At Long Odds (A Racing Romance) (32 page)

*

It was dark by the time Ginny got back to the yard in Jim’s car. Everyone had left and only the snorts and stamps of its residents betrayed the silence. With weary steps, she walked over to Sequella’s empty box. Peering in, she found it had already been cleaned out – Des or Kerry must have done it after seeing the race on television. She was relieved in one way that she wouldn’t be faced with it the following morning, but on the other hand, it almost felt like she hadn’t had time to say goodbye. Even standing in her stable amidst the messy rumpled bedding of shavings might have gone a way towards making her feel better.

Gripping the top of the stable door where Sequella’s teeth marks were still very much in residence, she felt the hard tickle of tears fill up the back of her nose and well up in her eyes. Turning away, she walked to the office to drop off the race and veterinary reports.

The cause of Sequella’s death had been attributed to a fractured pelvis, possibly occurring when Token Gesture bumped into her. The oncourse vet had explained this had caused internal bleeding and ultimately a massive heart attack. Alex hadn’t believed him, but the vet had insisted she probably hadn’t felt the break at all, and would have been none the wiser, even when she had fallen. She was already dead when she hit the ground.

Darragh was inconsolable, which in a way, made it more important for Ginny to be strong, and up until now she had shown very little emotion. She was still very worried about Darragh. The pair had had a special bond, and now left stranded, Darragh was like a house of cards caving in. Des had phoned to say he would give the boy some of his sleeping tablets when he and Alex returned with the lorry. Ginny warned him not to give too many.

*

Switching off the office light and locking the door behind her, Ginny heaved another deep sigh as she took one last look at Sequella’s deserted stable in the ill-lit yard, and began the miserable walk home. All she wanted was her bed. To curl up with the comfort of Jack next to her and to wash away the nightmare with sleep.

She’d almost reached Sally G’s garden gate when a car drove by, its brake lights burning in the dark before pulling over onto the pavement in front of her. A flit of joy leapt in her chest as she recognised the car, then the man who unfurled himself from the driver’s seat. Julien was wearing blue jeans and a white button-up shirt which seemed to glow in the dark as he walked towards her.

‘I thought maybe – maybe you might need…’ he began. Ginny looked at him with wide vulnerable eyes. Might need a friendly face? A sympathetic ear? A shoulder to cry on? She settled for the latter body part, and with a sob, she felt Julien’s arms fold around her.

He held her so tight, his arms as strong as steel bars, and Ginny felt at last she didn’t have to be the strong one anymore. Breaking down, she grasped his shirt in grief, great wracking sobs being wrenched out of her body. Julien whispered in French, holding her close. He rested his chin against her bowed head and stroked her hair.

As the tears began to subside beneath his soothing touch, Ginny raised her head, still clinging to his tear-soaked shirt. Through watery eyes she could see the compassion in his gaze, a softness so in contrast to the man she had first met that he might as well be a different person.

Julien, in turn bent to kiss her wet cheeks, lingering for a moment before lowering his mouth onto hers. Instinct took over and Ginny reached up to meet his touch, feeling her stomach do a triple somersault as she felt the pressure of his lips upon hers. His breath cooled the tears on her cheeks, and he moved his arm round so that he cradled her head with one hand. Surrendering herself to what felt so unbelievably right, Ginny loosened her grip on his shirt and slid her hand across his chest, revelling in the feel of the hard muscular contours of his body beneath her fingers and the rapid thudding of his heart. With confidence, Julien probed further, his tongue caressing hers as he drew her closer to him. A low moan of pleasure escaped from the back of Ginny’s throat.

It was enough to draw her up short. Alarm bells started to ring in her head. This couldn’t go on, it was wrong! There was no way any of this could work. She pulled away, stepping out of his embrace.

‘I – I’m sorry. I can’t do this,’ she said backing away, feeling frightened by what her feelings were now shouting at her. ‘I’m sorry. I’ve got to go.’

‘Ginny –’ Julien stepped forward, his hand outstretched.

She averted her eyes and hurried past him to the gate. With her heart hammering, she ran up the path to the front door, fumbling for her keys as she went. The need to put as much distance between her and Julien Larocque was overwhelming. This couldn’t happen again! Where could it lead, if not only into disaster? It would end in tears – her tears – just how it had started.

Chapter Thirty-Four

The next morning after work, Ginny traipsed into the house. A glimpse in the hall mirror of her swollen eyes and lank hair was a fair estimation of how she felt within. The most attractive thought in her head at that precise moment was her bed but would she be able to sleep? Last night, she had thought she couldn’t be any more tired yet she’d tossed and turned until dawn. It was worth another try, she decided numbly.

Sally G was reading in the lounge when she walked through. Putting her book down, she swept over to Ginny and enveloped her in muslin and silk.

‘Oh, darling. I’m so sorry. Come and sit down. Do you want to talk about it?’

Ginny let herself be guided to the sofa, where, still dangerously on the verge of tears, she sat down, pulling her feet up beneath her. Where could she start? She felt as if she’d lost two things dear to her yesterday. The protection of Julien’s arms was replaced by the panic she’d felt when Sequella had hit the ground. Her retreat from his embrace was substituted by the memory of Alex kneeling on the track, shaking his head.

‘It’s awful, Sally G!’ she moaned. ‘I know she was just a horse, but she was so much more than that. She had such a big personality. She seemed to have so much
life
in her. And then to see her…’ She gazed unseeingly at the carpet, remembering to the smallest pixel of detail, the big black mare, whose coat was still wet and shiny from sweat, lying lifeless on the turf.

‘I know. You’ve been very brave. And I know she wasn’t just a horse to you – to
any
of you.’

Ginny nodded, thinking of Darragh. He’d lost his best friend.

‘Darragh is beside himself. I don’t know what I can do to help him.’

‘He’s a strong boy, he’ll pick himself up. Don’t you worry. Did you drive back with him?’

‘No. He came back with Alex in the lorry. I had to stay and s-sort out…’ The racecourse officials had referred to Sequella’s body as a carcass when they’d discussed the removal of her. It was such an ugly word, and shouldn’t have been allowed to describe the majestic mare. ‘…sort out things. But when I got back I – I saw Julien and…’ The words died on her lips as she failed to explain the kiss they’d shared. She looked at Sally G helplessly and her landlady nodded in sympathy.

‘Darling, I quite understand why you’ve fallen in love with him.’

Hearing her say it, realisation hit Ginny like a ramming pole and once again she burst into tears.

‘Oh, God, Sally G! I have, haven’t I?’

Sally G held her, rocking her back and forth.

She had completely fallen for him! But it was hopeless, Ginny knew. They were rivals in racing, they could barely remain friends, but each time she was around him, the chemistry between them seemed to explode. He had become such a permanent fixture in her thoughts, that now she wondered why it had taken her so long to recognise what she’d been feeling all along. She felt helpless knowing that she couldn’t deny what she felt anymore, yet there was nowhere for it to progress. She couldn’t let anything happen. How could it not end in ruins? And without a flicker of a doubt, she knew it would be the Dewhurst Stakes where disaster would strike.

‘Does he love you?’ Sally G asked, breaking into her thoughts.

‘I-I don’t know. I think so. No, I don’t know!’ Ginny wailed.

‘I think you’ll find he does,’ Sally G said, handing her a tissue. ‘I’ve seen the way he looks at you.’

Ginny blew her nose noisily.

‘But it couldn’t work. How could it? We both
need
to win the Dewhurst for the sakes of our stables, but only one can!’

‘The Dewhurst? How do you mean?’

‘If we beat Julien, Silver Sabre will be taken away from Cobalt Lodge. Him and about twenty other horses which belong to that bastard Clinton Cole. Will Julien be able to forgive me if I’ve caused him that much damage?’ She looked at Sally G in anguish. ‘But if we lose, Ravenhill will probably have to close,’ she admitted with a sniff. ‘Where will that leave us? Dad has had the yard for twenty years. It’d destroy him if we have to shut up shop. I can’t do that to him.’ Could she still love Julien if Silver Sabre crushed Ravenhill’s last chance at survival? If she wasn’t sure of herself, Ginny despaired, then what hope could there be for him to love her?

‘Whichever way you lose, you mean?’

‘Yes,’ Ginny said in a small tearful voice. ‘Whether Caspian wins the Dewhurst or not, I’m still going to lose.’

‘Oh, darling,’ Sally G said, wrapping her arms around her again. ‘I had no idea things were so tough at the yard. You’ve been through so much; I wish I could make things better for you.’

‘I know,’ Ginny sighed.

‘Anything can happen though. Don’t they say the easiest race on paper is the one you lose? Well, it works the other way too. Don’t give up hope.’

Chapter Thirty-Five

The following Saturday, in need of a break from the bustle of the yard, Ginny took Caspian out for a quiet hack around the back roads and estates of Newmarket. As they walked along, Caspian’s reins swinging around his neck, she listened to the birds singing and the tolling of a nearby church’s bells. Trying to lighten her mood, the sun was making the odd attempt to break through the crisp white clouds. Her thoughts drifted to the Dewhurst Stakes, to be run in only a fortnight’s time.

It’s all so difficult, she thought with a sigh, trying to win a race, which I’m not even that sure I want to win anymore.

But
of course
you do, a voice inside Ginny’s head shouted. You only want to lose when you think of Julien. If Julien was removed from the equation then things would be fine! What did she want more – a future for Ravenhill Stables or a future with Julien Larocque? Ginny considered. Well, neither could be guaranteed, but she acknowledged that a future for Ravenhill was the more likely of the two to happen. She tried to laugh at herself. Here she was trying to choose between two loves, when she wasn’t even sure Julien would return it. At least she was certain of Ravenhill’s feelings.

On the way back to the yard, Caspian stopped of his own accord outside Cobalt Lodge. Lifting his head, he whinnied and pricked his ears as a reply echoed back to them from beyond the brick stable wall. The car park was empty. Julien’s car was nowhere to be seen and she felt a pang of loneliness. Squaring her shoulders, she decided there and then that what she was about to do would be the correct decision.

*

Ginny tapped her foot on the worn carpet in the office, holding the telephone to her ear with a clammy hand. The line crackled as it rang and she murmured her impatience. Her foot was interrupted mid-tap as the call was answered.

‘Hi Rijk, it’s Ginny.’

‘Ginny! How’s it going?’

A wry smile teased Ginny’s lips. Did he really want to know?

‘Okay, thanks.’ No, he probably didn’t.

‘I wasn’t expecting a call from you so soon. Have you decided whether or not you’re coming back to us or are you going to stay on Mud Island?’

‘It’s actually quite a nice day today,’ she smiled.

‘Come on, you didn’t call to give me a weather update.’

‘No, you’re right.’ Ginny wound the phone cord around her finger and bit her lip. ‘I know you gave me a couple of weeks to decide but I think I’ve made a definite decision already. I was torn because I’ve loved training in Cape Town with you and I’ve also loved training over here as well. My roots are here but –’ She was interrupted mid-sentence as her mother came stumbling through the office door. Her face was bloodless-white and her eyes wide with panic. ‘Mum? What’s wrong? Are you okay?’

‘J-Jim,’ Beth stammered, her voice quavering. ‘Dad. He needs an ambulance.’

‘Ginny, what’s going on? What’s happening?’

Rijk’s questions barraged her and she shook her head to clear it. A tight ball of fear was contracting in her stomach and she felt the receiver slip in her hand.

‘Sorry, Rijk, I’ve got to go. Something’s wrong with my dad,’ Ginny babbled. ‘I’ll speak to you soon. I’ve got to go!’ She didn’t wait for a response. She slammed the phone down and dashed over to her mother, who was clutching the doorframe and hyperventilating. ‘Where is he? What happened?’

‘I don’t know,’ Beth cried. ‘I just found him lying there in the bathroom. He couldn’t move.’

‘Have you called an ambulance?’

Beth nodded and gulped.

‘Come on. Where is he now?’

‘He’s still in the bathroom,’ she replied, allowing herself to be pulled out of the office and back to the house by Ginny.

*

‘Dad? Are you okay?’ Ginny said, winging into the bathroom. Her father was slumped against the wall, a fluffy green towel behind his head and his legs splayed on the tiled floor. She could hear his breath rasping through pale lips.

‘Ginny, I’m fine.’

‘You don’t look fine. Can you talk? What happened?’

Jim’s half-closed eyes focussed on her before resting on Beth standing behind Ginny.

‘I’m fine, really. I was just a little tired… a little weak. I’m fine.’

‘Stop saying you’re fine, Jim!’ Beth exclaimed. ‘You’re not!’

‘Shush, Mum. Don’t give him a bollocking,’ Ginny said in a calming voice. ‘An ambulance is on its way. They’ll tell us if you’re fine or not. Where does it hurt?’

Jim made a half-hearted effort to point to his chest but his hand barely lifted an inch.