Page 43 of Wild Horses

After Hunter left, Tyler sat for the longest time, trawling through his past and examining his conscience.

He thought back to when he was a starry-eyed young chef just starting out, recently married and desperate to own his own place.

He’d been working in a restaurant under a domineering chef named Alphonse, who had no sense of adventure.

Whenever Tyler tried to include something interesting or avant garde on the menu, Alphonse said no.

Tyler tried to borrow money to buy a small café, but no banks would come to the party. He didn’t earn enough. He couldn’t borrow from his family as his mother wasn’t well off and his father had died when Tyler was twelve.

Then a friend said she’d introduce him to someone who might be able to help.

When Tyler met Enzo Fontana, it seemed like the man was an answer to his prayers.

Enzo owned an upmarket restaurant and wanted to make Tyler head chef.

Tyler jumped at the chance, and with his work ethic and inventive menus, he soon made the restaurant a roaring success.

Enzo was delighted, and over time the two of them grew close.

Enzo became a sort of father figure to Tyler.

He and Grace regularly had dinner with him and his much younger wife, Juliana.

They took weekends away together, played golf, attended concerts and polo matches.

Juliana was herself a talented equestrienne, and Grace often sought her advice about horses.

The friendship meant a lot to all four of them.

When Grace fell pregnant, she and Tyler asked the Fontanas to be godparents.

Despite their closeness, Tyler didn’t know much about Enzo’s business dealings.

The older man was very private about his affairs.

Tyler knew that in addition to the restaurant, Enzo owned an import/export business and a construction company.

And then there were the racehorses. Enzo haunted the track.

Tyler had heard him described as a ‘colourful racing identity’, which was, of course, a euphemism for a rogue.

But he hadn’t seen any evidence of it himself.

Enzo had been a dear and supportive friend and Tyler took people as he found them.

But he hadn’t given up on the dream of restaurant ownership.

After two years Tyler had finally saved up a deposit.

With a wife and baby to support now, it seemed like the perfect time to expand his career.

So when a going concern came on the market just around the corner in posh Southbank, it was time to talk to Enzo.

Tyler had walked into his office, the scent of rich leather and expensive cigars filling the air. The opulence of the room never failed to impress him – mahogany bookshelves lined with first editions and a grand desk dominating the space.

Enzo looked up, a smile spreading across his broad, ruddy face. ‘Tyler, my boy! To what do I owe the pleasure?’ His voice was warm, but there was always that edge of authority beneath it.

‘I have some news. A fantastic restaurant just came on the market in Southbank. It’s a good location, and it’s already a going concern.

I have little Leo to think about now, and I think it’s the perfect time to expand my career and finally own my own place.

So ... I’m sorry, but I’m giving you my notice. ’

Enzo leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled. ‘I’m disappointed to lose you, of course. But I also admire your ambition.’ He picked up a ballpoint pen and fiddled with it. ‘You have your finance sorted, I suppose?’

Tyler swallowed hard. Enzo was taking this better than he’d expected. ‘I’ve saved up a decent deposit. I’ll need to take out a sizeable loan to cover the rest, but I think I’m a good risk. As a matter of fact I’m off to see my bank manager right after this.’

Enzo drummed his fingers on the desk, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully. ‘You know, Tyler, you’ve done wonders for my restaurant. And you’re like a son to me. So what if I said that you don’t need to rely on the bank?’

Tyler blinked, not sure that he’d heard correctly. ‘What do you mean?’

The room was close and Enzo was starting to sweat. He wiped his face with a handkerchief. ‘I’ll lend you half the purchase price at a negligible interest and invest the rest of the money myself. I’d be your partner – a silent partner, mind. You’ll be in complete charge. What do you say?’

Tyler couldn’t believe his ears. In his daydreams Enzo had offered to bankroll him, but he hadn’t considered it a real possibility. ‘That’s amazingly generous. But why would you do that for me?’

‘Because you’re like family, Tyler. And I take care of my family. There’s only one condition. I’d like a private area in your new restaurant where I can conduct some business. A room or two, no more. It would be just for me and my colleagues.’

Tyler hesitated, thinking of the floor space available in the new place. There was a small suite at the side that was currently being used as a private function room. It even had a separate entrance. It should suit Enzo perfectly. ‘You have a deal.’

Enzo stood up, extending his hand. ‘No need for paperwork. A handshake will do. Now go home and tell Grace the good news. And remember, my door is always open for you.’

But Tyler hadn’t told Grace of his partnership with Enzo. He sensed she’d disapprove of the informal way he was doing things, so he allowed her to think that he’d obtained a conventional business loan. For the first time he stepped onto the slippery slope of concealing things from someone he loved.

As arranged, Enzo transferred the money through an offshore trust company. Tyler bought the restaurant and called it the Club Kitchen. Before long it was the talk of Brisbane, making a great deal of money, and Tyler was building a profile as a celebrity chef.

Life couldn’t have been better, except for one thing – Enzo and his friends.

They spent a lot of time at the Club and were secretive, putting a bodyguard on both doors of their private rooms, which Enzo had named the Parlour.

Shady-looking characters came and went, and the cleaners complained that the suite smelled of cigarettes and weed.

Tyler became suspicious that something dodgy was going on in there – unlicensed poker games perhaps.

When Tyler eventually brought up his concerns, Enzo denied any wrongdoing. ‘Relax,’ he said. ‘If any of my boys are smoking or gambling in the Parlour, I’ll put a stop to it pronto.’

Tyler accepted his assurances, partly because he loved and respected Enzo, and partly because he feared that Enzo might dissolve their partnership if he felt slighted.

He was a proud man and didn’t take criticism well.

Tyler couldn’t bear the thought of losing the Club Kitchen.

He was too caught up in his fame and success, so he turned a blind eye.

A month or two before the place burned down, Tyler had heard some fierce arguments in Enzo’s suite.

The yelling was loud enough to sound in the main body of the restaurant and disrupt the diners.

When he asked Enzo about it, for once his old friend was openly hostile.

‘Don’t poke your fucking nose into things that don’t concern you,’ he shouted.

The next day a brand-new sports car turned up at Tyler’s house with a big bow wrapped around it.

This made him even more concerned. What on earth was going on?

Grace was curious, but Tyler explained it away by saying that Enzo had registered the sports car in his name as a tax write-off.

He never shared his fears with her. Keeping secrets was becoming a habit.

Afterwards, when Grace died, Tyler was riddled with guilt, wondering if the fire might have been related to Enzo.

But he didn’t know how and he didn’t know why and he never had the chance to confront him, because Enzo died of a heart attack five days later.

Tyler had lost so much – his wife, his friend, his dream restaurant – all in the space of a week.

He was overwhelmed with grief and unable to think straight.

Only five-year-old Leo remained to him: a living reminder not only of his eternal love for Grace, but of the fact that life must go on.

Whenever he decided to approach the police, it was always thoughts of Leo that held him back.

What if Enzo had been conducting some seriously illegal activities in the Parlour?

And what if, by hosting these activities in his restaurant, Tyler himself could be charged with an offence?

If he went to jail, then who would look after Leo?

And anyway, back then he hadn’t been sure about anything.

The fire was officially ruled as an accident started by a leaky gas pipe.

Who was he to say otherwise? The insurance company paid up, making Tyler a wealthy man and allowing him to start Providence.

But by putting his head in the sand he’d fractured his connection with Leo.

He’d been unable to face his son for almost Leo’s entire childhood.

It would be an unimaginable relief to unburden himself and finally come clean.