Page 18 of Wild Horses

The recreation room, with its curtains pulled, hummed with excitement. A chorus of cheers erupted from the cluster of teens seated on mismatched sofas and beanbags.

‘Go Lions!’ they shouted in unison, their eyes glued to the screen as players clashed and sprinted across the green oval.

Tyler glanced over his shoulder from the adjacent kitchen, catching glimpses of the game while he arranged a platter of footy food that would have made any gastro-pub envious.

Sliders with tender pulled lamb and a hint of rosemary, mini pies oozing with rich beef and mushroom filling, and hand-cut fries seasoned with sea salt and truffle oil.

‘It smells incredible,’ said Christy as she stood by the countertop observing his work. ‘And don’t worry – I’m a Lions fan through and through.’ She picked up a pastry filled with caramelised onions and goat’s cheese, took a bite, then closed her eyes in delight.

Tyler grinned. ‘There’s nothing like gourmet footy grub to help us get into the spirit of things.’ It felt good to impress again: to showcase the skills that usually earned him accolades in far more glamorous settings than this.

Leo, whose guarded demeanour had softened in the collective excitement, chimed in from his vantage point near the TV.

‘Thanks, Dad. You know you’ve bribed the whole room with this great food, don’t you?

Most of the kids were barracking for the Lions anyway.

But for the others, since none of them have a team in this game, they’re all now going for Brisbane! ’

The compliment, casual as it was, gave Tyler such a jolt of pleasure that it left him shaken. He masked it well behind a chuckle and a shake of his head, but he couldn’t remember the last time Leo had thanked him for anything.

He placed the last of the homemade sausage rolls on a platter, the flaky pastry perfectly golden.

As Tyler watched Christy help distribute the plates among the eager teens, he couldn’t help noticing the way she interacted with them, her compassion and warmth drawing even the shyest students into the fold. She had a gift.

‘Dig in,’ he said. ‘Remember that this grub’s dedicated to a Lions win.

’ This elicited cheers and nods of approval.

As the room filled with the sounds of eating and the shared thrill of the game, Tyler allowed himself to bask in the approval of his son.

He savoured it, like the fleeting aftertaste of a fine wine, knowing all too well how quickly such moments could sour.

‘Looks like you’ve won over some fans, and not just for your football team,’ Christy whispered.

His gaze lingered on Leo, whose laughter mingled with that of his new friends. For now, this victory, however small, would do.

Tyler’s knuckles showed white and he clutched the table as the final quarter blazed across the screen.

His pulse seemed to pound in time with the commentator’s voice, rising and falling with the tide of the game.

The teams were evenly matched. Every mark was a held breath, each Lions goal a release.

Cheers and groans rang out in equal measure.

The television cast an electric glow across the watchers’ faces. ‘Come on!’ Leo shouted, springing from his seat as one of their players lined up for a shot at goal. The intensity in his son’s eyes mirrored Tyler’s own – a rare and precious alignment.

The football sailed between the posts, and the room erupted. Leo turned to Tyler, his face alight.

‘Did you see that free kick, Dad? Did you see it?’ Leo pumped a fist in the air.

‘Unbelievable!’ Tyler yelled back, all thought drowned out by the roar of blood in his ears and the infectious energy of his son.

A siren blared. The Lions had triumphed. Father and son jumped up and hugged each other, past grievances forgotten in a swirl of elation that engulfed them both. Tyler couldn’t stop grinning. In the midst of the laughter and jovial backslaps, he’d never felt closer to Leo.

‘Lions! Lions! Lions!’ The chant echoed around the room.

‘Your cooking brought us luck.’ Leo high-fived him, eyes shining in a way Tyler cherished.

‘Perhaps ... or maybe it was all your crazy screaming.’

Leo playfully punched Tyler’s shoulder. The burdens of the past – their loss, the years of misunderstandings – lifted, leaving behind only the pure essence of father and son.

The television flickered in the background as post-match discussions filled the room.

Tyler sat back, simply enjoying seeing Leo happy with his friends, while Christy helped clear away the dishes.

The national news came on and he only half-listened – real estate prices falling, a cabinet minister accused of corruption, George Calombaris buying a restaurant in Double Bay.

There was a time when Tyler would have been interested in such things.

Yet lately, nothing outside Merriang seemed to matter.

Then a segment came on that made him sit up and take notice.

‘The investigation into a Brisbane restaurant fire that claimed the life of a young mother has been reopened.’ The reporter’s voice sliced through his consciousness, sharp as a shard of glass.

Video of the fire flashed across the screen – nightmare images Tyler had spent years trying to forget.

The presenter said that new evidence had come to light and urged anyone with information to come forwards.

The air in the room seemed to thicken, making it hard for Tyler to breathe. New evidence – what could that mean? His palpable sense of shock was not lost on Leo, who watched his father with a growing sense of concern.

‘Dad, was that the fire ... the one where Mum died?’ Leo’s voice was tentative, laced with a lifetime of pain and confusion.

Tyler, his throat tight with emotions long buried, could only manage a stiff nod. Leo stood up and left the room, his departure swift and silent.

‘Wait, Leo!’ Tyler’s call was drowned out by the sound of the door slamming shut. He didn’t know what to do, torn between following Leo and giving him space.

Christy furrowed her brow, bewilderment apparent on her face. ‘What was that all about? Why did the news report upset you both so much?’

‘Uh ...’ Tyler hesitated, his mind whirling with what he should and shouldn’t divulge.

‘Is it ... Is that the restaurant fire that killed your wife?’ Christy ventured.

Tyler sighed and ran a hand through his hair, trying to find the right words. ‘I’m sorry for ruining the afternoon.’

‘No, don’t apologise.’ Christy’s eyes filled with empathy as she placed a comforting hand on his arm. ‘I can’t even imagine what you must be going through. And poor Leo ...’

Tyler nodded, feeling the sting of failure as a father. He needed to see Leo, but he couldn’t seem to find his feet or the strength to move.

‘Go after him, Tyler,’ Christy urged, giving his arm a gentle squeeze. ‘He needs you right now.’

Tyler finally found the resolve to act and left the room in search of his son.

He found Leo in Lofty’s paddock, the horse’s head resting lightly on the boy’s shoulder. The sight of them together was both beautiful and heartbreaking – two lost souls seeking solace in each other. Tyler approached slowly, unsure what to say.

‘Leo, I ...’ he began, but Leo held up a hand to stop him.

Tyler stood there, the distance between him and his son again feeling insurmountable. But he had to try. ‘Can we talk?’ He could hear the tremor in his own voice.

Lofty tossed his head uneasily and pinned back his ears. Leo soothed him with a gentle hand. ‘Just go, Dad. I can’t right now.’ His words choked in his throat and he turned his back on his father.

Tyler’s heart broke a little at the cold dismissal.

He couldn’t leave it like this. For a moment he had a wild idea.

Was this the moment to share more with Leo about that fateful night?

He took a step forwards, the words teetering on the tip of his tongue.

The urge was strong to tell all: to confess his suspicions and relieve himself of the burden he’d carried alone for a decade.

But the pain that it would cause Leo and Tyler’s own guilt held him back.

The melancholy call of a raven echoed through the valley. ‘Leave me alone!’ shouted Leo. Without turning around, he buried his face in Lofty’s thick black mane.

Reluctantly, Tyler retreated as late afternoon shadows lengthened. The distance between him and his son had widened once more, a gap more daunting than ever to bridge.

He could see Christy standing on the recreation room verandah, but he made his way straight to the car park.

As Tyler drove back to Astrid’s cottage he felt an overwhelming sense of disappointment.

The joy and excitement of the football game – his and Leo’s bonding moment – had ended so abruptly and was replaced now by a familiar aching sorrow.

Tyler gripped the steering wheel tightly, trying to keep his emotions in check.

‘Damn it,’ he muttered beneath his breath, cursing both the news report and himself.

What was this new evidence? He couldn’t shake the feeling that some nameless ghost from his past was pursuing him.

Would a fresh investigation into Grace’s death reveal truths he wasn’t ready to hear?

A hot flush of fear left him fighting for breath.

He opened the window and gulped down lungfuls of fresh air.

‘My poor Leo,’ he whispered to the wind. ‘You deserve better than me.’