Bolt - By Dick Francis Page 0,91

‘Next time, he’ll win,’ as one does, to please him and the owners.

I weighed in for fourth place, changed fast, collected my valuables from the valet and wrote a short note for Danielle.

‘Christmas Day has dawned. Time to go.’

It was Betsy, in the end, who took the note into the Ladies, coming out smiling with Danielle a minute later.

I sighed with relief: Danielle also, it seemed. Betsy shook her head over our childish games, and Danielle and I went out to the rapidly emptying car park.

‘Did you see Nanterre?’ Danielle asked.

‘No. Nowhere.’

‘I’m sure it was him.’

‘Yes, so am I.’

My car stood almost alone at the end of a line, its neighbours having departed. I stopped well before we reached it and brought the car-starter out of my pocket.

‘But that,’ Danielle said in surprise, ‘is your toy for freezes.’

‘Mm,’ I said, and pressed its switch.

There was no explosion. The engine started sweetly, purring to life. We went on towards the car and I did the other checks anyway, but finding nothing wrong.

‘What if it had blown up?’ Danielle said.

‘Better the car than us.’

‘Do you think he would?’

‘I really don’t know. I don’t mind taking precautions that turn out to be unnecessary. It’s “if only” that would be embarrassing.’

I drove out onto the motorway and at the first intersection went off it and round and started back in the opposite direction.

‘More avoidance of “if only”?’ Danielle said with irony.

‘Do you want acid squirted in your face?’

‘Not especially.’

‘Well … we don’t know what sort of transport Nanterre’s got. And one car can sit inconspicuously behind you for hours on a motorway. I’d not like him to jump us in those small streets at Chiswick.’

When we reached the next intersection I reversed the process and Danielle studied the traffic out of the rear window.

‘Nothing came all the way round after us,’ she said.

‘Good.’

‘So can we relax?’

‘The man who’s coming to fetch you tonight is called Swallow,’ I said. ‘When the car comes for you, get those big men on the studio reception desk to ask him his name. If he doesn’t say Swallow, check up with the car-hire firm.’ I slid my wallet out. ‘Their card’s in there, in the front.’

She took the card and passed the wallet back.

‘What haven’t you thought of?’

‘I wish I knew.’

Even with the wrong direction detour, it was a short journey from Windsor to Chiswick, and we arrived in the streets leading to the studio a good hour before six-thirty.

‘Do you want to go in early?’ I asked.

‘No … Park the car where we can sit and look at the river.’

I found a spot where we could see brown water sliding slowly upstream, covering the mud-flats as the tide came in. There were seagulls flying against the wind, raucously calling, and a coxed four feathering their oars with curved fanatical backs.

‘I have … er … something to tell you,’ Danielle said nervously.

‘No,’ I said with pain.

‘You don’t know what it is.’

‘Today was a test,’ I said.

Danielle said slowly, ‘I forget sometimes that you can read minds.’

‘I can’t. Not often. You know that.’

‘You just did.’

‘There are better days than today,’ I said hopelessly.

‘And worse.’

I nodded.

‘Don’t look so sad,’ she said. ‘I can’t bear it.’

‘I’ll give it up if you’ll marry me,’ I said.

‘Do you mean that?’

‘Yes.’

She didn’t seem overjoyed. I’d lost, it seemed, on all counts.

‘I … er …’ she said faintly, if you don’t give it up, I’ll marry you.’

I thought I hadn’t heard right.

‘What did you say?’ I demanded.

‘I said …’ She stopped. ‘Do you want to marry me or don’t you?’

‘That’s a bloody silly question.’

I leaned towards her and she to me, and we kissed like a homecoming.

I suggested transferring to the rear seat, which we did, but not for gymnastic love-making, partly because of daylight and frequent passers-by, partly because of the unsatisfactoriness of the available space. We sat with our arms round each other, which after the past weeks I found unbelievable and boringly said so several times over.

‘I didn’t mean to do this,’ she said. ‘When I came back from the Lake District, I was going to find a way of saying it was all over … a mistake.’

‘What changed your mind?’

‘I don’t know … lots of things. Being with you so much … missing you yesterday … Odd things … seeing how Litsi respects you … Betsy saying I was lucky … and Joe’s wife … She threw up, you know. Everything up. Everything down. She was sweating and cold … and pregnant