As they walked back through the drizzle to the minibus, which had been parked in Wellington Square to avoid traffic jams, the crowd going the same way were muted, as is usual when a favourite is beaten. With rain in their dry throats, the birds were singing so sweetly that spring was on the way.
Searching in her bag for a handkerchief, Etta realized she had left her mobile switched off.
‘I knew Bonny and Valent would get back together again,’ crowed Phoebe.
‘Don’t worry,’ Painswick tucked an arm through Etta’s, ‘Wilkie’ll live to fight another day.’
As Valent clambered into the passenger seat of Rupert’s dark blue helicopter a quarter of an hour later, Rupert demanded, ‘What have you done with that pretty girl? She seemed rather keen on you.’
‘She’s going back to London in my chopper.’
‘Isn’t she expecting you to go with her?’
‘Yes, but I’m not, I’ve got things to sort out here.’
As Rupert’s helicopter took off into the lilac evening, Valent caught sight of an utterly outraged Bonny beckoning from the window of his red and grey helicopter.
‘Funny old day,’ said Valent.
Rupert was still brooding: ‘A man would have been able to fend off that kind of bullying from Killer and Johnnie. Amber’s too slight, and what the hell was she doing necking with Marius in the middle of a Gold Cup? World’s gone mad.’
Perhaps Amber needed a father figure now Billy was on the way out; Rupert was overwhelmed with sadness.
Valent felt ashamed. He’d just won one of the greatest races in the world, and had no right to be depressed because Etta hadn’t bothered to ring him and had deliberately switched off her mobile. Business, however, prevailed.
‘I’ve got to come clean, Rupert,’ he said in embarrassment. ‘What am I going to do about six hundred thousand cooddly Wilkinsons and four hundred thousand cooddly Chisolms arriving from Kowloon?’
‘You what?’ Over the engine Rupert wondered if he’d heard right.
‘If they’d been delivered as promised before the Gold Cup,’ said Valent, ‘I’d have sold the lot, but the ship got held oop by pirates. Probably expected liquor or cocaine but didn’t have much use for a cooddly pony, even one who shakes hands and sticks her tongue out. The cooddly Chisolm’s almost cuter, got a primrose in her mouth.’
‘And her bloody diary got confused with my column. Remind me to murder Dora when I see her,’ said Rupert, who was trying not to laugh. ‘Are you talking about stuffed toys?’
‘A million of them,’ said Valent gloomily. ‘That’s why I offered to buy Mrs Wilkinson, to stop any infringement of copyright.’
‘How much for?’
‘Six hundred thousand.’
‘Jesus.’ Rupert thought for a minute then he said, ‘Your only hope is to enter Mrs Wilkinson for the National. The public still adore her.’
Etta would like that, thought Valent, her favourite book was National Velvet.
‘I’ll train her for you,’ said Rupert. ‘We’ve got three weeks.’
‘I’d have to check with Marius.’
But Rupert was leaping ahead: ‘And once you’ve bought her you can dump that ghastly syndicate. Harry Herbert copes brilliantly with syndicates at Highclere, but I’m not being pestered by your job.’
129
Over at Throstledown, the crimson and royal-blue flag was flying again. Furious had won the Gold Cup and as the first Muslim to ride the winner Rafiq received massive publicity. He had also notched up a tenth win and could qualify to ride in the National, but his delight was tempered. Every newspaper led on his amazing turnaround, his jailbird past.
‘“Marius rescued us both,”’ wrote the Scorpion, beneath a lovely photograph of Rafiq hugging Furious. ‘“Furious and I found each other in prison.”’
Before, only a sprinkling of people were aware he’d been inside and was a possible terrorist threat. Now the whole world knew.
He’d switched off his mobile but he knew the Mafia would soon return with their death threats, ordering him to pull Furious and other horses. After all this publicity, the sophisticated techniques of MI5 would also soon find out he was speaking to the enemy and pack him off to a detention camp in Eastern Europe, never to return. What would they do to darling Tommy? Vakil, whom he distrusted, had caught them kissing – so Rafiq went back to ignoring Tommy, hurting her dreadfully.
Nor were Marius and Amber very happy with the press as they woke up, on the morning after the Gold Cup, in Marius’s double bed where the sheets had hardly been changed since Olivia walked out. If only they could have confirmed their commitment and reached insensibility having sex all night!