Jump. Part 38

Fractionally mollified, Corinna sat down.

'What are you reading?' asked Bonny.

Corinna waved Macbeth Macbeth, which after the earlier tour in America was being given a short West End run. 'I immerse myself in every part, even relearning lines is tough in so short a time.'

'I don't have a problem with lines,' Bonny opened her big eyes even wider, 'but I guess I'm that much younger.'

'Your generation don't bother to absorb the meaning,' said Corinna rudely. 'Valent sent us a tape of The Blossoming The Blossoming, couldn't make head nor tail what it was about. None of you enunciate these days.'

'You're probably used to an older theatre audience,' said Bonny sweetly, 'some of them not wearing hearing aids, so you've got to shout.'

'My generation combined clarity with subtlety,' snapped Corinna.

'I found The Blossoming The Blossoming very moving,' said Debbie, who had maddeningly plonked herself next to Corinna to be near Bonny, on whose left a grinning Alan had seated himself. very moving,' said Debbie, who had maddeningly plonked herself next to Corinna to be near Bonny, on whose left a grinning Alan had seated himself.

'Do you see Valent as the older man in The Blossoming The Blossoming?' he asked.

'There are elements in the movie which are reflective of the politics of our relationship,' Bonny nodded sagely. 'Valent is a guy, intelligent, kind, compa.s.sionate' where the h.e.l.l was he? 'and strong enough to stand up to me.'

'Could have fooled me,' muttered Joey, who was still marking the Racing Post Racing Post. 'We better order some grub or we'll miss the first race.'

Joey was not really enjoying himself. He knew from Bonny's frosty looks she didn't approve of him skiving and being part of the syndicate. He missed Chrissie and his mate Woody. This lot were a bit posh. He was also very worried about Woody, who was getting himself snarled up trying to save the Willowwood Chestnut, the beautiful tree in Lester Bolton's garden that had provided conkers for generations of Willowwood children.

Bolton, h.e.l.l-bent on felling it, had been heavily but surrept.i.tiously backed by the Major, whose view of Cindy Bolton undressing was blocked by the tree.

Woody had taken yet more time off that he could ill afford to attend the last day of the enquiry. But the Major, randy old goat, reflected Joey, must be so sure of victory, he'd come to Wetherby instead.

'Are you married, Alan?' Bonny was asking.

'Not in this postcode,' quipped Alan. She really was pretty.

'My first boss,' s.h.a.gger boomed up the table, 'told me: if you're not at the races three days a week, my boy, you're fired. That's where your clients are. I hope you'll become one of my clients, Bonny.'

'Isn't s.h.a.gger amusing?' Bonny murmured to Alan, then calling down the table: 'And you must be Toby and Phoebe, who live in Wild Rose Cottage, my favourite house in Willowwood.'

'I cannot tell you what big fans Toby and I are, Bonny, congrats on your BAFTA,' cooed Phoebe.

Toby, in a new yellow, red and brown check suit which looked good on his tall lean body, was quivering with excitement.

'I work in a gallery,' added Phoebe. 'I hope someone's painting you, Bonny, you are so lovely.'

'Lovely,' sighed Seth to Alan. 'Delicate as a wood anemone.'

More like bindweed, thought Joey darkly, white, innocent face concealing the murderous tendrils that curl round and round the towering plant before toppling it.

'The Blossoming sounds so moving,' cried Phoebe, who was gazing at Bonny in such wonder that Debbie was getting quite jealous. sounds so moving,' cried Phoebe, who was gazing at Bonny in such wonder that Debbie was getting quite jealous.

'Shall we order some grub?' said Corinna.

'The point is,' Phoebe hissed to s.h.a.gger, 'is Valent paying? Because if he isn't, I'll skip the first course.'

'And I'll have cheese and biscuits,' said s.h.a.gger.

'I am so hungry,' said Alban and ordered Yorkshire pudding and onion sauce for a first course and Yorkshire pudding and roast beef for a main course.

'You can have Yorkshire pudding and treacle for dessert,' said Debbie, consulting the menu.

'Good idea,' said Alban.

No one was anxious to fork out for an entire round.

'Get another bottle of champagne,' Corinna ordered Seth.

'I'll get it,' said Alan.

Bonny, who was vying with Corinna to dazzle the waiters, announced that she'd like a gla.s.s of water. 'And a castle of sweet seasonal melon with elderflower-scented compote.'

'As a starter?' asked Phoebe hopefully.

'No, as a main course.'

s.h.a.gger, whose huge hairy nostrils were twitching as roast loin of pork went by, looked as though he was going to cry.

'You ought to get something hot inside you, Bonny,' said the Major heartily.

'Preferably yourself,' said Seth.

'Don't be disgusting,' snapped Debbie.

'If Valent's paying,' whispered Phoebe, 'I'll have smoked salmon, if not, I'll skip a starter.'

'I'm going to have steak and French fries,' said Joey. 'I've got a monkey on Wilkie to do the business, good little girl.' Then he glanced up at the television: 'f.u.c.kin' h.e.l.l.'

'Joey,' thundered the Major.

'She's not running.'

Sure enough, on the blue ribbon along the bottom of the screen beside 'NR' in the 3.15 were the words 'Mrs Wilkinson'.

'f.u.c.king h.e.l.l,' said Alan and Seth simultaneously.

'What's going on?' demanded the Major.

'Mrs Wilkinson's been withdrawn.'

'But we've come all this way,' squawked Debbie, 'and booked a room.'

'Marius ought to be sacked, why in h.e.l.l hasn't he notified us?' said s.h.a.gger, who hadn't had a bet. 'Toby and I have taken a day off work.'

'I'm so sorry.' Running up the table, Phoebe put an arm round Bonny's shoulders.

'I'll phone Oakridge,' spluttered the Major.

Marius of course wasn't answering his mobile.

'Can't organize a p.i.s.s-up in a brewery,' seethed s.h.a.gger.

Painswick's number was engaged too.

'Perhaps that's why Etta and Valent have been so long down there,' said Alan. 'Poor little Wilkie. Shall we go down to the stables?'

The runners were already going down to the start for the first race.

'We're owners, we should have been consulted,' puffed the Major.

'We've come all this way in the b.l.o.o.d.y minibus,' said Corinna furiously. 'Seth turned down a commercial. And we won't get to go into the parade ring.'

'This is most disappointing,' said Bonny, who was clearly furious.

Next moment Valent stalked into the restaurant, blue collar turned up, hair dark with rain, and the room went quiet, such was his impact.

'He was in Midsomer Murders Midsomer Murders,' said a Check Republic wife.

'No, I'm sure he was Mr Rochester a few years ago. Very dishy,' said her friend.

'No, he was in The Bill The Bill.'

Valent as usual looked as though he brought the stormy weather in with him, black brows lowered, mouth set, followed by a cringing, apologizing Etta. He strode straight up to the table. Lunchers hastily pulled their chairs in to let him through.

'What's going on?' bl.u.s.tered the Major. 'Oakridge is refusing to answer his mobile. d.a.m.ned disgrace. We've come all this way, no one's consulted us.'

'Is Wilkie OK?' asked Alan.

'She wasn't, worked herself up into a terrible state,' said Valent. 'Furious took a piece out of her. I'm sorry you've come so far but Marius is quite right not to run her. Very gutsy of him. It's too dark, going too heavy, like quicksand, mud flying around. She's a great little mare, let her live to fight another day. She'll not let us down.' Then he glanced ruefully up the table at Bonny flanked by Seth and Alan. 'Sorry, luv, I'm afraid that's racing for you.'

'Oh Valent.' Bonny's eyes filled with tears and, running down the table, she disappeared into his arms.

'We'll all get our money back and put it on Furious instead,' said a relieved Valent. 'He belongs to Marius, who said anyone who wants to can go into the paddock to see him off.'

'I'm so sorry,' stammered Etta, opening her purse, 'I'd like to buy a round.'

'Don't be silly, luv.' Valent looked round at the hungry, apprehensive faces, the hovering waiters, the empty gla.s.ses. 'Better have some more bubbly. I'd like a pint,' he told the hovering waiters. 'Now what are you all going to eat?'

'I'd like smoked salmon for a starter,' said Phoebe.

'I'd like smoked salmon and roast loin of pork,' said s.h.a.gger.

'This is Etta, Bonny,' said Valent.

Relief was the primary emotion on Bonny's face as she looked Etta up and down. 'Delighted to meet you,' she said truthfully.

'Come and sit opposite me, Valent,' called out Corinna, who'd been busy powdering and lipsticking.

'Go and get dry, Etta,' ordered Valent.

Such a sweet man, he made everything all right, thought Etta, dizzy with grat.i.tude as she dried her hair on the roller towel in the Ladies. G.o.d, she looked tired, the shadows under her eyes were darker purple than Debbie's hat.

Taking the seat next to Alan on her return, she whispered, 'Bonny is so beautiful.'

'Only if you shut your ears and think of England,' he whispered back. 'The pillow talk would be excruciating, although it'd be a good sleeping pill. There was a terribly funny moment when she went up to Direct Debbie and said, "Oh, you must be Etta, Valent's told me so much about you" and evil Seth said not nearly sotto voce enough, "That's not Etta, Etta's beautiful."'

'Seth didn't,' gasped Etta. 'He didn't?'

Alan laughed. 'He did, angel. Seth's got a very soft spot for you, got a very hard spot for Bonny.'

'Seth said I was beautiful?'

Ringing to check if Painswick was OK, Etta found her very indignant.

'Marius didn't bother to tell me he'd scratched Wilkie. Telephone's never stopped ringing, people wanting to know if she's OK, complete strangers. She's got a lot of fans.

'Chisolm's driving us all crackers, she never stops bleating. She escaped to the village and got into Ione's vegetable garden. She's eaten Mich.e.l.le's scarf, don't tell her. Wish Furious good luck. Rather horrid for Rafiq having Rogue on his precious baby.'

66.

Furious didn't have an owner except Marius. That afternoon he nearly didn't have a jockey.

Rogue and Dare Catswood got caught up in traffic after a smash on the A1. Dare Catswood left his car in the road and ran all the way to Wetherby, making it just in time. Rogue, held up by all the policemen gathered round Dare's car, didn't.

'I expect he's got caught up with another girl,' mocked Mich.e.l.le.

'I expect he's scared of Furious, the great wuss,' snarled Amber.

At that moment Rogue rang Marius.

'I can't get through, terribly sorry. I might make the ride on History Painting.'

Driven crackers by the Major and Painswick's grumbling, Marius, who'd reached screaming pitch, was forced to give the ride to Amber, who was very reluctant to take it.

'Furious is a b.u.g.g.e.r,' she snapped. 'He's carted me and decked me enough times and once he's got me on the ground he'll go for me.'

Rain was lashing down, hats being blown away, umbrellas turning inside out like wounded crows, as the runners in the 3.15 splashed round the parade ring. Besides Furious, they included a grey with a lot of ability called Umbridge, which Harvey-Holden had recently run on the wrong trip to keep his handicap down, and Fur Calf, whose name had somehow got through the Weatherbys watchdogs, a lovely dark brown gelding trained by Isa Lovell and owned by Amber's old schoolfriend, the extremely wicked and dangerous Cosmo Rannaldini.