Jump! - By Jilly Cooper Page 0,250

He also turned out to be Rupert’s grandson, far more beautiful and drunk than anyone else, and he was buying most of the booze.

‘I wanna play Snarg-a-Trarg, I wanna play Snarg-a-Trarg,’ he kept saying.

‘You gotta girlfriend?’ asked Tresa, licking her lips.

‘Ah got five.’

‘Five?’ shrieked Michelle disapprovingly.

‘That still leaves two days free a week, if you’re up for it,’ said Eddie. ‘Snarg-a-Trarg.’

Lily Allen was followed by Michael Jackson, then by Lady Gaga.

‘He settled beautifully, switched gears going into the last, you’d think he’d just jumped in at the start,’ Johnnie Brutus was telling himself.

‘I’m going to have a crack at that tarty blonde,’ announced Dare Catswood, and came back very shaken. ‘It’s a bloke, tried to drag me into the Gents.’

‘Here’s Rogue,’ sighed Angel, ‘isn’t he gorgeous?’

Rogue had had a treble at Fairyhouse today and was riding there tomorrow, but had come back for the party.

To match his eyes he was wearing a kingfisher-blue sweatshirt which said, ‘I rode work for Rupert Campbell-Black and survived. Could you?’

As he walked in, girls nudged each other, tossed their hair and rucked up their dresses. Rogue glanced round, waved at Johnnie Brutus, scowled at Dare Catswood, then, clocking that Amber wasn’t at the table, made his way over to Tommy. She was sitting in a dark corner, making herself as inconspicuous as possible.

‘Hi,’ he said, kissing her. ‘Where’s Amber?’

‘So sorry, she’s not coming.’ Then, as Rogue’s face fell, ‘She’s just texted me, she’s gone to see her dad who’s in hospital in London.’

‘Do you know which hospital?’

‘I think she said the Marsden. She didn’t know you were turning up here.’

‘D’you want a lift home?’

‘I’m waiting for Rafiq.’

‘OK, see you.’ Ignoring the yells of ‘Rogue, Rogue,’ he was on his way to the door when Johnnie Brutus swayed after him.

‘Where you going?’

‘Back to Ireland.’

‘You just arrived. You’re working too hard, relax. I’ll find you a slapper, there are a couple at our table.’

Rogue glanced at Michelle and Tresa. Having just discovered he was Rupert’s grandson, they were laughing uproariously at Eddie Alderton’s jokes.

‘I’ve had them both and they were rubbish,’ said Rogue bleakly, and he was gone.

‘Where’d Rogue go?’ protested Eddie. ‘I wanted to talk to him. I want to ride Lusty in the Gold Cup but I guess Grandpa’ll put up Rogue. Thinks a lot of Rogue.’

‘Thinks a lot of himself,’ snapped Tresa.

‘Who was he talking to?’ drawled Eddie.

‘Tommy Ruddock, works in our yard.’

Eddie got out a pair of binoculars and stared through the gloom at Tommy.

‘That’s my Trarg.’

Michelle and Tresa screamed with laughter.

‘Have a crack at Lotto Briggs,’ advised a returning Johnnie Brutus. ‘Dare peeked into the ladies’ changing room at Cheltenham, said she wears grey underwear, has a forest down there and her girlfriend would geld you. But you’d win first prize, Eddie, you can’t get uglier than that.’

‘No, I’m going to try that Tarmy,’ insisted Eddie, ‘she might know something I don’t know about Rogue.’

Tommy tried to make herself even smaller. She was overwhelmed with longing. If only she were beautiful, like the other girls, jumping, swaying, their blonde hair swinging like the willows of Willowwood, showing off lovely legs in jeans or the shortest of minis.

She was used to melting into the background. Sometimes, out of kindness, girls dragged her on to the dance floor. Tommy was aware that tonight she looked particularly plain. She’d been up since five, ridden out four lots, driven to the races and back and bedded the horses down before coming here. She hadn’t slept last night, worrying quite unnecessarily how Furious would perform. But the rain, which had been great for him, had frizzed up her hair more than usual. The heat in the room had turned her pink face red, and she’d forgotten a powder compact to tone it down.

When she got to the races, she’d found someone had pinched Rafiq’s silks and Furious’s cheek pieces, so she’d had to rush round begging replacements from travelling head lads and valets. She suspected Tresa had nicked them but she mustn’t get paranoid. Oh God, they were all laughing and looking in her direction.

She supposed Rafiq was turning up because he’d hoped Amber would be here. Shy about going into clubs, he had asked Tommy to wait for him this evening. She drained her pina colada, then noticed the most beautiful man in the group, white-blond and Nordic, jumping down from the platform and fighting his way across the room.

‘Tarmy Ruddock,’ said the softest Southern voice.

Tommy started as the Adonis put two glasses of champagne

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