At Long Odds (A Racing Romance) (16 page)

Ray groaned.

‘Please, God, not Pictionary.’

‘You too, Ray,’ Beth said, fixing her son with a steely eye. ‘Darragh, where are you going?’

Darragh gulped.

‘I really do have to go, Mrs. K. I’d love to stay, especially if it is Pictionary. But I’ve already plans to meet up with friends, you know, and I wouldn’t like to disrupt the game by leaving in the middle of it.’

The genuine expression on his face provoked a forgiving smile from Beth.

‘Okay then. It’s not Pictionary anyway, so don’t fret, dear.’ Her eye was caught by Julien making departure signals. ‘But no one else must leave! Otherwise we’ll have an odd number of players. Everyone come inside to the dining room and we’ll play at the table.’

Everyone looked dubiously at each other apart from Kerry, who jumped up to follow.

‘I love board games,’ she said.

‘Not these ones,’ Ray said, reluctantly following. ‘These ones are tests of endurance, patience and challenge the limits of people’s relationships.’

Once all gathered in the dining room, Ray asked,

‘What are we playing then, Mum?’

‘This.’ She held up the box lid for him to see. ‘
Thirty Seconds
. Ginny brought it back from South Africa for us.’

Ginny avoided Ray’s long, slow glare.

‘It’s fun. Have you ever played it? Okay, well, um,’ Ginny went on to the roomful of shaking heads. ‘It’s a bit like Pictionary but with words. You have teams of two or more people. One person takes a card which has names of five random things like famous places or people or films and stuff then they have thirty seconds to prompt their team mates what the word is without actually saying it. It helps if you’re on the same wavelength. Um, does that make sense?’

‘Sounds like fun,’ Jim said, pulling out a chair and sitting down. ‘Who’s in whose team?’

Beth beamed and laid out the board.

‘There’s eight of us. If it’s about knowing how your team mate’s mind works, then we should probably partner the person we know the best. So, you and me, Jim. Ray and Sarah. Alex and?’

Ginny inwardly groaned. Kerry would never forgive her if she partnered Alex.

‘I’ll go with Julien,’ she said. She gave an embarrassed smile to the looks of amazement.

‘Really?’ Beth said, unable to keep the doubt out of her tone. It was quickly replaced with a satisfied smile. ‘Wonderful!’

Ginny ventured a glance at Julien. His eyes bore into hers, filled with curiosity. If he’d been a puppy, his head would have tilted to one side, Ginny found herself thinking. She nodded and pulled out a chair for him before sitting down. Ray sat down on her other side and leant over.

‘This is going to be interesting,’ he murmured in her ear. ‘This might spark World War Three.’

‘Shush, Ray,’ Ginny muttered back. ‘Board games are only dangerous if you’re already in a relationship. If you don’t have one to begin with then there’s less chance of a punch-up.’

She attempted an amiable smile as Julien took his seat.

‘Any regrets for walking by our gate yet?’ she asked.

Julien’s eyes twinkled.

‘I’m surprisingly curious about how we are going to do in this game.’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘And curious why you wanted me as your partner.’

Ginny was saved from replying by Beth clapping her hands.

‘Right, everyone! Choose your token-thingy. I’ll be in charge of the egg-timer. We’ll roll to see who starts.’

*

The egg-timer was flipped and Alex whipped out a card. Kerry faced him intently.

‘Okay. Um, boxer dude –’

‘Ricky Hatton!’

‘No. Fought back in the seventies and eighties I think –’

‘Ooh, I don’t know any other boxers.’

‘Went by two names. Had big fight in Zaire…’

‘Muhammad Ali!’

‘No – the other one!’

‘George Foreman!’

‘No, the other
name
!’

‘Cassius Clay!’

‘Yes! Next one – um – road in London full of newsagents.’

‘Eh?’

‘Time’s nearly up!’ shrilled Beth.

‘Um, I don’t know!’ Kerry cried. ‘Give me more clues!’

‘Hell,’ Alex said, dragging a hand through his curls. ‘It’s on that Monopoly game! A red one, I think –’

‘Time’s up!’ Jim, Beth and Sarah yelled in unison.

‘Fleet Street, you mean?’ Kerry asked.

Alex nodded.

‘Newsagents? They’re journalists, not newsagents.’

He grinned.

‘Wait until you have to prompt me. You’ll see what the pressure’s like.’

‘Right, how many did you get?’ Beth asked.

‘One out of five.’

‘Oh dear, this is harder than I thought,’ Kerry said. ‘Your go next, Ginny.’

Ginny took a deep breath and turned in her seat to face Julien. He focused on her like a panther zoning in on its prey.

‘Ready?’ Beth said, fingering the egg-timer. ‘Go!’

Ginny whipped up a card.

‘Right, okay, um. Bloody hell,’ she grimaced at the prompts. ‘Ooh, I know! Your favourite drink!’

‘Jameson’s Whiskey!’

‘Yes!’

‘Um, the sort of musical you would go watch.’

‘Eh? I don’t watch musicals.’

‘Okay, hell, I’m going to embarrass myself here…’ To snorts of laughter from Alex and Ray, Ginny caroled the first line to
I Dreamed a Dream
.

‘
Les Miserables
,’ Julien answered. ‘Why is that the sort I’d go watch?’

‘Because you’re French?’ Ginny said dubiously.

Julien shook his head with a smile.

‘Keep going!’ Beth interrupted. ‘Time’s nearly up.’

‘Okay, boring reality TV series.’

‘Big Brother!’

‘Yes! Oh God, what does this person sing? Ooh, I know! Your least favourite Canadian singer. Sings soppy love songs.’

‘Bryan Adams?’

‘No, the other one!’

‘Celine Dion!’

‘Yes!’

‘Quick!’ exclaimed Beth.

‘Artist.Fat guy. Not the sort of thing I like.’ She remembered Sarah’s art exhibition. ‘You do though!’

‘Pablo Picasso!’

‘Yes!’

‘Time’s up!’ Jim yelled. ‘How many did you get?’

Ginny showed her parents the card and felt a faint blush tint her cheeks.

‘All five.’

She looked at Julien from the corner of her eye and saw a somewhat incredulous but satisfied smile on his face. Suddenly embarrassed, she flashed him a quick smile and leaned forward to move their token.

Thirty minutes of
Thirty Seconds
later, Ginny again moved their token onto the Finish square with a triumphant tap. The party looked at the board in awed silence.

‘Wow,’ Ray drawled. ‘That’s a turn-up for the books.’

‘Yes,’ Jim said, clearing his throat. ‘You two certainly showed us how to play. Who came second?’

‘Me and Sarah,’ Ray grinned. ‘Only about twenty spaces behind.’

‘I thought you said this game was for people who knew each other well?’ Jim said, looking at his and Beth’s token only halfway around the board.

‘No, it’s apparently for people on the same wavelength,’ Ray provided.

‘Well, we know where you two are then,’ Jim addressed his daughter.

Ginny hazarded a look at Julien. What would his take be on this conclusion? Julien blinked at the board and met her gaze. He gave a decidedly continental shrug.

‘Maybe we had easy prompts.’

Ginny nodded. The curiously warm feeling of satisfaction that she and Julien were on the same wavelength dropped a couple of degrees in temperature as he made the excuse.

‘Yeah, probably,’ she agreed. She looked away, wondering why his reply had lowered her high spirits. ‘Time for a drink, I think,’ she said brightly.

‘Good idea,’ Ray said. He scraped his chair back. ‘I’ll come help you.’

Ginny felt rather than heard the concern in his voice and she nodded gratefully.

‘Thanks.’

Chapter Seventeen

It was one thing eating with chopsticks, Ginny thought to herself the next evening, but it was another to eat with chopsticks when nervous. She had already spilled Soya sauce on the beautifully-designed woven table mats and was concentrating hard on not flicking any food at her partner. As she sat in the up-market London sushi restaurant opposite Mark, she wondered why she still felt like this around him. He was never anything but courteous and charming, but she always felt she had to take on a persona to impress him, or at least to measure up to his own high standards. She considered whether it might be the places they went to. The sushi restaurant’s vast window-fronts made Ginny feel as if she was on as much display as the lobsters in the huge fish tanks. Even with Chinese blinds zigzagging throughout the floor, making some attempt at privacy, the obvious expense and designer treatment bestowed upon the set-up made Ginny feel a bit out of her depth.

As well as her nerves deflating her appetite, she was ridiculously excited about seeing
The Phantom
after their meal and despite the delicious food and wine, she couldn’t wait for them to be on their way to the theatre.

‘I must admit, I was a bit reluctant to bring you here,’ Mark said.

‘Why? Afraid I would get drunk and start dancing on the tables?’

‘Well, the thought had crossed my mind, admittedly, but really because sushi isn’t for everyone. I wasn’t sure if you’d ever eaten it before.’

‘Oh, of course I have. I used to have it in Cape Town when I went out with friends to the Waterfront.’

‘Oh, yes. Quality sushi there. Almost on a par with this place, anyhow.’

A tiny spark of defensiveness lit up in Ginny as someone dared say Cape Town didn’t do the best sushi in the world. But she quashed it. It was a ridiculous thing to get annoyed about, so she smiled brightly to make up for it.

‘It’s delicious, thank you. Do you come here often?’

‘That sounds like a pick-up line.’

Ginny laughed.

‘It does, doesn’t it? But I don’t need to feed you pick-up lines, do I?’

‘No, I’m a sure thing, baby,’ he teased. ‘To answer your question though, I’ve been here a few times, but I’m hardly a regular. Do you ever come into London?’

Ginny made a face.

‘Not if I can help it. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I don’t hate it here, but I’m a country girl and I much prefer the smell of the harvest to the smell of exhaust fumes.’

‘Well, I haven’t come across anyone who does, but they still like London.’

‘Big cities aren’t for me. Never have been. I get claustrophobic if I spend more than a few days in London. Cambridge, I can just about deal with. And London is lovely for a treat every now and then. You know, Christmas shopping and stuff like that.’

‘Like tonight?’

‘Like tonight. How about you, don’t you ever get sick of the non-stop rush of everything here?’

‘If you go with the flow and aren’t fighting to slow down the whole time, it’s a lot easier. If you’re not careful, it can become monotonous just getting on the tube every morning, going to work, coming home, cooking a ready meal and sleeping, but it can also be exciting. It has vibrancy and life about it. There’s always something happening here, every day, every minute,’ Mark said, brandishing his chopsticks around him. ‘You just need to take advantage of it.’

‘But your pad here in London isn’t the only place you’ve got, is it?’

‘No, and I won’t deny I do like to get out every now and then, hence why I have a place outside Cambridge. There’s also another attraction to getting away from the city now as well.’

‘What?’ Ginny asked dimly.

‘Newmarket’s suddenly become a much more interesting place now with the addition of a certain young female trainer.’

Ginny blushed.

‘You flatter me.’

‘It’s the truth,’ Mark shrugged. ‘Now, what’s the time? Seven, okay. Have you had enough? I think we’d better start thinking of making a move.’

‘Can we get popcorn at
The Phantom
?’

Mark hesitated for a moment, not sure if she was joking or not. Ginny failed to disguise a wicked smile. It could be very amusing sometimes knowing that she was the unrefined half of this couple, and Mark obviously wasn’t too confident about her manners in more dignified company than she was used to.

‘Something tells me it’s not that sort of theatre,’ Mark drawled. He beckoned the Asian waiter over with their bill and hardly glancing at the price, he handed over his credit card.

‘Right,’ he said, once the waiter had gone. ‘I’m just going to use the Gents. Back in a sec.’

Alone, Ginny fiddled with the table mat in front of her. Now that they were about to go, she couldn’t wait. The wooden, black-painted table suddenly vibrated beneath her hands and she saw Mark’s phone sitting on the table, jig sideways. She dared not answer it. She looked up to see where he was, but he was still nowhere in sight. A few seconds after it had stopped ringing, the text tone chimed and leaning over, she read the lit up blue screen.

1 New Message from Damien

She and the phone were both sitting quietly when Mark returned.

‘Ready?’ he asked.

‘Yes, let’s go. I can’t wait! You received a message on your phone, by the way.’

‘Thanks.’ Mark picked up his phone as she stood up. ‘Fucking hell!’

Ginny looked up in surprise, her coat half on her shoulders. Just as shocking as the vehemence that he spoke with, she didn’t recall having heard him curse before.

‘Everything okay?’ she said.

‘Just work,’ Mark muttered and slipped his mobile into his jacket pocket. ‘Nothing we need to worry about now.’

As Ginny followed Mark out of the restaurant and into the young evening, she frowned to herself. She hadn’t realised Mark and Damien actually worked together. Obviously, Damien rode his horses for him, but was that work as such? Mentally shrugging her shoulders she focussed her thoughts on the next highlight of her night out in London.

*

Clutching Mark’s arm, Ginny trotted alongside up the steps to the theatre feeling as excited as a child going to Hamleys, and kept having to remind herself that she was meant to be acting like an adult. Mark liked smart restaurants and events and appeared to have a much more mature view of these outings than Ginny, and she didn’t think he would quite appreciate her girlish excitement, even allowing for his good nature.