Authors: Calvin Wade

Forever Is Over (76 page)

BOOK: Forever Is Over

9.08Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

ads

Ten seconds after
‘
Florida Diamond
’
s
’
victory, I was convinced it
was my lucky day. Ten minutes later I was not so sure. In fact, I had
gone from one extreme to another quicker than an Eskimo on a rocket
to Dubai.

“
Quartz Starr
’
s going to lose, Cal, I know it.
”

“
Whatever it does, you can
’
t do anything about it, so stop stressing.
What will be, will be.
”

“
I can
’
t help stressing. I
’
ve got seven hundred quid on a horse!
”

Dad, who had been having a chat with one of his fellow punters,
headed over to provide some fatherly advice.

“
Richie! Pack in the pacing up and down the shop! Someone
’
s going
to kick your head in, in a minute and if you don
’
t cut it out, it might well
be me. They
’
ll have all clocked you putting that big, fat wad on before
and if shouting and screaming for
‘
Florida Diamond
’
wasn
’
t bad enough, you
’
re pacing up and down
saying,

“
Come on, Quartz Starr! I need this for Kelly! Singapore
’
s waiting!
”

Then I hear you say in a big, loud voice,

“
I
’
ve got seven hundred quid on a horse!
”

How thick are you, Richie? It
’
s like cutting your own arm off and
then jumping into a pool full of malnourished sharks. I am warning you, Richie, cut it out!
”

I suddenly had a vision before my eyes of Jemma
’
s old boyfriend, Ray.
I hated him because he was a loudmouthed show off, not interested in
anyone else
’
s situation but his own and I immediately understood Dad
’
s
point. I was only acting the way I was through nervous excitement , but
from the perspective of my fellow gamblers, who may have just gambled away their wife
’
s housekeeping, they would not want to see some young
upstart pacing round excitedly with a fortune at his fingertips.

“
Sorry Dad, I take your point.
”

“
I understand how you
’
re feeling son, but I
’
ve got
£
200 riding on
Quartz Starr too and I
’
ll be in more of a mess than you if it doesn
’
t win,
as I
’
ll owe
£
150 to a man you wouldn
’
t want to owe a pound too.
”

“
I thought you said Dave at the Dog & Gun lent you the money.
”

“
I lied son, Dave wouldn
’
t lend me a penny. He
’
s lent me money
in the past and had to wait until my next win to get it back, which
sometimes was several months. Dave did give me the tips but the money
came from Kiffer. He wanted 50% back, but I figured if I was going to
turn
£
100 into
£
400, I could afford to give him
£
50.
”

“
Bloody hell, Dad!
”

I had only heard of Kiffer but his reputation was well known in
Ormskirk. He was a loan shark. A man who had apparently inspired
dozens of soap storylines. The body in the attic of the disused semi, that
was a Kiffer killing. The body in the gigantic ice cube in the ice cream
factory, that was a Kiffer too. The human kebab, you guessed it - Kiffer!
He didn
’
t kill people himself, but it was rumoured his henchmen did, but nothing could ever be proven. I doubt he would kill my Dad over
£
150, but I certainly wouldn
’
t want to be the one trying to explain why
I didn
’
t have it.

Dad could see that I had gone a whiter shade of pale.

“
Don
’
t worry son, Quartz Starr will romp home. I
’
ll give him his
£
150 and still have
£
250 in my arse pocket.
”

I shook my head. I would never end up like Dad. Quartz Starr was
definitely going to be my first and last bet. I would not be venturing
into Stanley Racing again, there was enough drama in my life without
this!

Two thirty eventually came around. Dad commented that Quartz
Starr
“
looked immaculate
”
. I had no experience of judging how well
turned out a horse was, but Quartz Starr looked like he knew he was
something special. He looked like an Olympic athlete whilst one or
two of the others looked like they had an addiction to hay and sugar
lumps! They were the horseracing version of the sextuplet IVF man from
earlier. I made this point in a whisper to Dad.

“
Quartz Starr looks much fitter than the rest of them.
”

“
He should do, Richie! Apparently this is his prep race for the
Cheltenham Festival. Him running against this lot, is like Seb Coe
challenging me and you to a 1500 metre race. It
’
ll be no contest, he
’
ll
piss this easier than Florida Diamond won the last one!
”

“
I hope you
’
re right, Dad!
”

“
I will be.
”

The race was over two miles and the first mile and a half went like
a dream. It was going so well, I had to ask Dad why the other jockeys
looked like they were trying really hard, bouncing up and down on their
saddles like they were backside trampolines, whilst
‘
Fingers
’
Marling
was not moving an inch.

“
It
’
s all about the amount of horse you
’
ve got under you,
”
Dad
explained,
“
the rest of the jockeys know their horses are knackered, so
they are trying to cajole them to go faster, whilst
‘
Fingers
’
knows Quartz
is still in first gear, so he is just steering him around.
”

I was managing to contain my excitement but if what Dad was
saying was right, this was virtually all over, there was just one other
horse that looked like it could muster any sort of challenge.

The bookies had been relatively quiet, with just a few mutterings,
when out of nowhere, the tranquillity was broken by a high pitched shriek that no doubt attracted the attention of any canines situated
within a five mile radius.

“
COME ON MISTRAL FLAGSHIP!
”

It was bloody Caroline!

For a split second, I covered an ear with one hand and my eyes with
the other, as I daren
’
t look at Dad after this. His worst fears were just
being realised! I opened my eyes, but now used my cupped left hand that
had protected my eardrum to blinker me from Dad
’
s stare. I turned to
my right to face Caroline, who was jumping twice as high as I was in the previous race. It was bizarre, it was like she had borrowed a pogo stick!
If Caroline had jumped any higher, she would have needed a motorbike
helmet to protect her from the ceiling.

“
Caroline! We haven
’
t backed Mistral Flagship!
”

“
Speak for yourself bruv, I have! I
’
ve got a fiver on it, at 33-1!
Margaret picked it out for me! GO ON MISTRAL!
”

Caroline
’
s horse was in the lead, but
‘
Fingers
’
was doing what he
did in the previous race, just shadowing the lead horse, just waiting for
his moment to pounce. I don
’
t know whether it was horse or jockey,
but with half a mile to go, one of the two decided enough was enough.
To use Dad
’
s analogy, it would have been like Seb Coe jogging along
behind Dad and I for 1100 metres of a 1500 metre race thinking,

“
I
’
ve not trained every day of my life for the last ten years to amble
around at this pace!
”

Then hearing the bell and thinking,

“
Right! Now I
’
ll show them what I
’
m really made of!
”

Quartz Starr did just that. He probably only went into the second
of his gears but in the blink of an eye, he left Mistral Flagship for dead,
then moved further and further clear so his backside became like a speck
in the middle of a TV screen to Mistral Flagship. Caroline stopped
jumping and screaming. I was going to Singapore!

I guess in gambling the most dangerous thing you can do is to count
your money before a race is over. I was doing just that. I was counting
every twenty pound note in my head when all of a sudden the wheels
came flying off our Formula One Ferrari. Approaching the second
last fence, Quartz Starr was ambling along, he was so far ahead that
‘
Fingers
’
had now slowed him right down, to a pleasant trot no faster
than a donkey on Blackpool beach. I am sure after the race,
‘
Fingers
’
will have reflected that this was probably not the ideal speed to be
jumping fences several feet high.

At the second last, rather than leap majestically over like a salmon
heading up stream, Quartz Starr jumped half heartedly, as though there
was no fun in this race any more, his underbelly hit the birch at the top
of the fence and
‘
Fingers
’
Marling was dumped unceremoniously onto
the mud on the landing side. Quartz Starr also managed to land safely
on the far side of the fence and trotted off to find a healthy strip of grass
to munch on.

A ghostly figure now set fire, with a zippo, to those twenty pound
notes that I was counting in my imagination. I held my head in my
hands.

“
Shit!
”

The dream was over. I would not be
going to Singapore after all.
A
mud splattered
‘
Fingers
’
Marling ran off in pursuit of Quartz Starr,
eventually grabbing his reins and although Quartz Starr was now facing
towards the fence he had just attempted to jump,
‘
Fingers
’
put a foot
in the stirrups and started to re-mount him. Whilst all this chaos was
ensuing ,Mistral Flagship was clumsily, wearily, jumping the third last
fence. I had no idea what was going on. I needed guidance from Dad.