At Long Odds (A Racing Romance) (34 page)

*

With a renewed precision to Caspian’s training regime, Ginny took him out onto the Gallops early on Monday morning. Beside her as they rode out of Ravenhill’s gates, was Kerry, astride Golden Marble. Some way ahead of them Alex and Darragh led the way, their backs swaying in unison aboard their rides.

‘So, how was your weekend off?’ Ginny asked.

‘It was okay, thanks.’ Kerry gave the two boys in front of them a quick glance to make sure they were out of earshot. ‘Well, more than okay, really.’

Ginny raised an eyebrow at her.

‘Alex asked me to go have Sunday lunch at his uncle and aunt’s place with him.’

‘Wow. Meeting the family already. You’ll be picking out a ring soon.’

Kerry laughed.

‘No, it wasn’t like that. He just said his aunt was a little overbearing and that he needed some support.’

As they passed Cobalt Lodge’s entrance, Ginny couldn’t help sneaking a look to see if Julien was around. Her heart gave a flutter when she saw his front door open. Unintentionally, she slowed Caspian.

But instead of Julien Larocque exiting, another figure, blowing kisses behind her as she went, skipped down the path. Ginny tightened her grip on Caspian’s mane. The young woman, her dark hair cut in a pixie crop to show off her striking cheekbones, waltzed into the car park and folded her long delicate legs into a Renault Mégane.

Ginny felt physically sick as they carried on towards the Gallops. She berated herself for feeling this way. She had no exclusivity to Julien. She had no right to feel upset if he was seeing other women. She’d turned him down, hadn’t she?

She wrenched her thoughts back to Kerry, who was dwelling on her own troubled love life.

‘Sounds like an excuse to me,’ she said. ‘What was his aunt like?’

‘Um, she was quite nice, actually.’

‘Not overbearing?’

‘Well, she thinks Alex is the modern son of God. You know, stuff like having first choice over which part of the roast chicken he preferred. And his favourite chocolate soufflé with ice-cream for dessert. Otherwise, she seemed okay.’

‘Christ, almighty. I hope he can make the weight on Sunday,’ Ginny replied, guiding the way through the gateway to the Gallops. ‘We’ve got Raccoon running at Ripon in a handicap and he’s got a featherweight.’

‘Confident?’

‘I think hopeful rather than confident. Come on, let’s clear these boys’ pipes.’ They paused to tighten their girths and gather their reins. ‘Stick beside me, okay? If we start to draw ahead, push him on. But if we start to fall behind just ease him back a little.’

*

Ginny balanced high over Caspian’s rocking shoulders as they cantered across the Gallops. She reached out and ran her hand over his flapping mane. Her thoughts drifted back to the girl blowing Julien kisses.

He doesn’t love you
, a voice in her head sneered. What have you ever done to deserve it? Ginny gritted her teeth. She needed to escape her thoughts. Under her urging, Caspian’s stride began to lengthen, the white rail beside them flashing by faster and faster as they picked up speed. The wind howled past her ears. Tears whipped from her eyes. Crouching low over Caspian’s withers, she pushed for more, revelling in his speed and the liberation it provided her. The colt thundered up the track, leaving Golden Marble behind. Her thoughts of Julien were gradually replaced by her horse’s performance. She counted in her head between the furlong markers, her excitement over each fraction rousing more speed from the colt.

At the top of the Gallops, she finally relaxed, easing back on the reins until Caspian was cantering under a snug hold. She felt like giving a loud whoop. This was the best Caspian had ever worked for her.

Kerry had no such reservations. Ginny looked over her shoulder as she heard the girl howl. Golden Marble seemed a mile behind.

‘Jesus Christ, Ginny!’ Kerry yelled. ‘We were flat to the boards! How did it feel?’

Ginny grinned as she pulled up Caspian and let him jog along.

‘Like a piece of chocolate soufflé.’

Kerry settled alongside them, and she shook her head at Golden Marble’s gasping breaths then at Caspian’s snorts of energy.

‘He could do that again.’

Ginny patted the colt’s bay neck, glossing over the shine of sweat that shimmered over his flexing muscles.

‘We’re on our way to the Dewhurst, my boy,’ she declared.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Ray gave an exultant sigh as he took a first sip of his Costa Coffee laté. He gave Ginny a frothy-lipped smile.

‘Lovely. Sarah’s getting me a coffee machine for my birthday.’

‘Dangerous. You know what you’re like with new toys. You can’t stop playing with them for the first month. With a coffee machine, you won’t be able to sleep for a year afterwards.’

‘What do you want for your birthday?’ he asked.

‘I don’t know,’ she shrugged. Could Ray magically make Julien Larocque fall in love with her, she wondered, gazing unseeingly at the passers-by in Newmarket’s shopping centre through the coffeehouse’s window. Like metal to a magnet, her eye was caught by someone window-shopping a short distance away. Even with his back to them, Ginny recognised Julien. Her stomach knotting and twisting, she looked around warily for the girl she had seen earlier. Ray craned his neck to follow her gaze.

‘My God, you’ve got it bad.’

‘What?’

‘That’s Larocque, isn’t it?’

Ginny took a casual sip of her drink and burnt her lip.

‘Yes, I think so.’

‘I’ll ask, but I don’t think he’d agree to jump out of a birthday cake for you.’

Ginny snorted.

‘Forget it.’

‘Are you two still tiptoeing around each other?’

‘Nothing’s going on,’ Ginny replied.

‘But you’d like something to be going on, wouldn’t you?’

‘Ray, when did you start getting so perceptive?’ she surrendered with a sigh.

Ray grinned, looking proud of himself.

‘I knew it!’

‘Don’t say anything to the parents, will you?’ she pleaded. ‘Nothing’s going to happen between Julien and I so there’s no point getting Mum all excited.’

‘How do you know nothing’s going to happen?’

Ginny swirled her coffee around the mug to collect the foam gathering on the sides.

‘I saw a girl come out of his house this morning.’

‘An owner perhaps?’ he suggested.

‘Leaving at seven o’clock and blowing kisses at him?’

‘An owner’s wife perhaps?’

Ginny tried, but couldn’t raise a convincing smile.

Ray grimaced.

‘Sorry, bad joke. Is he up to his old tricks again?’

‘I don’t know. It seemed that way.’ She shook her head and looked back towards Julien. He was moving away from the shop window in the opposite direction, his hands thrust deep into his pockets. He bumped shoulders with someone but looked so lost in thought, he didn’t apologise.

‘Maybe it’s just a passing phase,’ she said. ‘I’m going to have to build some sort of immunity shield against him if I’m going to stay on at Ravenhill.’

Ray looked doubtful but nodded.

‘Yeah, just a passing phase.’ He frowned at her, concerned. ‘Look, this doesn’t have to be a life sentence. If Dad retires now, you can make some changes. Ravenhill is just a yard, Ginny. I know it’s where we grew up – I know, I know,’ he overrode her as she tried to argue. ‘But the fact that you’re keeping on the family business is a big consolation. Mum and Dad don’t need that great big house now that we’ve moved out. And with only half the stables filled, it might be worth downsizing to a smaller yard.’

Ginny pulled an anguished face. She knew he spoke sense but sentimentality still clung on.

‘You wouldn’t be living right next door to Julien,’ Ray went on.

Sentimentality’s grip began to loosen. Maybe the future wasn’t so murky after all.

‘You’re right,’ she replied, surprise in her tone.

‘Instead of playing catch up to what Ravenhill used to be, you can start afresh in more manageable premises.’

‘What about Dad? Mum said she was going in to see him this morning.’

Ray shrugged.

‘He’s usually sensible about things, isn’t he? Except this bloody heart attack.’ Ray shook his head in wonder. ‘I went in to see him yesterday evening. He’s still adamant there’s nothing wrong with him.’

Ginny smiled at the thought of her father.

‘He’s a bit cheesed off about being kept in for another week,’ she agreed.

‘His blood pressure is still sky high and the reading from his heart monitor looked more erratic than an Alps mountain range,’ Ray complained. ‘Yet he still insists…’

‘I’m going to see him this afternoon.’

‘Good. Try talk some sense into him.’

‘I’ll try,’ Ginny grinned.

*

Jim was sitting up, reading a book when Ginny tiptoed into his room later that afternoon.

‘You awake?’

Jim looked over his glasses at her.

‘Sleeping like a baby, as you can see.’

Ginny grinned. She pulled up a chair and sat next to the bed.

‘I came in after racing yesterday but you were asleep. I didn’t want to disturb you.’

‘I get enough disturbance from everyone else. It’s a wonder how anyone can sleep in here,’ Jim muttered. He had been downgraded to a shared ward the day before.

‘Oh, I don’t know. I managed it pretty well after my fall.’

‘You were unconscious. There’s a difference.’

‘How are you feeling otherwise?’

‘I feel fine. But does anyone listen to me?’

‘Dad, we’re not going down that road again. Cheer up.’

Jim looked sulky.

‘Have you spoken to Mum?’ Ginny ventured after a pause.

‘She came in earlier. We had a word.’ Jim’s tone was grave.

‘So you know how she feels about –’ Ginny searched for the right word. ‘– about everything?’

Jim nodded. With a sigh, he unhooked his glasses and folded them onto his lap.

‘How do you feel about it?’ Ginny asked.

‘I maybe wasn’t appreciating quite how much strain she’s been under,’ he replied. ‘She kept saying how sorry she was for being selfish about asking me to retire, but it occurred to me that
I
was being more selfish by wanting to stay training.’

‘It’s for the best, Dad.’

‘I know.’ Jim sighed again. ‘But I don’t want you to feel obliged to keep Ravenhill going. You’ve done enough already by leaving South Africa.’

‘No, I want to stay,’ Ginny reassured him.

‘Do you?’

She dropped her gaze.

‘Maybe not at first. It’s easy to run away from your problems, isn’t it?’ She tried a small smile. ‘I had some time to think and I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I left without giving it my best shot. We’ll probably have to review the whole situation if Caspian doesn’t turn things around in the Dewhurst, but at least I can say I tried.’

‘Caspian’s a big horse for his age. The older he gets, the stronger he’ll become and I don’t think we’ve seen the best of him yet.’

‘I’m sure he’ll be a very good three-year-old,’ Ginny agreed. ‘But if we can’t win the Dewhurst then it might be in someone else’s colours.’

‘He’ll have improved after his last run and a few small weeks can make all the difference to a horse so young. He might have had a hiccup in the Solario Stakes, but anybody who discounts him in the Dewhurst is a fool.’

‘We might have lost the battle but the war ain’t over, right?’

‘Exactly,’ Jim said. ‘And I know if we
do
win the war, then I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather have running Ravenhill.’

Ginny flushed.

‘Dad, you and Rijk Swanepoel are going to give me a big head.’

‘Rijk said the same thing?’

‘To the same effect. He said he’d see us in the parade ring at Royal Ascot next year.’

Jim chuckled.

‘There you go then. You have to believe in yourself, Ginny.’

‘I do – well, some of the time – but next year is going to be tougher for me if we manage to stay in business,’ Ginny admitted, thinking of Julien.

‘It’d be plain sailing, as far as I can see. The Dewhurst is the richest two-year-old race on the calendar so we’ll have some financial security and people will come flocking to Ravenhill’s stable door with their horses to be trained by you.’

She gave him an indecisive smile.

‘Maybe. We’re not the only ones with a lot to lose in the Dewhurst though.’

‘Who do you mean? Julien Larocque and Clinton Cole?’

Ginny nodded.

‘Don’t you worry about other people’s problems, lovie.’

She chewed her lip. It would be so easy to tell her father that they would be very much her problems as well.

‘I suppose so,’ she said, deciding against it.

‘Good girl. You need to toughen up. You just missed him by the way.’

‘Who?’

‘Julien Larocque.’

Ginny’s blood froze.

‘Oh?’ she said, keeping her tone light.

‘Yeah, left about quarter of an hour ago.’

Ginny exhaled with relief and made a mental note to thank Jack for getting stuck on top of the wardrobe and delaying her departure.

‘What did he have to say for himself?’ She knew this sounded a bit mean, but she didn’t know how else to approach the subject.

‘I wish you’d give him a chance, Ginny. He’s not part of the Third Reich. He always manages to find something nice to say about you.’

‘He does?’ Ginny toyed with a piece of thread, which was hanging from the hem of her shirt and avoided looking at her father.

‘Yes. Although, the way you speak about him hardly warrants it. What have you got against him?’

I don’t know but I sure wish it was my body, a voice in Ginny’s head murmured.

‘I – I don’t think he’s a bad guy now, I guess,’ Ginny relented. ‘He just used to get under my skin, that’s all.’

‘I know. You weren’t very good at disguising it.’

‘Really?’ For a moment Ginny felt alarmed. The chemistry between her and Julien when they were within a hundred yards of each other was almost tangible. Had Jim spotted the attraction?

‘Yes, Ginny, and you’ve always been terrible at fibbing.’ Ginny felt even more distressed. ‘You don’t know how grateful your mother and I were for that when you were younger. You could never sneak out to clubs or bunk school.’