Deadfall (30 page)

It was unfortunate that the long spell of fine weather had chosen the Friday afternoon to break, and after a night of intermittent rain, the going remained hard underneath but had become slippery on top. Even so, the morning proceeded with no more than the average number of minor panics and crises.

Surprisingly, Crispin turned up before the day was very far advanced, camera in hand, as always, but rather than take shots of the horses in action, proceeded to photograph all the hustle and bustle of the preparation for competition. It was, he said, for his ‘Sporting Life' exhibition.

Steamer was Linc's first ride of the day and, as before, the big grey did his very best to comply with his wishes in the dressage. The result was a test that was accurate but a little lacking in finesse, but the judges for once seemed to recognise his effort and their marks were better than Linc could have hoped for.

‘Bless him! He had his tongue out like a little boy concentrating on his maths,' Dee exclaimed, patting her horse fondly as she met them outside the arena.

Magic was scheduled only two horses later and in spite of the interruption in her warming up, the showy chestnut produced a super test and went into an early lead.

Both horses managed uneventful and penalty-free rounds in the showjumping, and Linc just had time to coax an unwilling dressage performance out of his own horse before mounting Steamer for the cross-country phase of the event.

It had to be said that he entered the start box with some trepidation, because first reports from the course suggested that a combination of the slippery conditions and some challenging fences were resulting in a higher than usual number of retirements and disqualifications.

Steamer stood waiting for the off, stock-still and quivering, and with his rump turned towards the first fence. This was Linc's latest ploy to stop himself from losing control the instant the starter sent them on their way.

It wasn't a huge success. He wouldn't have believed that any horse could turn himself through one hundred and eighty degrees so quickly. Almost before the words ‘Good luck' had left the official's mouth, Steamer had whipped round and was running. Linc recovered his balance and managed to haul in an inch or two of rein as they approached the straw-bale first fence but he made no noticeable impression on the big grey's speed. Steamer took the first three obstacles as if he were steeplechasing and Linc resigned himself to another white-knuckle ride.

The course at Coopers Down was indeed tricky in parts. When Linc had walked it earlier in the day
in the company of two fellow competitors, they had earmarked five potential hazards, one of which was the fourth fence, an innocuous-looking tree trunk at the top of a slope followed by another at the bottom. The problem lay in the slope. Even trying to walk down it, one of Linc's companions had slipped up and completed the journey on his backside. After the merriment had subsided, they all agreed that after a dozen or so horses had slid down it the incline would be treacherous.

It had been Linc's plan to approach the combination on a short, bouncy stride, to start with as much balance as possible.

Ah, well . . .

With no deference whatsoever to Linc's wishes, Steamer flew the first tree trunk, landing halfway down the slope and sliding the rest of the way with splayed forelegs to meet the second trunk with a resounding smack moments later. His momentum carried him forward and he half-fell over it to land on his knees the other side. Linc found himself with his face buried in the horse's unplaited mane, just behind the long grey ears. With a lurch forwards and sideways, Steamer made it to his feet, throwing his head up and tipping Linc back into the saddle as he did so. Showing commendable presence of mind, he used the grey's temporary state of unbalance to his advantage, shortening the reins and sitting deep, trying to force the horse to adopt a rhythm of
his
choosing for a change.

He was partially successful. His approach to the fifth, a massive pole over a ditch lined with railway sleepers, was almost sensible, and they made it through the other problem fences without incident,
but with each jump Steamer seemed to gain a little speed. By the time they reached the last he was travelling so fast that he skidded on the turn to it and missed it altogether. They swung round to come to the fence again but the damage was done. Twenty penalties for circling. Effectively out of contention.

Dee Ellis wasn't dismayed. In her eyes Steamer could do no wrong. Blaming the weather exclusively for his mistakes, she hugged him and fed him Polo mints before leading him off to her lorry. Wondering what, if anything, could be tried to steady the horse, Linc trudged back to link up with Nikki and Magic.

At the end of the dressage, Magic had only slipped two places, and to Linc's surprise and delight the chestnut produced a faultless cross-country round to finish on her dressage score. Whatever anyone else did, she couldn't finish lower than third.

Ruth would be over the moon.

Noddy had jumped an adequate but cautious round in the showjumping arena and Linc suspected that he wasn't happy with the state of the ground. Some horses adapt much more easily to slippery conditions than others. Noddy was behaving like an OAP on an icy morning. Linc put the biggest studs that he had into the brown horse's shoes and prepared to nurse him round the cross-country course for the sake of experience.

Nikki offered to warm Noddy up while Linc sat in the lorry cab drinking coffee from a flask and eating a ham and cheese roll. Magic was standing quietly in the back, munching on a full haynet. Presently,
with an apple in his hand, he went in search of his horse and found him being held by Nikki while her mother greased him up and checked his bandages. He glimpsed Crispin off to one side, still happily snapping.

‘Getting down and dirty, eh, Beverley?' Linc joked, feeding his apple core to Noddy.

‘I was brought up with horses,' she reminded him, straightening up and wiping leg grease off her fingers on to an old tea towel. ‘I've tightened his girth up one hole but I think it'll go up again.'

‘Thanks, I'll do it when I'm on.' Linc went round to Noddy's near – or left – side and checked the stirrup length. Somebody had already adjusted the leathers from Nikki's length to his. ‘Wow! What an efficient team,' he said, impressed.

‘We do our best,' Nikki declared jauntily. ‘Is Magic okay?'

‘Yes. The girl in the next lorry has promised to keep an eye on her. I gave her your mobile number in case of emergencies.' Linc swung on board Noddy, found his offside stirrup, then moved his leg forward to lift the saddle flap and tighten the girth, which under his weight, went up another hole. Noddy cow-kicked and sidled, a sure sign that he was beginning to wake up for his favourite part of the proceedings.

‘Just stand still!' Nikki told him firmly. ‘Ugh, you old slobberchops! You've gobbed all over me! Come here, let me tidy you up, you mucky horse.'

A quick wipe over the face and nostrils with a wet sponge and Noddy was ready to go. As Nikki let go of his head he immediately tried to rub his nose on his greasy legs but Linc hauled him up and sent him
forwards. After ten minutes or so of walking and trotting in circles he was called into the starting box to await the countdown.

Making his way across, Linc called out to Nikki, ‘He keeps shaking his head. Can you just wipe his face again?'

‘Number one hundred and seventy, into the starting box, please!' The steward sounded impatient at being obliged to repeat himself. It had begun to rain steadily once more and tempers were shortening.

Nikki came forward with a tea towel, mopped Noddy's face and checked that his forelock wasn't trapped by the bridle and pulling uncomfortably. She slapped him on the neck.

‘He seems fine,' she said. ‘Good luck.'

Linc rode into the start box but Noddy still seemed bothered by something. Linc wondered if it was a fly, and decided that once they were on the move, the horse would probably forget all about it.

‘Thirty seconds.'

Noddy stopped abruptly and tried to pull enough rein through Linc's fingers to get his head down to his knee and rub. Linc pushed him forwards again. The last thing he wanted was for Noddy to get the leg grease in his eyes.

‘Twenty!'

Noddy shook his head once more, then tossed it upwards. Linc patted him soothingly.

‘Five . . . four . . . three . . . two . . . one . . . good luck!'

Diving his head down sharply, Noddy jumped into a canter and they were away.

As they approached the first fence, it appeared
that whatever had been annoying the horse had gone, but as they landed and continued towards the second, he shook his head again briefly, the movement throwing him off balance for a moment. Linc steadied him, letting him pick up his rhythm once more, and they cleared the next safely.

All was not well, though. Noddy had begun sweating heavily and after a stride or two he again became preoccupied with whatever was bothering him and rapped the top rail of the third pretty hard. Linc hoped he'd be a bit more careful with the tree trunks of fence four but it wasn't looking good. Leaning hard on the bit he was gaining speed and as the solid mass of the first log came into view, Linc had to sit down hard and take a pull, forcing the brown horse's head up so that he could at least see the jump. Even so, Noddy hit it a resounding whack as he went over. He careered down the slope, slipping and sliding on the slippery ground, and cracked his knees on the second trunk as well, pecking on landing.

Linc felt enough was enough. Something, maybe a bee-sting, had badly upset the horse and he had no intention of risking either of their necks by trying to continue. As Noddy regained his balance, he shortened his reins right up and tried to pull him to a halt, but the horse was having none of it. He shook his head so violently that he almost fell over and then plunged forward, ripping the reins through Linc's fingers and heading at a ragged gallop towards the rail and ditch of fence five.

Although he was pulling uncharacteristically hard, Noddy seemed now to have stopped his frantic head-shaking, and Linc allowed himself to
hope that the crisis was over. Battling reins that were slippery with sweat, Linc managed to get Noddy's head up but they were less than five strides from the fence and he had to make a split-second decision. Clenching his jaw, he sat down and rode the horse forward.

Noddy approached the ditch and rail on a long stride and met it perfectly.

But he didn't take off.

It was as if he hadn't seen it. In the last couple of strides when he should have pricked his ears, lowered his head and got his quarters under him, he just kept galloping.

His front legs went into the five-foot-wide ditch, he hit the massive rail at chest height with a grunt of shock, and his back legs kicked skywards as his momentum carried him over and down.

Linc let the reins slip as he felt the horse falling but there was nothing he could do to save either of them. Noddy's neck and long brown ears disappeared leaving him perched high, and battered turf and railway sleepers hurtled to meet him.

The ground hit him sickeningly hard between the shoulder blades, rattling his teeth and driving the air from his lungs. He was briefly aware of seeing the edge of the ditch against the pale grey sky before it was blocked out by the dark mass of Noddy's falling body.

Someone somewhere clearly said, ‘Oh, shit!' then awareness left him.

Somebody was stroking his hand.

It felt rather nice, and as thinking was, for the moment, too much trouble, Linc just lay with his
eyes shut, enjoying the sensation. When the movement ceased he felt an inordinate sense of loss.

‘No. Don't stop,' he mumbled, lifting his eyelids a fraction.

White sheets, green coverlet and a metal bedstead.

Hospital. Damn!

‘Linc!' Josie leaned towards him, smiling with relief. ‘Thank God! Stay there, I'll call the nurse.'

Linc had no intention of going anywhere just at that moment but he didn't think he wanted a nurse, either. He opened his mouth to say so but Josie had already gone and was calling down the corridor.

‘You didn't manage to kill yourself this time. Will you finally stop now?'

With a shock of surprise, Linc turned his head to the other side and located his father, sitting in a chair by the window and looking at him with an expression of bitter reproach.

Linc searched his memory and came up with a one-day event. Noddy had fallen with him – a nasty fall. ‘How's Noddy? How's my horse?'

‘Forget the bloody horse and answer my question! Will you give up?'

Linc looked at him bleakly. So much for paternal concern. He hadn't even asked Linc how he felt.

Sylvester stood up.

‘Well?' he asked abruptly.

‘No,' Linc said quietly, and looked beyond him to the window where, beneath the half-lowered blind, the outside world was gloomy and wet. He fought the temptation to look back, and after a moment his father got up and left the room without another word.

‘Linc? Are you okay?' Josie had come back. ‘Where's your father going?'

Linc looked at her and shook his head wordlessly, ashamed to find his eyes blurring with a sudden rush of tears. God! He couldn't remember the last time he'd cried. Even as a child he rarely had. There was no point when there was no one to cry to.

‘The nurse is just coming.' Either Josie hadn't noticed, or she was pretending she hadn't.

Linc closed his eyes and steadied himself. He knew it was shock that had weakened his defences. Josie took his hand again and he squeezed hers, looked at her and smiled.

‘I'm sorry. I keep doing this to you, don't I?'

‘You do rather. Actually, I'm beginning to think you might do better to marry a nurse,' she said.

Linc summoned a smile in response. ‘You might be right. How's Noddy? Do you know if he's okay?'