The whole field came to a stop.

‘You got a problem?’ Mooney queried, lip curling.

‘Yeah, I have. I’m sick of your crap. It’s time you started playing the ball instead of the man.’

Mooney moved closer, and Leon felt the air contract. Everybody was watching. If the coach didn’t support him, his season was over. Leon wouldn’t fight this arsehole, so he’d be forced to walk away and leave football behind. He waited, the silence thickening. He couldn’t believe the other bastards were all going to stand there and let Mooney rip in. It was poor repayment for the work he’d done to drag the team up the ladder. Hadn’t all those goals earned him even a pinch of respect?

Mooney’s fists were curled, his square jaw jutting, and he was close enough that Leon could smell him; the blond man’s scent had always been rank. Leon was wired, senses sharp, the night alive around him.

‘Hey, Mooney,’ Robbo said at last. ‘Leave off, will you? We’re here to train. We’ve got a big game this weekend. Don’t want any injuries.’

‘I could punch you into next week,’ Mooney snarled at Leon. ‘And you’d bloody deserve it. Tree-hugging greenie.’

Silence hovered over the field again.

‘I had nothing to do with those demonstrators,’ Leon said.

‘What about the eagles’ nest?’ Mooney barked. ‘I’ll bet it was you who reported it.’

‘Why would I?’

‘Because you’re a Parkie.’

‘Yeah, well, I didn’t. But maybe I should have.’

The men’s faces tightened and Robbo growled, ‘What do you mean?’

‘It’s an asset for this town,’ Leon said. ‘It’ll bring in the tourists.’

The stillness opened further, like a ditch, and Leon saw how he could fall into it. All it would take was one wrong word. He was trying to stand up for himself, like Grandpa had suggested. And he was suffering the consequences. Maybe now wasn’t the time. Him against the team. Not good odds.

‘How so, Parkie?’ Robbo’s words fell like stones into a pond.

‘Tourism brings money and jobs,’ Leon pointed out.

‘Cutting trees brings jobs,’ said Robbo, steely.

The word yeah bounced around Leon.

‘You’d better shut up, Parkie, if you want to walk out of here alive,’ Mooney said.

Leon saw the sourness in Mooney’s stare, felt anger radiating from the others. This was not a battle he could win. He’d made his point and they hadn’t mashed him yet, so maybe that was enough for tonight. He pasted on a tentative grin. ‘Sure. You’re right. This is not my brief. I’ll stay out of it.’ He was trying to sound light-hearted, but his voice came out squeaky with adrenaline.

Toby guffawed. ‘Is your voice breaking, Parkie?’

The tension released. The men cracked up and Leon had to smile too, in spite of himself.