Keeping the Peace (13 page)

They ate in silence for a couple of minutes, interspersed by Pippa’s giggles as she tried to master noodles with the complimentary chopsticks. A loop of sauce sashayed off one evasive noodle’s tail and splattered her screen.

‘Oops,’ she said, stealing a glance at Jack as she wiped it clean.

Jack, perched on the desk, looked unmoved.

‘Ollie and Tash were always wary of taking me out for dinner in public places,’ she said.

‘Tash your best friend?’ Jack asked, trying to cut a spring roll in half with his chopsticks.

‘Yeah. She’s the one helping us with the printing of this damned thing.’

Jack nodded.

‘And confidante?’ He seemed to have lost interest in his food as he waited for Pippa to answer.

Pippa hesitated, struck by the almost hurt look in his eyes.

‘Um, yes, I guess so. She’s my best friend.’

‘Any your only ally,’ Jack provided.

‘Pardon?’

‘Sometimes I shout because it’s the only way I can be heard,’ he went on, dropping his gaze and poking at his food. ‘And if I come across as miserable to you then it might be because that way, if something goes wrong, it doesn’t hit you in the gut as hard as if you went around thinking the world was full of roses.’

Pippa’s hand flew to her mouth and she gasped.

‘Oh, God. The email...’ Her voice trailed off when Jack nodded. ‘How?’

‘You sent it to me by mistake.’

Pippa’s heart dropped in mortification.

‘I’m so sorry, Jack. I meant to send it to Tash. Really, I am so sorry,’ she cried. ‘It meant nothing, honest. I was just having a really bad day and needed to offload it onto someone, you know? I didn’t mean all the things I said.’

Jack shrugged.

‘Maybe it was for the best,’ he said, popping a pork ball into his mouth and raising his eyebrows at her.

Pippa looked at him, wide-eyed and confused.

‘
How
?’

‘Maybe it’s something I needed to hear –’

‘But in that way? I’m sorry. It was hurtful and mean.’

‘Maybe it was the only way I would have listened. On the other hand, it’s good to know you aren’t always the chirpy bunny. Your language is terrible by the way and what the hell does “Pack my box with five dozen liquor jugs” mean?’ Jack delved through his noodles in search of another pork ball and to her disbelief, Pippa saw a smile start to tug at his lips.

‘It’s a typing exercise thing.’ She paused, still uncertain. ‘You mean you’re okay?’

‘I didn’t go and cut myself some rope, no. I’ve grown a pretty thick skin. Having said that, it was a bit unnerving when I opened my emails in the morning and came across that. Then you arrived, smiling with a cup of that herbal concoction. It was a bit too Jekyll and Hyde for my liking.’ His eyes twinkled as he watched Pippa’s expression.

‘I’m sorry, Jack,’ she whispered.

‘Forget it. Eat your food before it gets cold. And then we’ve got to finish this up,’ he said, gesturing to the screen.

Pippa did as she was told. She tried to balance some soggy rice onto her chopsticks, her fingers shaking.

‘Oh, fuck!’ she blurted as the chopsticks clicked apart and the rice went flying. She bit her lips together to stop herself laughing as Jack peered down his front at the offending food now attached to his white shirt in a sticky brown glob. Without a word, he scooped it up with his forefinger and held it up to her.

‘Would you like this back?’ he said with a deadpan expression.

Pippa’s resolve failed and she snorted.

‘Um, no, thank you,’ she giggled, trying – but failing – to mirror his expression. He ears burned and flush crept up her neck.

Jack raised an eyebrow, smiled once and popped his finger in his mouth.

‘And I’m the crazed bastard?’ he said. ‘I can see why your friends don’t like to take you out.’

‘Chirpy bunny?’ Pippa retorted.

Jack covered his mouth with the back of his hand as he laughed.

A slow mocking rap on the reception door stopped them both. Melissa, her blonde hair wound in a stylish French roll above the fur lining of her coat, stood in the doorway.

‘Is this a private party or can anyone join in?’

Jack choked on a rice grain.

‘Melissa. Come in. There’s no party,’ he said, putting his plate down with a clatter and heaving himself off the desk. ‘We were just – um, just...’ He gestured to the cartons.

Pippa struggled to raise the smile only moments ago she had been unable to contain. Who was this woman who had Jack scurrying around like a naughty boy every time she appeared?

‘Hello, Pippa. Working late?’ Melissa said, raising an eyebrow, while at the same time offering her cheek for Jack’s hurried kiss.

Pippa found the smile she had reserved for difficult customers at the restaurant.

‘Hello. Just sorting things out for the Open Day tomorrow.’

‘Leaving it a bit late, aren’t you?’

‘Just some last minute things,’ Jack said with a vague wave of his hand. ‘Couldn’t be helped.’

‘I see.’ Melissa walked over to the reception unit and peered over, avoiding the rows of half empty takeaway boxes, to look at Pippa’s computer screen.

Pippa tried hard not to glare at her and only just managed to stop herself from saying, ‘
It’s porn
, Melissa. Yes, Jack and I were eating Chinese and looking at porn on the internet.’

‘Were we meant to be going out tonight, Mel?’ Jack said, scratching his head.

She gave him a thin smile, her red lipstick catching the gloss of the overhead light.

‘No. I thought I would drop by on one the off chance of a drink. I can’t bear to go home. Daddy’s having some dinner party for his French and Italian peers.’

‘Well, we’ve still got a good couple of hours’ work to finish off here,’ Jack said doubtfully. ‘You’re welcome to stay though.’

Pippa gave a silent groan.

Melissa put her leather-gloved hand over Jack’s arm and squeezed it.

‘No. I can see you’re both very busy,’ she said, acknowledging the food cartons. ‘So I’ll leave you to it. Ta-ra, Pippa. Don’t work my Jack too hard now.’ She laughed and turned for the door. ‘Walk me back to my car, Jack?’

Jack did as he was asked.

As they both disappeared round the corner, Pippa gave a sigh of relief so vast it could have revived a drowning whale.

When Jack returned, all their previous humour was now blatantly absent.

‘Let’s crack on, shall we?’ he said, his manner brusque. With brisk movements, he stacked the plastic containers on top of one another and dropped them into the carrier bag and removed his plate from the desk. He sat back down without another word and sighed.

‘Are you okay?’ Pippa said, her tone gentle.

‘I’m fine. Come on. If we hurry, we might get these done in an hour. What box are we on now?’

‘Eighty-Two,’ she said quietly.

‘We’ve go to put in all the bloody horses for sale after that as well. Right. Eighty-Two: Think On Your Feet. God,’ he muttered, reading the horse’s form in the last booklet. ‘This has got be the most inaptly named horse ever. Okay, here we go. Has run with promise, but has taken a knock to his confidence after a couple of falls last year. Switched back to hurdles, but disappointed on return at Exeter.’

‘What does this mean in his last runs: 65RFU? Sixth, fifth, Royal Fuck Up?’ Pippa asked as she typed.

Jack chuckled and shook his head.

‘R means he refused, F means he fell, U means he unseated his rider. He can hardly put one foot in front of the other. Rhys says he updates his will each time he rides this horse. Eighty-Three...’

Pippa waited for him to continue then glanced at him when he didn’t.

Jack cleared his throat.

‘Eighty-Three: Peace Offering. Um, a sound jumper and stayer. Did not perform as well as hoped last year, but...’

‘But?’

‘...but has shown progress at home indicating potential for longer distance handicaps later this season.’

‘And is a live Grand National contender?’ Pippa prompted with a grin.

‘Not yet, Pippa,’ Jack replied, his voice grave.

‘I know, sorry. I know you don’t think he’s good enough, but –’ How could she convince him that having a dream wasn’t a bad thing? A wave of exhaustion washed over her. She was suddenly too tired to press the matter. ‘Never mind. Eighty-Four?’

Barely able to lift her fingers across the keyboard, Pippa clicked the pointer on
Send
and watched the email of attachments vanish from the outbox on her screen. With a groan, she folded her arms in front of her and let her head drop.

‘I could sleep right now, right here.’

‘Not advisable,’ Jack said, standing up and wheeling his chair back into the office, colliding with the doorframe as he went. ‘With the heater off, it’s like an igloo in here.’

‘You know, if an igloo is properly insulated, it’s not actually that cold,’ she said, still collapsed on her arms.

‘I’ll take your word for it,’ he said, re-emerging. ‘I, however, am going home.’

Pippa raised her head and scraped her curls out of her eyes, suddenly curious.

‘Where is home, Jack?’

‘On the other side of the hill past the Gallops. If you look closely, you can just see one of the outside lights on the brow, but the main house is on the other side. Are you going to be okay getting back?’

Pippa yawned and dragged herself to her feet.

‘Yeah. If I can keep awake for another half hour, I’ll be fine.’ She shut down the computer and threaded he arms through her coat.

Jack waited by the door for her, ready with his keys.

Pippa rubbed her hands together as she stepped out into the frosty night air then stopped while Jack switched off the light and locked the door.

‘Thank God that’s done now,’ he muttered as they walked to their cars.

‘Yes. Now we’ve only got tomorrow to deal with. I hope Tash can get the booklets to us in time.’

‘Yeah. I hope it doesn’t rain either.’

They both looked up at the clear sky, alive with stars.

‘Looks promising,’ Pippa said. She rummaged through her bag for her car keys.

‘You did good tonight, Pippa,’ Jack said, his voice quiet. ‘Thank you for your hard work.’

She grinned.

‘No problem. Thanks for your help too.’

She unlocked the door to her Beetle and Jack held it wide for her as she stepped in.

‘Well, goodnight, Jack.’

‘Goodnight. Oh, and the picture in Reception? It’s very good, Pippa. You’re very talented.’

‘Thanks,’ she said with a shy smile.

Jack nodded and shut the door behind her.

P
ippa pulled into Aspen Valley’s car park at eight o’clock the next morning, feeling surprisingly chipper considering her late night. As soon as she sat down at her desk, she telephoned Tash.

‘No problem,’ Tash reassured her. ‘Aladdin is running it right now. I made a couple of adjustments, but nothing serious, don’t worry. Should all be done in half an hour and the courier is on hold waiting for it.’

Pippa hugged herself with her free arm and gave an exultant sigh.

‘Thank you, Tash. You’ve saved my arse.’

‘Any time. Got to go. Call me later and tell me everything.’

‘Will do. Thanks again. Bye.’ Pippa hung up the phone and smiled at Jack’s closed office door. He wasn’t in yet, but she gave him a nod of satisfaction all the same. She got up and walked out into the yard.

Passing behind the far block of stables, she stopped to admire the billowing white marquee planted square in the middle of the lawn like a grounded spaceship. The horses whose stables opened out over this new spectacle looked on with interest at the dew-sparkling canvas flapping in the breeze.

‘Ready for the masses?’ a voice murmured in her ear.

Pippa jumped.

Finn grinned at her.

‘I think so,’ she said, recovering. ‘It looks lovely, doesn’t it, in the sunshine like that?’

‘To be sure. And with the walking paddock not twenty feet away we’ll be havin’ a right time of it parading these horses, so. Eyes out on stalks at this contraption.’

‘Oh, God,’ Pippa laughed. ‘I hope Peace Offering doesn’t make a fool of himself.’

‘Knowing him, he’ll be more interested in the sausage rolls ye’ll be serving.’

‘That reminds me. Last night, I was thinking of what you said about getting the owners drunk and thought it might be nice if we could serve them mulled wine. I was going to give the catering company a ring to see if they could do it.’

‘Good idea. The faster you get ol’ man Mardling plastered, the better.’

‘Mardling. That name rings a bell,’ Pippa mused, thinking back to the booklet.

‘So it should. He owns about a quarter of the horses here, including Virtuoso. Yer man, Jack is also walking round with Mardling’s daughter on his arm.’

‘Melissa? She owns Virtuoso? No wonder she’s so up her –’ Pippa stopped herself as Finn raised his eyebrows.

‘Go on,’ he cajoled.

‘Nothing,’ she said hastily. ‘It just comes across as her walking about with Jack on her arm rather than the other way round.’

Finn laughed and wrapped his arm round Pippa’s shoulders and steered her back towards the office.

‘She’s a man-eater. Of that, we’re all in no doubt. She is her father’s daughter.’

‘What does Mr Mardling do?’

‘Ken Mardling makes money,’ Finn said with a shrug. ‘He owns a textile business which he netted back in the eighties and made a fortune out of through Indonesian trade. Melissa is a fashion designer.’

Pippa was jolted by a stab of envy.

‘How lovely to design clothes all day,’ she murmured.

Finn chuckled.

‘Don’t you be getting jealous of Melissa Mardling. She has everything she wants, but is no happier than the rest of us.’

‘Really?’

‘Aye. You ever seen her smile?’

Pippa shook her head.

‘Not a proper smile anyway.’

‘And neither’ve I.’ Finn nodded discreetly to someone just rounding the corner of the yard. ‘And there’s himself so we’d best be leavin’ it there, so. Save me some smoked salmon snacks if there’s any on offer.’ He gave Pippa a friendly squeeze on the shoulder as they reached the racing office’s door and walked away, his bow-legged stride sprightly.