‘Look, look,’ cried Poppy, ‘there’s Uncle Alan kissing Miss Flood. We’ll have to ask her about it when we’re back at school.’
And there was the vicar hugging Woody and Mrs Travis-Lock doing a war dance with the Major.
‘Can we go racing next time, Granny?’
Even Marius looked ecstatic and told the press he’d never expected Mrs Wilkinson to return so spectacularly after six months off. Corinna had once again covered Mrs Wilkinson with red lipstick kisses. Dora made her shake hooves with handsome Lord Vestey, the Chairman of the Course, and Chisolm took a bite out of his yellow check suit.
Finally, after they’d collected Mrs Wilkinson’s cup, the syndicate gathered round and said they’d like to send a message to Etta Bancroft, who’d rescued Wilkie in the first place.
‘You were right all along, Etta, you kept faith,’ said the Major, mopping his eyes. ‘We all miss you, it’s not the same.’
‘Come home soon,’ cried Debbie.
‘That’s you they’re talking about,’ said Drummond, fingering his twenty pounds and looking at his grandmother with new respect.
Next moment her mobile rang. It was Amber, in heaven.
‘Oh Etta, Rupert congratulated me for the first time, and at the bottom of the hill Rogue told me to go for it and I could win. Wasn’t she wonderful, and Marius put five hundred quid on her at 10–1. He must trust me now. Only sad thing, Dad couldn’t make it.’
As Etta listened, wondering what had become of Valent, she suddenly caught a glimpse of Bonny in a exquisitely cut grey-flannel coat, with snowflakes in her tousled ash-blonde hair, lovely as ever. She was flanked by Seth and Valent, who were both looking so proud.
‘It’s my first win,’ Bonny was telling Derek Thompson, and how it had enriched her life experience, and how spiritual and epic a journey it had been, getting Mrs Wilkinson back on the race track.
‘You were nothing to do with it,’ Etta shouted indignantly. ‘You wanted to dump her.’
‘She was a birthday gift from my partner Valent Edwards,’ went on Bonny, giving Valent a kiss, ‘and I’m a very proud owner.’
‘C’est Bonny Richards,’ said Mr Marcel in awe.
As the syndicate swarmed off to the Royal Box to celebrate, Etta sat down on an apple with one bite out of it, feeling the euphoria drain out of her. Then she felt bitterly ashamed.
It should be enough that Wilkie had made such a dazzling comeback. Why shouldn’t Bonny, Seth and Valent enjoy themselves?
‘Mummy, Daddy,’ cried Poppy as her parents swept in, ‘Mrs Wilkinson won, and Miss Flood and Uncle Alan have been on telly and Granny cried and cried.’
It would have been nice if Romy and Martin had been even fractionally enthusiastic. One plus was that Drummond had been totally converted to racing.
‘Granny had a bet for me,’ he said, waving his twenty-two pounds. ‘Can I have a bet tomorrow?’
Fortunately an enraged Martin and Romy were distracted by a journalist, alerted by Mr Marcel, rolling up to interview Etta about her great victory.
‘Don’t forget to mention the Sampson Bancroft Memorial Fund,’ hissed Martin.
Next day the papers were full of Rogue Rogers hitting Killer O’Kagan across the weighing room and also being suspended for ten days. So the battle for champion jockey was still wide open.
Etta returned home feeling very flat, and was vastly cheered by a message on her machine from Valent, saying how wonderful Wilkie had been, and how they’d all missed her at the races.
She was almost more touched that Priceless was absolutely ecstatic to see her. He had lost a lot of weight and he smiled and smiled when he saw her, snaking his head round and round her hips in the most loving way. They were both so tired from not sleeping, they fell into bed, Priceless immediately taking up three-quarters and Etta not minding, even when Gwenny joined them in the middle of the night.
90
To cheer up the gloom of winter, a mega jaunt was planned in early February. The syndicate would watch Mrs Wilkinson run at Warwick, then move on to Stratford to stay in a hotel and see Seth and Corinna open in Antony and Cleopatra, followed by a party afterwards.
In the preceding weeks, a great din could be heard issuing from the Old Rectory as the two stars hurled insults and objects and re-enacted the play together. As a demanding, charismatic applause junkie, with the ability to charm, seduce and manipulate, the part of Cleopatra might have been made for Corinna. Having been with