Mount! (41 page)

All the jockeys gathered round Ash, patting his shoulders, shaking his hand, even though they detested him, in order to appear on television as magnanimously good blokes. Eddie was fighting back the tears as Quickly hobbled home last, and radiant Sauvignon raced up to lead in I Will Repay.

The cheers ringing round Epsom were muted and only came from bookies. Few top hats were hurled in the air. Having so much money on Quickly, many of the punters booed and jeered Eddie, shouting that a monkey could have won on that horse.

And that was nothing to the vitriol poured over him by Rupert.

‘Did you listen to a fucking thing I said?’

‘Go easy on him, Rupert, it’s only a race,’ pleaded a tearful Etta.

‘You’re one to talk.’ Rupert turned on her. ‘Quickly’s now totally fucked as a stallion prospect and we’d be twenty million better off if you’d let us sell him.’

Across the parade ring, he could see Sheikh Baddi and his retinue dancing round in ecstasy that their horse had won.

‘Don’t you insult my wife,’ shouted Valent.

‘It’s not Eddie’s fault,’ stormed a panting Gala, having raced over from the start. ‘Quickly’s crippled lame.’

‘Don’t be so bloody silly, how the hell did you not realize he’d lost a plate?’ Having reduced her to tears, Rupert picked up Quickly’s hoof. ‘For Christ’s sake, the nail’s gone into the sole. I’m going to sue that farrier.’

‘Not that straightforward,’ observed Cathal. ‘Quickly was leaping around like a lunatic – it’s a miracle that Marti Farrell got him plated at all.’

‘He must have been in agony, poor boy,’ said Dora, as a fascinated media gathered round for a comment. ‘We must tell the press how bravely he galloped through his pain barrier.’

‘I’ve nothing to say,’ snapped Rupert. ‘Quickly shed a plate and he’s lame.’

‘Let’s go and have a drink with Ladbrokes.’ Taggie took his rigid arm. ‘They’re so longing to see you.’

Rupert looked at his watch. He and Meerkat had a plane to catch for an evening race in Chantilly.

‘Just for half an hour then.’

As he went into the Ladbrokes box, he was greeted with loud ironic cheers.

‘Thanks, mate. Shame for you, but Quickly saved our bacon.’ David Williams thrust a large glass of champagne into Rupert’s hand.

Next moment, an exuberant Barney rushed up and shook Rupert’s other hand.

‘Fanks, Rupe. Saw Quickly dripping perspiration in the paddock, backed ’im to lose instead, made fifty grand. But he’s a great horse, he’ll come back.’

‘I hope to God you’re right.’

Nowhere is no prizes for coming second more emphasized than in the Derby, where I Will Repay was led into the tiny jampacked winners enclosure, and the runners-up tied to second and third posts down the course outside.

Isolated from his stablemates and his beloved Harmony, I Will Repay in his blue and white winner’s ring whinnied plaintively. From above he looked like a mere slit in a charity tin, the massed top hats like caviar, as their owners took the opportunity to brush up against sinuous Sauvignon in her pink hot pants.

Cosmo was delighted to receive the Derby Cup from the Queen, who was near enough him in height for him to whip off his dark glasses and smoulder at her. Sauvignon drove the photographers even crazier as she accepted a silver photograph frame and a little Investec zebra. As I Will Repay’s and Ash’s names went up on the Roll of Honour, a euphoric Cosmo was asked about his plans for the future.

‘I’m going to have a large drink and raise a toast to about-to-be Leading Sire Roberto’s Revenge,’ he said, then added maliciously: ‘All the King’s horses and all the King’s men couldn’t put Rupert together again.’

Rupert gritted his teeth, but the show had to go on so he popped into the stables to check his horses before they set off for home. As he arrived, a white and shaking Bao sidled up to him.

‘Mr Black-Campbell, I must speak to you.’

‘Not now, Bao, I’m off to France.’

‘It’s important,’ protested Bao. ‘I know you are angry with Milburn Gala and Eddie, but it is not their fault. You will want to send me home and never forgive me. I lose Quickry the race.’

‘No, you didn’t.’ Rupert drew Bao back into Fleance’s box.

‘I know English think Chinese very cruel to animals,’ stammered Bao, ‘and I know Milburn Gala didn’t like me because Chinese man kill animals and husband and burnt her house. But she has been very kind to me. I wanted to show I love animals. She ask me to watch Quickry while she went to Womens. Quickry seem very thirsty, he kick his bucket, so I give him bucket of water, and he drank her all so I gave him another bucket and he drank her all too. Then Dora tell me it is bad for horse to drink water before race. I realize you lost millions of pounds. I am so, so sorry. I will try and pay you back. I have had good day betting on Fleance and Hal.’

Looking up, he was amazed to see Rupert was almost laughing.

‘It’s OK. Water didn’t stop Quickly. It may not have helped, but the fact that he ran so far with that nail through his hoof means he’s a very brave horse. I’m going to email your father and tell him you’re doing great. Got to go. I’ll be home later tonight and we’ll catch up tomorrow.’

As the lorry rumbled out of the racecourse, a man with a black bag was sweeping up
Racing Post
s, race cards, betting slips and Union Jacks. Women had kicked off their stilettos to walk in flip-flops.

‘I wish poor Quickly could wear flip-flops,’ said Gala.

‘More flop than flip in Quickly’s case,’ said Cathal.

‘Where’s Eddie?’ asked Marketa.

‘Couldn’t face us,’ said Cathal. ‘He’s driving himself home.’

‘Poor boy,’ said Gala.

Eddie was in total despair. Thank God his mom and dad hadn’t come over. He’d screwed up yet again and let everyone down. The yard wouldn’t get their 7 per cent of a million-pound prize
money; they’d all lost fortunes betting on Quickly. And he’d made Rupert, who told the press he was certain of victory, look an idiot.

As he approached Gloucestershire, the jockey moon was on high, sailing in and out of sinister grey and brown clouds. And to think he’d had the presumption to take his own car in the hope of whisking Sauvignon off for a drink. She’d never look at him now with I Will Repay already 1–2 on in the St Leger.

Around midnight, Gala went out to check on Quickly, and found Eddie in his box sobbing his heart out.

‘Oh Gala, I’m so, so sorry.’

Gala pulled him into her arms. ‘You poor, poor boy, it wasn’t your fault. After you’d gone, Rupert picked up Quickly’s hoof. The farrier had rammed the nail slap into the flesh.’

‘Omigod, he must have been in agony.’

‘With adrenalin coursing through his veins he probably didn’t feel it at first, but that’s why he died on you.’

Quickly nudged Eddie in agreement. Purrpuss, after a long day, didn’t stir.

‘Oh thank God. Is that true?’ Eddie looked so sweet with tears rolling down his wasted cheeks.

‘Absolutely. Come on, another day, another race. Gav will be back soon to sort things out. Come with me.’

Upstairs, she drew him towards the bedroom.

‘You sure? I haven’t eaten all day, I must taste horrible – can I use your toothbrush?’

When he returned, he said, ‘I’m all sweaty.’

‘I don’t care.’

Feeling her warm breath on his face, Eddie kissed her tentatively, and gradually they caught fire, tongues caressing each other’s. His hands were on her lovely soft body, unhooking her bra so her breasts tumbled out.

‘Omigod, I have dreamed of this.’

Next minute they were tearing off their clothes.

‘I haven’t shaved down there for months, I’m like a forest,’ confessed Gala. ‘I haven’t been to bed with anyone since Ben died.’ There, she’d said it.

‘Fuck off, Gropius,’ said Eddie as they fell into bed.

‘You ought to go to sleep,’ said Gala as she stroked his blond curls.

‘I don’t want to.’

Sliding his hand between her legs he found a clitoris budding: ‘Down in the forest something stirred.’

Then, as they both shook with laughter, ‘You’re so wet it’s a rainforest. And a tiger’s entering it.’

As he slid inside her, she gasped in ecstasy.

‘Oh, that is the best feeling. I’d forgotten how wonderful sex was,’ said Gala as he finally rolled off her.

Petruchio hacked up in Chantilly and Rupert and Meerkat flew straight back to Penscombe, landing after midnight.

Having been shouted at by Valent for being rude to Etta, feeling much guiltier that he’d reduced Gala to tears, Rupert went into the yard. Here Louise, the nightwatchman, informed him that Quickly could hardly put his foot down when he was unloaded. Walter had called Charlie Radcliffe, who found that the nail had also gone through an abscess. He’d poulticed Quickly and given him antibiotics and painkillers.

‘Why didn’t anyone ring me?’

‘Vet said it wasn’t life-threatening.’

‘Where’s Gala?’

‘Gone to bed about an hour ago. She was shattered,’ said Louise accusingly. ‘Done everything she could.’

Going into Quickly’s box, Rupert found him asleep. Purrpuss, tucked up between his legs, mewed warningly: ‘Don’t wake him, poor boy’s had a rough day.’

Going out into the moonlit night, Rupert saw a light on in Gala’s flat.

‘She was upset,’ chided Louise.

‘I was vile to her – better go and apologize.’

‘Sure she’d appreciate it,’ said Louise gleefully.

The flat door was ajar. Gropius, for once on the sofa, banished from Gala’s bed, wagged sleepily. He liked Rupert, who always made a fuss of him.

No one else was in the sitting room. Gala must have fallen asleep with the light on, thought Rupert. He’d leave her a note
to cheer her up in the morning. Searching for a pen, he glanced through the open door into the bedroom and froze. Utterly sated, entangled on the rumpled old spare-room duvet covered in red roses, lay Gala and Eddie. Eddie had his head cushioned by her splendid breasts, his hand between her thighs, down the inside of which gleamed silver evidence of recent pleasure. A smile softened Gala’s strong, sexy features; a hand still wearing Ben’s wedding ring rested protectively on Eddie’s golden curls. His clothes, evidence of rapid removal, lay tangled with hers on the floor. Eddie’s sticking-out ribs showed the cruel amount of weight he’d lost, but his smile was angelic.

Rupert was blasted with fury. How dare Eddie take advantage of Gala, how dare Gala cradle-snatch Eddie! He somehow managed not to yell at them, or to drag Eddie off the bed and hit him across the room. They both ought to be shot.

He jumped as a solid object hit his calf. But it was only Gropius, always hopeful of a snack.

‘They’re setting you a bloody bad example,’ hissed Rupert.

They both looked so bloody beautiful. He was appalled by the intensity of his rage.

Out in the yard, the moon had shrugged off a shawl of black cloud, and lit up Rupert’s set, murderous face. Louise laughed in delight as he stalked past her. What a marvellous piece of gossip.

Back in the house, Taggie was waiting anxiously in bed.

‘Are you OK? I heard the plane land.’

‘I dropped in to check on Quickly and found Gala in bed with Eddie.’

‘Gosh,’ giggled Taggie. ‘I’m so pleased, that should cheer them both up.’

‘Not funny, he’s got two rides at Goodwood tomorrow.’

‘You must be shattered. But oh, Rupert, Janey clobbered me as I was leaving Ladbrokes’ box. She’s got wind of the fact that Lime Tree Cottage is going to be empty and she wants to rent it for the summer to relive memories of the time she lived here with Billy.’

‘Bloody not,’ said Rupert, wriggling out of his green gingham shirt and dropping it in the bin for the luck it hadn’t brought
him. ‘We’re not having that shit-stirring bitch within a hundred miles of the place. Gala had better move in then when Gav comes back.’

As it was a fourth Sunday, it was Gala’s turn to lie in. She was woken by a telephone call from Eddie.

‘Never, never guess what.’

‘What?’

‘Grandpa popped in to apologize to you last night and caught us fast asleep after that utterly sublime fuck.’

‘Omigod. How did he react?’

‘Furious, incandescent. “How dare you take advantage of a vulnerable widow?”

“Only too easily,” I said. “Have you got the hots for her too? She’s sensational in bed.”’

‘Oh Eddie, you didn’t.’

‘He roared at me not to be impertinent. And Louise saw him coming and going last night, so it’s all round the yard and stud.’

‘Omigod, he saw us in bed with no clothes on!’

‘In flagwaving delicto, America and Zimbabwe’s finest. I told him it wasn’t your fault – that I’d been trying to get you into bed for yonks. When can we do it again? Funny, he wasn’t at all upset when he caught Mike going down on Celeste at the Christmas party. Just said: “Atta boy.” And when Gav returns, you can come back to the house and live down the passage from me.’

Before Gav returned, however, Gala had instead moved into Lime Tree Cottage, the sweet seventeenth-century house so coveted by Janey Lloyd-Foxe. Originally inhabited by gamekeepers, it stood in the heart of Rupert’s woods to the west. But since his empire had expanded down the valley, it lay only a hundred yards into the trees.

‘See how you get on,’ said Rupert. ‘If you find it’s too isolated, we’ll find you a room in one of the hostels.’

‘I love it,’ said Gala, joyfully breathing in the sweet scent of lime blossom, happy that from her bathroom she could see foals romping in the fields behind the stud.

Gav was dreading coming home. He could imagine the press: C
HEAT
T
AKEN
B
ACK
– and how would the staff react? His confidence had been much boosted by working with Luke. They had talked a lot, particularly after Luke broke his leg, mostly about horses and books, which they both loved.

Luke had introduced him to an ex of his, a beautiful divorce lawyer called Margie.

‘How did it go?’ asked Luke after their third date.

‘Not great, she suggested I go to a therapist. I said I’d have to be pissed to do that, and I can’t go back on the booze. Only booze kills shyness.’