by Sean Kennedy
“With them, yes. And you don’t know a wedge heel from a stiletto.”
“I know stilettos are good for stabbing people with.”
Lisa grinned. “Be sure to slip that into the conversation.”
We began crossing over from Harbour Esplanade towards Etihad, where a crowd was already milling for the game.
“We should have gone for a drink first,” I moaned.
“You can buy me a beer once we get inside.”
“Are you kidding? I have a mortgage. I can’t afford game-price beer.”
I wasn’t sure if I was being paranoid, but I felt like I was being recognised as Lisa and I walked through the throng of people. Not by everybody, but there seemed to be a few people who nudged each other and looked in our direction. I had been the subject of more articles (and the press liked to slip in a mention of me whenever Declan was being discussed) than any normal person would have liked. I had never in my life wanted to be a celebrity, much less a celebrity by default.
At the gate, Lisa showed our passes, and we were whisked through to the players’ box. There was already a small group of who I guess were the WAGs in there who stopped talking as soon as we entered. It was as comfortable as it sounds.
“Well, girls,” Lisa said cheerily, but with a tone of falseness that I had never heard in her before. “Here we are, the start of a new season.”
“And not all girls,” one woman said, pointedly staring at me.
“I know! There’s a penis amongst us!” Lisa said in mock horror, linking her arm through mine. “I’m sure you already know, but this is Simon.” She made sure that all attention was on her before unnecessarily adding, “Declan’s partner.”
That word and all its connotations, provoked a reaction of repressed smirks and sideways glances between the Aussie remake of the Footballers’ Wives.
“Howdy,” I said, sounding far more confident than I felt, although there was a part of me who was also enjoying it purely from a sadomasochistic viewpoint.
There were some faint murmurs of greeting, and Lisa’s grip on me tightened. “They’re being shy, Simon. Don’t worry, they’ll get used to you. Why don’t you grab us some seats, and I’ll get some beer.”
It was the equivalent of throwing me into the lion’s den. I squeezed past some of women in the second row and grabbed two at the end. I lowered the seat and sank into it, wishing it would swallow me whole. I looked up and offered a faint smile to the woman sitting closest to me; she just stared back.
“Are you enjoying the attention, then, are you?” she suddenly demanded, and once again, silence fell between everybody.
“What?” I asked, my tone edgier than I would have liked.
“You seem to like getting your face in the papers,” she accused me.
I stared her down. “I don’t invite it, if that’s what you’re getting at.”
“I bet you like it, though.”
“Well, no, I don’t.” And I didn’t know why I was attempting to justify myself to her.
She snorted. “You could’ve fooled me.”
“Are you playing nice, Rachel?”
I breathed with relief and hated myself for it when Lisa appeared at the end of the aisle with two plastic cups of beer.
“Just getting to know our new friend here,” Rachel lied through gritted teeth.
“It sounded to me like you were accusing him of being a fame whore,” Lisa said as she made her way around the other women in the seats, who were of course drinking in every word said between us.
“Not at all—”
Rachel screamed and leapt out of her seat as some beer sloshed out of one of the cups and landed on the front of her blouse.
“Sorry,” Lisa said, sounding anything but.
“You bitch!” Rachel spat, wiping at herself. “You did that deliberately!”
“Nah,” Lisa said dismissively, “I’m just clumsy. But I’ll make it up to you, and give you the ten bucks so you can go to Supré and get a replacement.”
If we had been in a film, someone would be snapping their fingers and drawling “oh no she di’n’t!”, but everybody stared at their feet so as not to provoke the beast. Rachel glared at Lisa one more time and then stormed off in the direction of the toilets. Or at least stormed off as best as she could while having to navigate between rows of crammed-in seats.
Lisa sat beside me and handed me one of the cups. “Waste of good beer,” she fumed.
I smushed my cup against hers in celebration. “Nah, I think it was sacrificed for a worthy cause.”
“I’ll drink to that.”
One of the girls in front of us turned around in a gesture of friendliness and said, “I can’t believe she called you an attention whore when she was the one who went to the Brownlow in a backless low-cut gown with a diamante thong!”
Lisa snorted. “Glass houses, Jackie. Your boobs fell out of your dress when they were serving dessert.”
Jackie smiled fondly, lost in memory. “Yeah, that was a great dress. So, Simon, what will you be wearing to the Brownlow if you and Declan are still together by then?”
Lisa and I both stared at her for her lack of tact, and I slowly said, “I don’t know. Clothes, I guess.”
Jackie laughed politely, but looked bewildered. “Sure.” She seemed glad that the whistle blew and the players from Carlton began running onto the field so that she could start ignoring us with the best excuse in the world.
Lisa nudged my thigh with her own and smushed our cups together again. “You’re one of us now. There’s no escape.”
I gulped down my beer and hoped Rachel would fall down the loo so I wouldn’t have to see her again.
UNFORTUNATELY the toilet didn’t eat Rachel, but she seemed happy to pretend we didn’t exist from that moment on. The feeling was more than mutual. Some of the other girls thawed to us, but Lisa assured me that was about as good as it was going to get so I didn’t expect anything more. It seemed like it was going to remain Lisa and me in one camp and everybody else in another. Unless, of course, someone deemed just as freaky as one of us infiltrated the group, hence supplanting my role as newbie and thereby doomed to come and increase the numbers of the dark side.
It was only six minutes into the first quarter when all hell broke out on the field.
Declan had just had a handball delivered to him, and he was making his way towards the Devils’ goal posts when he was tackled by Fraser Johnson of the opposing side. They went down in a flurry of legs and arms, tumbling over each other, and when they got to their feet Declan immediately shoved Johnson away from him. I watched the action play out on the big screen; Declan looked furious. Johnson was obviously mouthing off at him because Declan came in a second time, and Johnson immediately shoved him back. It was only seconds before both teams came pouring in to the centre of the field, anxious to start blueing with one another. The panicked referees threw themselves into the fray, calling for calm as Lisa and I grimaced while watching from above. She pointed out Abe pulling Declan back from another confrontation with Johnson; he was almost foaming at the mouth. Their coach called for a suspension of play and brought Declan back into their camp for a debrief. After a few heated moments it appeared he wasn’t getting anywhere, and the coach sent on another player to go back on instead. The whistle blew, and one of the referees threw the ball back into play.
“Shit,” Lisa groaned. “What do you think that was all about?”
I didn’t want to say, although I had my suspicions. Luckily Rachel was there to take it upon herself to clear it all up for us.
“Are you dense, or has that beer already gone to your head?” Rachel drawled. “Johnson obviously slagged off the boy toy here.”
“I’m not this team’s fucking Yoko Ono, so can it,” I growled.
Rachel snorted. I’m not even sure if she got the reference, although she got the intent.
“They’ll be fine,” Lisa said, although whether she was saying it to reassure me or herself I couldn’t tell.
&nb
sp; “If he gets reported, he’ll have blown his chances for a Brownlow on his first game back,” Rachel said.
“Shut the fuck up, or I’ll shut you up,” Lisa threatened her.
“Hey!” I yelled. “We don’t need a brawl in here as well!”
Lisa rolled her eyes but patted me on the knee.
“Is it always this entertaining in here?” I whispered as we all drew our attention back to the game.
“Only if Rachel’s around,” Lisa replied.
“Is she ever not around?” I asked hopefully.
Lisa shook her head.
“Great. Maybe we should just buy our own tickets next time.”
“We can’t. The media would love it if they could publish stories about infighting amongst the partners, and us not sitting here would only fuel them further. We’re here to support Abe and Dec, that’s all we can think about.”
“Man, you’re such a good footballer’s wife,” I said mockingly. “Did you get that from the guidebook?”
“Shut up, you’re one of us now.”
I shuddered. “They better not think I’m turning up to the Brownlows in a dress.”
“I’ll go in pants if you go in a dress,” she challenged me.
I laughed. “No way. I’m not that stupid.”
Lisa sighed. “Pity.”
THE rest of the game passed without incident, although there seemed to be a tense atmosphere to the whole thing. Once the Devils left the field, all of the WAGs rose as one entity and exited the box.
“Stepford, party of one,” Lisa murmured. She slapped me on the thigh. “Well, you survived. How do you feel?”
“Fine. Just wanting to know how Dec is after all that.”
She nodded. “Yeah. I’m just glad Abe didn’t throw a punch.”
“Well, he’s mellowed in the past couple of years,” I said, remembering vaguely that he used to be known for being a wee bit volatile.
“Only because Dec and I made him. We’re pretty convincing when we gang up.”
“I bet.”
We watched the crowds below us trickle out of the stadium, and when there seemed to be less of a crush, we made our way downstairs.
Which was when I really started feeling nervous. Meeting the footballers’ wives had been enough of a frightening prospect, so coming across the footballers themselves seemed even more daunting. I would have tried to escape and meet up with Declan later if Lisa hadn’t kept a tight rein on me.
Down in the bowels of the stadium we found a seat a little way from the WAGs and waited for the footballers to emerge. When they did, they were a sorry-looking group. A fight on the field that involved both their captain and the vice captain plus a loss to the other team meant that they were sullen and silent. No cooing from their supportive partners lifted their spirits as they left in pairs like a Prozac-ridden Noah’s Ark. As they filed past where I was sitting with Lisa some of them looked stony-faced at me, obviously recognising me. Although a couple nodded, the rest ignored my presence.
Except for Rachel, of course, who couldn’t help but smirk.
“Man, I hate her,” Lisa said confidentially. Redundantly.
“Really?” I asked, just as redundantly. “I couldn’t tell.”
“You hate her too,” she continued in a singsong voice.
“She’s not my favourite person, no.”
The door to the change rooms swung open again, and Declan and Abe emerged.
They looked even more drained than the rest of the team. Lisa jumped up and immediately hugged Abe. I hung back, not knowing what to do, and unconsciously jammed my hands in my pockets.
Abe nodded at me and turned to Declan. “Drink?”
Declan shook his head, and it looked as if it took too much effort for him to do so. “I’ll give it a miss tonight, mate.”
Abe nodded again, knowing not to press it. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Sure.”
Lisa looked at me sympathetically, knowing we were in the same boat. She gave me a quick hug good-bye, and then she and Abe were gone, leaving Declan and me alone in the concourse.
I moved towards him and gave him a hug.
He stood still against me, unresponsive, and I pulled back.
“Oh, now you’ll hug me?” he asked.
“Sorry, I didn’t know what—”
He sighed. “It was only Abe and Lisa. You haven’t worried before.”
The same old argument again. I remained silent.
Declan stared at me, then realising he wasn’t going to get an answer from me he started walking towards the car park.
I followed him. Even though Declan only lived a short distance away, walking distance, really, during games he had decided it was better to drive home than risk having to put up with fans milling around the Docklands area afterwards. Especially as they would have had time to drink between their exit and the players’. It was just common sense for any footballer.
“Are you going to tell me what happened out there?” I asked, referring to the fracas at the beginning of the game.
He looked at me briefly, but continued walking. “Nothing to say.”
“Ah, so that was just a friendly bustup, then?”
“Just drop it, Simon, okay?”
Wow, I had been told. Starting to fume a little myself, I kept quiet so I wouldn’t explode.
We didn’t say a word until we pulled into the car park at his complex. Declan turned the ignition off and sat there for a moment.
“Look,” I said, my voice sounding a little rusty ever since I had forcibly kept it shut. “I’m just going to let you stew and go home tonight.”
Declan turned and looked at me. “Don’t. Just come up.”
“You’re pissed, and you’re not talking to me.”
“I’m not pissed, and I will talk to you.”
“Wow, that sounds really inviting.”
“Simon, please,” Declan said tiredly.
I took his hand and squeezed it. He squeezed back.
We were silent in the elevator, but there wasn’t the weird tension between us this time. As the doors opened upon his floor, I surprised him by taking his hand. His grip was strong but comfortable as we slowly walked hand in hand to his door.
Inside, Declan threw his bag in a corner and slumped upon the couch.
“Okay,” I said, sitting beside him. “Talk to me.”
He groaned.
“Come on, you know what my imagination’s like. I’m probably thinking it’s something ten times worse than it actually was.”
“What do you think it was?”
I lightly scratched behind his ears like I did for Maggie and was rewarded with a smile. “Doesn’t take a genius to guess you were sledged.”
“Yeah.”
“What did he say?”
“The usual. Well, not the usual. It was all new.” He took a deep breath. “I mean, I’ve been sledged before. It’s just that this time there was new ammunition to use against me.”
A little niggling thought began to form at the back of my mind, influenced by Rachel’s little dig at me before. “Like you said, sledging isn’t new, and you’ve probably been sledged a hundred times before.”
“More, probably.”
“Okay, you’ve been so calm about everything that’s happened to you since you came out. Why did it get to you today?”
“It just did, that’s all.”
Again, that niggling feeling, combined with the fact that he wouldn’t look at me. “It was something about me, wasn’t it?”
“Christ, Simon. Not everything’s about you!” he snapped.
I let my hand drop away. “Okay.”
Declan covered his face with his hands and rubbed at it tiredly. “I’m sorry.”
“Just tell me, Dec.”
“Yes!” he admitted finally. “He sledged you.”
I reached over and pulled his hands down so he would have to look at me. “You should have ignored him.”
“You don’t g
et it. There’s an etiquette. You don’t sledge the family or the girlfriends.”
“Well, that’s it, then,” I said, trying to make light of it. “He didn’t think he was doing anything wrong, because I’m not your girlfriend. A technicality, sure—”
“You know what I mean,” he growled. “And you’re family.”
That made me kiss him madly. And he responded, finally seeming like Declan again.
“Wow, I’ve never had anybody defending my honour before,” I teased.
“He knew what he was doing.”
“Dec, you should have just let it go.”
“I couldn’t.”
“You don’t have to defend me. For fuck’s sake, Dec, if they put you on an official reprimand you’ll be out of Brownlow contention.”
“Fuck the Brownlow,” Dec muttered.
“Fuck the Brownlow?” I asked in shock. “What kind of footballer are you?”
He studied me and grinned when he realised I was mocking him. “One with integrity.”
“A true white knight,” I admitted.
“What would you have done?” Dec asked. “If it had been you on the field?”
“If they had sledged you?” I asked. “I would have made them pay.”
Declan laughed and flung himself upon me. Crushed, I fell back against the arm of the couch, and once again the team of us closed itself against the world.
Chapter 26
I COULD tell Dec was awake and had been for a few minutes longer than me as I struggled against the last vestiges of sleep and opened my eyes.
“Morning,” he murmured.
“Hey,” I grunted. “Were you watching me?”
“Maybe.”
“Stalker.”
“I can’t help it; you’re so pretty.”
I moaned and buried my head back into the pillow.
“Especially when you drool.”
“What were you doing, really?” I asked, muffled by the material.
His hand flattened the pillow puffing around my head so that I could see him. “I told you. Watching you. Thinking about how nice it would be to stay in bed forever.”
“We would start to smell pretty quickly.”
“I could live with that.”