twenty wins. Knowing Mrs Wilkinson’s first race must be soon, she rang in every day asking for rides. She even offered to work for nothing if Marius allowed her to school the horses.
Michelle had great delight in fielding these calls until Amber shouted, ‘The only way to get put up is to sleep with the trainer, and you know all about that,’ and hung up.
49
By late autumn Mrs Wilkinson was flying over hurdles with Tommy on her back and Marius was so pleased with her progress, he entered her for a midweek maiden hurdle at Worcester. The Willowwood syndicate became frightfully excited, revving up for their first race. They had exerted huge self-control and stayed away, but had constantly pestered Etta for news of their horse.
Many had missed dropping in to see her at Badger’s Court. Alban and Pocock had called in as an excuse to see Etta, Dora and Trixie on their exeats and Joey and Woody on their breaks. Alan had come for black coffee when swaying home from the pub, Miss Painswick for a gossip and Chris and Chrissie bearing bread and butter pudding, which in the pub had been renamed ‘Mrs Wilkinson’s Favourite’.
Neither Shagger, the Weatheralls nor the Cunliffes had visited in the past, but now boasted about ‘our horse in training, sired by Rupert Campbell-Black’s Derby winner’.
The Cunliffes had returned early from Lanzarote and the Major had most unusually ducked out of a meeting of the Willowwood Improvement Society, which he was supposed to be chairing. Instead he emailed the rest of the committee to watch the 2.15 at Worcester on Wednesday, where they might see ‘a most familiar face’ in the winners enclosure.
As the race was midweek Shagger, Phoebe and Toby took a day’s holiday and the train down from London, having emailed most of the City, Fulham and Chelsea to say that Rogue Rogers would be riding ‘my horse in the 2.15’.
To everyone’s disappointment, Seth was filming. Dora and Trixie were stuck in school. Dora, however, alerted the press to look up the court case and the point-to-point at which Mrs Wilkinson had beaten Bafford Playboy, who had since won three races. Niall the vicar was equally fed up to have a two o’clock funeral but had exhorted his tiny congregation to pray for ‘the safe return of our Village Horse on Wednesday’.
Joey just skived, leaving his indignant team – all fans of Mrs Wilkinson – applying wallpaper at £8,700 a roll to the dining room at Badger’s Court, with a portable television. They all had huge bets.
Direct Debbie bore Miss Painswick off to Cavendish House to do some shopping. In the next-door booth, Painswick heard a mobile playing ‘Edelweiss’ and Debbie’s voice saying: ‘Indeed – the two fifteen at Worcester. Our National Hunt horse, Mrs Wilkinson, will be making her hurdling debut under rules.’
To mark the solemnity of the occasion, Miss Painswick splurged on an olive green coat in Whiskas brown to go with the blue hat to match Hengist’s scarf and emailed her old boss that he might see his protégé Rafiq at the races. Debbie, meanwhile, bought a royal-blue trouser suit and a vermilion sombrero to brighten the greyest day.
A heartbroken Pocock didn’t dare abandon Ione midweek. Tilda too was unable to leave her class, who’d all drawn good luck cards for Mrs Wilkinson and would be allowed to watch the race in the staff room at the end of the dinner hour. Tilda, as Romy and Martin were being thoroughly unhelpful, had heroically offered to take Drummond and Poppy home after school to give Etta a chance to celebrate after the race.
‘If she wins, you’ll be guest of honour at the pub that evening,’ promised Alan, who was not getting on with his book on depression.
Etta, who couldn’t afford to buy anything new, took her charcoal-grey coat to the cleaners, to rid it of Cadbury and Priceless’s hairs and muddy paw prints. She tried pulling her old pale blue beret on to the left side of her head, but her ear stuck out hideously through her hair on the right. At least that looked better than the check cap and matching scarf with snaffles on in tan, easily Etta’s worst colour, which Direct Debbie and Painswick had brought her back as a treat from their shopping trip.
Expectation, however, was wildly high.
Two days before, Jase the farrier put four light racing plates on Mrs Wilkinson’s little feet, ‘so she’ll no longer feel she’s running in gumboots’. Jase returned, as usual,