Microsoft Word - John Francome - Inside Track.doc (4 page)

Èxcellent.' Malcolm grinned and slapped him on the back. The touch contained an extra ounce of force that said Do as I say. His elder brother 20

had been thumping him like that for as long as Richard could remember.

`Just keep it up,' was Malcolm's parting shot as Richard strode away from him, preparing to face Black Knight's owner and utter a few cheerful platitudes.

How he wished he was a better liar. But not as much as he wished his friend and former racing companion Jamie Hutchison had never come back.

Pippa found them a spot beneath the glass window that fronted the bar with a good sightline to the large TV screen. His back safely wedged against the glass, Jamie appeared to relax a little.

`The Colonel says you used to look after his runner.' Everyone at the Ridgemoor yard referred to Toby Priest in this way. Even his sons called their father `Colonel' while on the premises, lest anyone should forget who was in charge. It was a far cry from the way Pippa ran things.

She nodded in response to Jamie's remark. The SIS camera picked out Black Knight, the Ridgemoor entry, on his way down to the start of the race. Until recently he'd been one of the horses under her care. It was a sore point.

She explained the history as the horses were loaded into the starting stalls.

Three weeks previously, one of her longstanding owners, Arabella Childs, had announced that she was removing her two horses, Black Knight and White Sands. Pippa had been sorry about it in one respect - the banker's widow was a prompt payer. On the other hand, she was a demanding woman, always on the phone at inconvenient times, and her horses had done nothing in two years despite Pippa's best efforts. She'd been surprised, however, to get a call from Toby Priest saying that Mrs. Childs had approached him to train the pair at Ridgemoor. Did she have any objection?

Pippa had none and said so. `The best of luck, Toby. They didn't set the world on fire with me.'

Her father-in-law had chuckled. `Suits me, my darling. I like a challenge.'

The remark had irritated her no end as she'd told Malcolm when recounting the conversation. As usual, he'd sided with his father. `The old man's got a heck of a reputation with bad horses, Pippa. He's been turning them round for years.'

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That had really put her back up. She reckoned she had a better track record with difficult horses than Toby Priest. After all, as a rule he got the cream.

So shed got a degree of satisfaction two days previously when White Sands had performed up to his usual dismal standard at Southwell. Now Black Knight was lined up against Lonsdale Heights and she had every expectation of another pleasing dollop of revenge.

She said as much to Jamie. 'Lonny's not as pretty as Black Knight but he's got real character. He'll die on his feet rather than give up. Black Knight's just a poseur.'

`He doesn't even look that well,' her brother said as the horses broke from the stalls and the pack settled into a steady rhythm. Black Knight, with Richard Priest wearing Arabella Childs' emerald green silks, was clearly visible at the head of the pack.

`He won't stay.'

As the runners passed the stands, Pippa could feel her stomach begin to knot. She wanted Lonsdale Heights to win so badly but, more than that, she wanted Black Knight to get beaten.

The race unwound - almost two complete circuits of the tight, left-hand oval of sandy-coloured track - much as Pippa expected. Down the back straight for the second time, Black Knight began to struggle as the pace increased. A few horses, including her own, were starting to crowd around him.

`That's it, he'll go backwards now,' Pippa said, without looking up from her binoculars.

Richard gave the horse a couple of sharp cracks. It didn't appear to make him run any faster but he wasn't going any slower either. He had the advantage of the inside and stuck his neck out to keep it. For the first time in his competitive life Black Knight looked as though he wanted to battle.

As they raced past the mile-and-a-half pole, stamina began to play its part.

Suddenly the race concerned only a handful of runners and, as they turned into the straight, three of those had faltered.

On board Lonsdale Heights, Billy Quinn, Pippa's jockey, looked over his shoulder for non-existent dangers. Black Knight was the only horse in front of him and he'd soon realise that Lonnie had him beat.

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Pippa knew both horses so well, and she could predict what would happen next. In her mind's eye she could already see Black Knight tying up and his challenge faltering, while Lonny, hurting just as much, breath short and legs unsteady, bustled past and drove himself to the line in first place.

`There he goes!' Pippa cried, grabbing Jamie's arm as Lonsdale Heights quickened and surged past Black Knight. She knew she was hopping up and down with excitement, like a little kid, unable to play it cool. She couldn't be purely professional about her business. In terms of thrills, of long-term satisfaction, of wanting to do it all over again, nothing beat seeing one of her horses win a race. Not even sex. (Sorry, Malcolm.) Billy Quinn had pulled a length clear but Black Knight, with Richard still hard at work, refused to concede.

Pippa froze in mid-hope. Suspended in disbelief. And despair. Black Knight wasn't finished. He was coming back at her horse in the last furlong, Richard tucked in tight, urging him on with hands and knees, with no need of the whip to harness the relentless surge beneath him.

Pippa wouldn't have believed it if she hadn't witnessed it for herself. Black Knight had never contested a finish. Yet here he was, galloping right to the line for the first time in his racing career.

How on earth had Toby Priest managed that?

Jamie felt for his sister as she strode into the unsaddling enclosure to greet the disappointed connections of Lonsdale Heights. She held her head high and wore a sympathetic smile as she proffered her hand to Geoffrey Lane.

`Bad luck, Billy,' he heard her call out to the jockey.

The rider patted his mount affectionately on the neck. `He gave me everything he had. You couldn't ask more of the feller.'

Jamie thought some of the Lane party looked less than convinced. He turned in the direction of the winners' enclosure where a knot of admirers led by a thin middle-aged woman with an orange tan - Mrs. Childs, he assumed - were making a fuss of Black Knight and his victorious jockey.

He waited till the congratulations were over before making for Richard.

`You've come on a bit since I last saw you,' he said. `Great finish.' Richard grinned. Ànyone could ride a horse like that.'

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`So modest, isn't he?' Jamie heard the voice before he saw the speaker but the recognition was instant. That low-pitched murmur, like water on gravel.

`Congratulations, darling.' A blonde figure in a fake fur coat and leather trousers wrapped her arms round Richard and kissed him on the mouth. She was half a head taller than him.

The jockey did not rush to extricate himself, though when he finally emerged he began an unnecessary introduction.

`Jamie, meet my fiancée, Vanessa. Sweetheart, this is Mal's brother-in-law.'

She turned to face Jamie and bathed him in the light of her brilliant blue eyes. They held not a trace of recognition. `Pleased to meet you,' she said formally and held out an elegant hand. Her fingers were cool. `Jamie's ridden for your dad,' said Richard.

Òh?' Her interest was polite.

`Yeah. He was on Morwenstow when he won the Diadem two years ago.

You must remember that.'

She shrugged. Àren't you in the next race? You'll be late.'

Richard obediently trotted off and Jamie rather expected Vanessa to depart as well. But she didn't. She looked at him critically.

`You look terrible,' she said.

He would have liked to say the same about her but it would have been far from the truth. She was less coltish and fuller in the face, with a determined set to her jaw he did not remember. But she was undeniably more beautiful. A woman now, no longer just a pretty girl.

`Well, say something,' she snapped. `Do you really not remember me?’ 'Of course I bloody well do but I don't want Richard to know, do I?’ 'Why not?'

`He's a bit funny about old boyfriends. So I'd rather our little fling remained a secret. I mean, it's not as if it meant anything.' Obviously not.

Ìf that's how you want it, Vanessa.'

`Thanks, darling.' She beamed and tucked her arm into his, leading him towards the stand. `You can buy me some champagne now.'

Ì'd love to, but I don't have any money.'

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`Well, I'll buy it then and you can tell me war stories of your time in chokey.'

Ì'll stick to orange juice, thanks, and I won't discuss prison.'

Òh, for God's sake,' she hissed as they entered the smoky bar, `don't tell me you've turned into a bore. At least before they locked you up you were good fun. Here.' She shoved a banknote into his hand. `Get a bottle of bubbly and two glasses.'

He looked at the note - fifty pounds, more money than he'd seen in a long time. She was giving him the full benefit of her sexy smile. He elbowed his way to the bar.

Pippa hung back in the crowd until Toby Priest had managed to offload Arabella Childs. She couldn't bear to face Black Knight's triumphant owner. The only consolation in this sorry sequence of events was that she no longer had to. Regrettably she still had to be polite to members of the Lane party with whom she had just spent an uncomfortable ten minutes.

Geoffrey, of course, had taken the reversal like the gentleman he was.

Ì'm just happy Lonnie was part of such a cracking race,' he'd said to her.

`That's what it's all about. A finish to be proud of.'

His wife was less convinced. Ìt's all very well being noble, Geoffrey, but I'd rather the horse had won.'

Lane's nephew had made no bones about his sentiments. He'd steered Pippa to one side and subjected her to a grilling. `You told us Black Knight hadn't a prayer.'

Ì didn't say that exactly.'

`You said you'd trained the horses side by side and Lonsdale Heights was far superior.'

Had she been that emphatic? Probably.

`That was my honest opinion. Frankly, I'm amazed at Black Knight's performance.'

`So you can't explain it?' He was leaning close, pushing his face into hers, his cheeks red. He didn't look so dishy now.

Ì can't explain anything,' she said. `Horses aren't machines. You can never predict how they'll run.'

`How convenient.' He stepped back a pace, making a conscious effort, it seemed, to keep his temper. She wondered how much money he'd lost.

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When he spoke again his voice was cold. Ìt's obvious to me that Black Knight has benefited from a change of trainer. My uncle is a loyal man but he's no fool. I shall be speaking to him about his horse's future arrangements. I wouldn't blame him if he also wanted a change.'

The worst thing about all this was that Pippa couldn't even account to herself for the improvement in Black Knight. She reckoned she knew her horses inside out but she'd never, at any stage, seen in Black Knight the quality he'd shown today. Uncomfortable as it was to admit, privately she conceded that Geoff's nephew had a point. If he decided to move Lonsdale Heights to Toby Priest, she couldn't blame him.

But that didn't mean she was resigned to defeat. Her next stop was Priest himself.

'Toby,' she called as Mrs. Childs disappeared into the crowd. He turned towards her, a lazy smile on his patrician face. `Congratulations,' she said.

`You're too kind, Ms Hutchison.' He used her professional name with a touch of irony. His often-stated surprise that she hadn't changed it after her marriage was another thing that rankled. To her mind there were already too many trainers in the book called Priest.

But she wasn't here to spar over trivialities.

`What on earth have you done to Black Knight? He's never run like that in his life.'

Toby nodded graciously. `Just a change of scenery, I suppose.' `That's the first time I've seen him finish his race.'

Ì told you I enjoy a challenge.'

`Yes, but how did you do it?' Pippa hated to beg but this was eating her up. `Please tell me, Toby.'

He laughed and slipped an arm around her waist beneath the short fleece she wore over her jeans. Ì love you dearly, Pippa, but you must realise that an old dog like me can't be giving away his tricks. Not even to his favourite daughter-in-law.'

He squeezed her bottom proprietorially and winked. Bastard.

The silence that filled the car as they crawled through the traffic surrounding the course suited Jamie. It gave him time to reflect on events that seemed to be flashing ahead too fast for him to keep up. Already Garstone Prison seemed to belong to another life, and thank God for that.

26

The afternoon at the races, the taste of it again, seemed to make another chance of a career in the saddle more possible. And the half hour spent with Vanessa, even though she herself was plainly off-limits, made other prospects seem thrillingly available. Of course he'd thought of women inside, but they'd existed in fantasy form only - a drink with an old flame had changed all that.

`Christ, you must be gagging for it after a year and a half,' Vanessa had said.

Ìt's longer than that. I was too smashed up in the accident to deal with women before the trial. You were my last, if you must know.' Òoh. How delicious.' Her eyes had lit up wickedly. Ìt's a pity I can't get you up and running again.'

Ì expect you've got your hands full with Rich.'

Àctually, I'm keeping him dangling a bit but it amounts to the same thing.

But don't worry, I've plenty of friends. I'll soon fix you up.' Jamie had declined, laughing, but the interchange had made him feel better about himself. Twenty-four hours ago he could never have imagined it taking place.

And then there was the racing itself. He'd been fearful of how he would react, but seeing Richard bring Black Knight home in a stormer had given him a real thrill. He'd watched him closely over the last furlong, knowing how the jockey was feeling and what he was looking for from his mount.