were killing her after two days at Royal Ascot, had gone back to being babied by Debbie and Norman. She was now asking Uncle Alban to put a fiver on Mrs Wilkinson, which she would probably never pay back.
Alan thought it would be nice when school broke up and darling Trixie and Tilda could come racing again. He had noticed Painswick blossoming. Marius, grateful to her for working so many weekends, had invited her to the races that afternoon and left Tresa in charge of the office. Painswick had bought a floral-print tent with a matching hat. It was her first time out not wearing Hengist’s scarf. Work in the engine room had given her knowledge about the horses, the lads and Marius which fascinated the syndicate, and which would be particularly useful for the book on Mrs Wilkinson – if he ever wrote it.
Pocock had also taken the afternoon off and was advising Etta on her continuing dream of creating a rose called Valent Edwards: dark red shot with black and deeply scented.
‘You can use my greenhouse,’ he told her.
Etta has no idea how much he adores her, thought Alan.
Bolton, in green gumboots high as waders on his fat little legs, and a Barbour that came down to his ankles, had buttonholed the Major.
‘I gave Marius a computerized spreadsheet with potential races on it for all the ‘orses in the yard. He hasn’t fucking looked at it. I insisted lovely Michelle lead up Wilkie and Furious, he ignored me. When’s he going to ‘ave an open day, so we can socialize with uvver owners?’
‘I’ll have a word.’ The Major felt his Portuguese villa sliding into the Atlantic. At least he’d forecast the rain and an east wind which was excitingly blowing Cindy’s citrus-yellow dress over her fascinator, but was not able to dislodge Etta’s magenta monstrosity, which she’d taken off during the picnic.
‘Don’t forget your lucky hat, Etta,’ ordered Debbie as they drifted towards the paddock.
‘Don’t listen to that old bat,’ whispered Cindy, tucking an arm through Etta’s. ‘Come and ‘ave a bevvy at the weekend, I’ve got loads of ‘ats you can try on or we’ll find you something nice on the internet. You’re a pretty lady, Etta, and Lester agrees.’
Led up by Tommy, Mrs Wilkinson looked a picture, gleaming pewter and silver as the curly white and dark grey clouds raced overhead. The crowd admired a weeping willow Tommy had imposed by transfer on her sleek quarters and laughed at Chisolm, who’d snatched a large mouthful of pansies from a tub on the way in.
‘Hello, Wilkie, hello, Chisolm,’ they cried.
Only that morning an old lady had written to Marius asking for a set of Mrs Wilkinson’s shoes and a signed photograph.
Bolton was still complaining loudly that Michelle wasn’t leading Wilkie up. Having legged up Amber, Marius retired to the bar, fingers caressing a treble whisky.
The syndicate gathered outside the bar to watch the race. Ten horses went down to post. One mare dumped her jockey, jumped the rail and took off into the country.
‘Must be Furious’s sister,’ said Alan.
Etta looked at the cathedral spire rising out of the trees. ‘Dear God, bring Wilkie home safely.’
‘I do a lot for the planet,’ Bonny was saying. ‘I couldn’t go out with a man who didn’t recycle.’
‘That’s why you’ve bought Valent an exercise bike,’ mocked Seth.
‘I’m fed up with all this Green stuff,’ grumbled Cindy. ‘Ione’s got Lester geed up now, said we should have dimmer lights everywhere. She’s given ‘im a wind-up torch – he’s going to need it to find the clit – and she’s even got ‘im on to solar-powered sex toys now. He put my vibrator out on the balcony to recharge yesterday and it got rained on.’
‘For God’s sake, shut up,’ muttered Bonny.
‘They’re off,’ said Seth, picking up his binoculars.
The sun came out.
Mrs Wilkinson was travelling beautifully. By the end of the first circuit, the field was so close, their black shadows were like nine clubs on a playing card. Mrs Wilkinson was edging up to the leaders. The syndicate yelled in delight at each long glorious jump. Marius was so delighted he came running out to join them.
‘Come on, little girl, come on.’
‘She’s going into the lead,’ yelled Seth.
The runners were still on the far side of the course when, four from home, on the big screen Amber could be seen drifting away from the field.