic grunt, accompanied by a single nod of the head.

Ten minutes later, training ended prematurely. Dave’s aggressive tackle pushed Charlie’s left arm backwards as the two tumbled to the ground. Charlie landed on that arm and felt a sudden sharp jolt in the shoulder. He tried to roll over, but stopped immediately as a jab of pain let him know that something was seriously wrong.

“Charlie?” Julie’s was the first voice raised, but it was quickly followed by others as the players abandoned their drills and converged on where he was still lying.

“Back off, guys, and let me through!” Julie’s authoritative tone opened up a space, and she was soon kneeling next to him. “Tell me what’s wrong, Charlie.”

“My shoulder…” Charlie waved his right hand in the direction of his other arm. “It hurts to move my arm.”

Julie’s fingers were gentle as she pushed his sleeveless training jumper aside to give her better visibility of the affected area. She glared over her shoulder. “Out of my light, Zach!”

“Sorry.”

“Has anyone gone for the first-aid kit?” Julie asked while probing lightly around Charlie’s left shoulder.

“Jarrod’s on his way. Ollie’s gone inside to fetch Jackie or Mark,” Zach said, referring to the club’s two physiotherapists.

Julie sat back on her heels. “The good news is that it doesn’t look like a break. We’ll wait before we try to move you, but we’ll put your arm in a sling as soon as Jarrod gets here.”

Charlie winced. “Does that mean I’m out for Saturday?”

“Sorry, Charlie, but I think so.” Julie glanced up at Peter, who gave her a sombre nod of agreement. “Hopefully it’s just a minor tear in the ligament. Mark or Jackie will be able to check it out if that’s the case and let us know what to do next.”

Dave was distressed as he knelt down next to Julie. “I’m sorry, Charlie. I really am. I…”

Julie scowled. “Dave, back off and give him space. Why don’t you run a few laps to cool off? I’d suggest at least ten.”

Charlie caught Dave’s expression of anguish before his housemate stood up and moved away. He saw Dave shake off a couple of the players that tried to express some sympathy before he started his run.

A couple of minutes later, Jackie was smiling down at him. “Okay, Charlie, let’s get you into a seated position, and then we’ll put that arm in a sling.”

* * *

Dave glanced down the length of the change room towards the entrance to the communal-shower area. He could hear the sound of most of the team talking whilst they cleaned up after the truncated training session. He had come in late after completing close to double the number of laps that Julie had told him because he hadn’t wanted to enter the change room while the rest of the team was likely to be there. While running, he’d seen Jackie escorting Charlie to her car and the two heading off, presumably to see a doctor for further checks.

He told himself that everything would be fine and there was no reason he couldn’t join everyone else. In response, he felt an almost debilitating sense of guilt and panic.

He tried to fight it. He knew it was irrational. Accidents happen, and while he had been overly aggressive during the exercise, he hadn’t been malicious. There was no reason for him to avoid the rest of the team.

It didn’t work. Minutes later, Dave had bundled up his gear and was heading to his car. He felt it was better for him to be by himself.

* * *

Owen joined Jarrod as he finished putting his football gear into his bag.

“Do you want to share a cab or bum a ride off someone else?” Owen asked.

Jarrod stared for a moment and then frowned. “Dave’s gone?”

Owen nodded. “I’m not really surprised. I think we need to start bringing two cars to training until,” he lowered his voice as he glanced around to make sure no one was near them, “Dave’s problems are sorted out.”

“What do you think about what he did to Charlie?” Jarrod asked quietly.

Owen grimaced. “From what I heard, it was an accident, but it shouldn’t have happened if Dave had been taking more care.”

“I saw it. Dave had been bumping and throwing Charlie hard all through the exercise. Julie had told him to take it easy at one point, but that warning didn’t last.”

“He’s out of control.”

Jarrod sighed. “Yes. If there’s any good that’s come out of this, it may be that Charlie’s injury has made Dave realise the same thing. He looked distraught while Julie was doing first-aid on Charlie, and I think he was feeling guilty.”

“I hope he hasn’t gone home to drink himself into a stupor again.” Owen stiffened. “Or worse.”

Jarrod’s jaw dropped as he realised what Owen was implying. “He wouldn’t…would he?” He grabbed his bag. “Come on, let’s go.”

“I don’t think so, but I really don’t know what he’s capable of doing at the moment.” Owen looked around and then headed across the change room towards Roger, Jarrod in tow. “Roger, we need a lift home. I know it’s out of your way, but we’re concerned about Dave.”

Roger frowned as he glanced at both Owen and Jarrod. A second later, he nodded. “Grab Charlie’s gear, too. I’ll send Jackie a text so she can tell Charlie we’re taking his stuff back to your place.”

Five minutes later, the three were in Roger’s car — Owen in the front seat and Jarrod sandwiched between the two child booster seats in the rear.

“Do you guys have any idea of what’s going on with Dave?” Roger asked as he drove out of the car park.

Owen shrugged. “I really don’t know. He’s been edgy for a few weeks, but he’s gone overboard recently. At first I thought it was just disappointment with some girl that he’d been keen on, but now…” Owen shook his head. “No idea.”

Roger glanced at the rear-view mirror, catching Jarrod’s eye. “Jarrod?”

“Same here. He needs help, but I don’t know why.”

Roger pulled a face. “Do either of you know much about this girl or what happened there?”

“Sorry, no,” Jarrod said.

“No. Just that he was keen on her, but a couple of days later when he tried to see her again, she refused. He’s been in a crazy mood ever since,” Owen said.

Roger nodded slowly. “Do you remember when that was?”

“A few weeks ago. I remember it was a Wednesday because I was called in to replace Dave at work.” Dave and Owen job-shared, with Dave working three days a week and Owen two. “Does it matter?”

“It might.” Roger gnawed on his lower lip for a moment. “Would that have been the week that Tony started work, by any chance?”

Owen looked thoughtful. “I think it was, but I’m not a hundred percent sure.” He frowned. “You think it’s linked? It can’t be. Dave’s not homophobic!”

Roger glanced to the side. “I never said he was, but I wonder if he came on too strongly with that girl, trying to be too macho.”

Owen snorted. “Dave’s tough, but he’s not the sort to act like that with the girls.”

“Unless he feels his masculinity is being threatened.” Roger sighed. “He’s certainly been playing and training like he wants to prove how tough he is. To prove that he’s not weak. If that’s the case…why?”

“No idea, but you’ve got a point.” Owen glanced back at Jarrod. “What about you?”

“I’ve only known him a few months, so I don’t know what’s typical for him. He’s certainly acting strange, but…” Jarrod shrugged.

Roger started speaking slowly, as if he was feeling out the words as he spoke. “What do you think about the possibility that Dave’s so deep in the closet that coming out scares him?”

Owen shook his head emphatically. “Absolutely not. If that were true, I can see him being scared by Tony, but now that’s Jim come out, he’s got no reason to be worried. He knows we’ll all support him.”

“True, but it’ll explain why he won’t take showers with the team anymore. He doesn’t want any temptation.” Roger pulled a face. “I don’t like the theory, either, but it seems to fit. It doesn’t explain everything, but it would explain a lot.”

“I can understand the wanting to be macho part, a bit,” Jarrod said, “because I used to think of gay as meaning weak. It was the way guys talked about it in the schoolyard. I know better now because Tony and Jim have both shown that that’s wrong. I have to wonder, though, if Dave really is gay, wouldn’t he know that it was wrong, too?”

“Not if he was in denial. That would mean not wanting to learn anything about it,” Roger said.

“But he has to know better now!” Owen said. “It doesn’t make sense.”

Jarrod was thoughtful. “If he had built his life on the assumption that being gay was being weak, Tony and Jim would’ve thrown him into a loop. Could that be why he’s acting so erratic? His life’s been turned upside down, and he’s struggling to make sense of it all.”

Roger pulled into Lowfield Place and pulled up outside the house where Owen, Dave, Charlie, and Jarrod lived. Dave’s car was in the driveway. “Do you want me to come inside?”

Owen glanced back at Jarrod who shrugged his shoulders.

“Yeah, if you won’t mind.” Owen grimaced. “At least until we see what sort of mood he’s in.”

The three headed to the front door, Owen first, then Roger, with Jarrod carrying Charlie’s gear in addition to his own bringing up the rear. Owen opened the door and he and Roger went in.

When Jarrod entered the house, Roger and Owen were returning from the lounge room.

“He must be in his bedroom,” Owen said.

The three headed down the hallway. Roger and Owen stopped outside Dave’s door while Jarrod headed into Charlie’s to drop off his gear.

Owen banged on the door. “Dave, open up!”

“Go away!”

“Dave, open the fucking door!”

“Fuck off and leave me alone!”

A piece of paper on Charlie’s bed caught Jarrod’s eye. He read the note and then hurried back to Roger and Owen. “Guys, you need to see this.”

Jarrod led them back to Charlie’s room and he pointed at the bed. Roger and Owen walked over and stopped as soon as they could see the paper.

It only had two words on it: I’m sorry.

* * *

Charlie waved goodbye to Jackie as she backed out of the driveway and drove away into the night. Shivering slightly, as he was still in his football shorts and sleeveless jumper, he headed up the pathway. The front door of the Lowfield Place house opened as he approached.

“Charlie!” Jarrod glanced at the sling supporting Charlie’s left arm as he stepped aside so his housemate could enter. “What’s the verdict?”

“A partial tear of one of the shoulder ligaments. Andrew said I’m going to be out of action for at least a couple of weeks, but it could’ve been worse.”

Owen was standing by the entrance to the lounge room. “You said ‘at least’. How long could it be for?”

Charlie started to shrug, then thought better of it. That movement probably wouldn’t have disturbed the injury, but he wasn’t sure.

“If the ligament had torn completely, it would’ve been more like six or eight weeks, but Andrew is pretty confident it’s only a partial tear. I just need to let it heal, and then I should be fine to resume playing. Andrew said it’ll be between one and three weeks for that to happen.  I’ll know when, because I’ll regain full movement in the arm. He said if it’s more than three weeks, there’s something else wrong or I haven’t been letting it rest properly. Jackie’s starting physio on my shoulder tomorrow morning and will be monitoring it regularly until she gives the okay to start training again.”

“Well come in and sit down. I’m guessing you’re hungry.” Owen waved a hand towards the kitchen.

Charlie grinned. “Starved.”

“We weren’t sure when you’d be back, so I made a curry that’s easy to reheat. Give me a couple of minutes and I’ll have it ready for you,” Owen said.

“Thanks, mate.” Charlie frowned down at his arm in the sling. “Cutting food is going to be off the cards for a while, so no more steak on Thursday nights until I’m better.”

“It’s not a big deal for someone to cut your steak for you, Charlie.” Jarrod grinned as he led the way into the kitchen. “But I understand if it makes you feel like a little kid.”

Charlie laughed, and then winced at the pain from his shoulder. “Yeah, it would.” He glanced around. “Where’s Dave?”

The smiles on his housemates’ faces disappeared in an instant as they exchanged glances.

“What’s wrong?” Charlie pulled out a chair and sat down at the table where a plate and fork had already been laid out for him.

Jarrod pulled a face. “Can we discuss this later? Eat your dinner and then get changed; maybe have a shower, first.”

Charlie stared at the two for a moment. “Is he okay? Has he disappeared?”

Owen grimaced while he put a bowl of food in the microwave. “He’s in his room — with the door locked. He won’t talk to us, but he might talk to you.” He looked away. “Leave it for now, Charlie. Get some food into your stomach first.”

Charlie didn’t like the sound of that.

* * *

Charlie knocked on the bedroom door. “Dave? It’s Charlie.”

There were some noises from within the room but no response. “Dave, can we talk?”

The door opened, and the first thing that caught Charlie’s attention was Dave’s haggard face. The second was that Dave wasn’t making eye contact.

Dave didn’t say anything, but he stood aside and let Charlie enter the room. Charlie paused in the doorway as he surveyed the room before he entered and sat down on the edge of the unmade bed.

Normally, Dave’s room was fairly neat. Not perfect, but tidy with a lived-in feel. That night, the room was a mess. There were clothes scattered around the floor, and Dave’s collection of football magazines was strewn in a corner next to the desk where they usually lived.

“I’m sorry, Charlie.”

Charlie stared up at his housemate who hadn’t moved after closing the door. Dave’s gaze was still downcast, and his shoulders were slumped.

“It was an accident, Dave.”

Dave grimaced. “An accident waiting to happen.”

“Dave…”

Dave finally met Charlie’s gaze, and Charlie immediately regretted it. The look in Dave’s eyes was of someone who was desperate and lost, and Charlie didn’t know what to do.

“Charlie, I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Peter told me I’m out of control. He’s right. Look at what I’ve done to you!”

“Dave, you need some help. You need to let someone help you. Jarrod, Owen, and I will do whatever we can, but you need a professional.”

Dave lowered his eyes and nodded. “I’ve got an appointment with a psychologist next week. I couldn’t get one any earlier.”

Charlie stood up and moved over to his housemate. He put his good hand on Dave’s shoulder, noting the flinch that resulted in that contact. “It’s a start. Are you able to tell me what’s going on? You don’t have to, but maybe it’ll help.”

Dave grunted. “Can we sit down?”

“Sure.” Charlie returned to the bed while Dave pushed the pile of clothes on his desk’s chair onto the floor and sat down on it backwards, resting his elbows on the back of the seat.

“It started a few weeks ago when I started having trouble sleeping. I don’t know why, but I kept waking up in the middle of the night. Then, last week, I started having a nightmare. The same nightmare two nights in a row…”

Charlie frowned. Dave was staring at the clothes on the floor, but Charlie sensed he was seeing something else.

“That’s when I tried drinking myself to sleep. It worked, but I had to work hung over the next day.” Dave lifted his head enough to give Charlie a wry smile. “Not the best way of getting to sleep, but at least I didn’t have that nightmare.” He dropped his eyes again. “I then went and got a prescription for sleeping pills from Andrew. I had hoped that my problem was just that I wasn’t getting enough sleep, but I’ve been sleeping soundly ever since, and I’m still…” He shook his head.

“What was the nightmare about?” Charlie asked as gently as he could.

Dave swallowed noticeably. He looked up and caught Charlie’s eye. “This is just between the two of us? You can’t tell anyone else!”

Charlie was afraid that it might be a mistake or that he may be forced to break the promise, but he nodded his head.

“The nightmare starts in the club showers. I’m there by myself when I get thrown to the ground. I look up, and I see him looming over me. He’s got an evil grin on his face. He says…he says…”

Charlie waited until it was clear that Dave wouldn’t — or couldn’t — say anything more. “What did he say, Dave?”

Dave didn’t appear to hear him. “I was all alone. It was just me and him. He…he…” Dave’s body shuddered and Charlie saw streaks of light reflecting from the tears streaming down his housemate’s face.

Charlie stiffened as he guessed what Dave was trying to tell him, knowing that the nightmare was having too much impact to be just a bad dream. He couldn’t stop himself from asking one more question, a question he knew was a mistake as soon as he asked it.

“Who?”

Dave looked up, his face drawn and pale. “Jim. It was Jim…”

Disclaimer: Some public figures have been included in this story for effect. This is fiction, and the words and actions of those characters are mine and not those of the real person. All other individuals depicted are fictional, and any resemblance to real persons is purely coincidental.

I would like to thank trebs, C James and MikeL for the advice they gave on early versions and rec for editing this story for me. A special thank you to ricky for that crucial final review before publication.

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