Mount!

by Jilly Cooper

  Harmony indeed looked wretched, deathly pale, with tear-stained eyes, and even more weight fallen off her.

  Rupert, unlike Geraldine, felt so sorry for her. How could that bastard Jan have led her on and even proposed marriage? It was like entering a pig for Crufts.

  Listening at the keyhole, Geraldine was outraged when Rupert immediately thanked Harmony for saving his and Banquo’s lives.

  ‘Look how grateful he is,’ he went on, when Banquo wagged his tail as Harmony joined him on the sofa.

  ‘I’m so glad he’s OK,’ she said.

  ‘Forgive my asking,’ went on Rupert, then weighed straight in: ‘How did you hook up with Jan?’

  ‘He came over to Valhalla to talk to Wang and Cosmo, then wandered down to the stud to admire Vengie. He was so good-looking – like a god – I couldn’t believe it when he sent me flowers and asked me out. No one’s ever asked me out before.’ As she hung her dark head, the tears started to fall. ‘Then he asked me out again, and again, said he loved me, then he proposed. Somehow, he bewitched me, said I owed it to Repay to sabotage Quickly’s bridle.’ Her breathy voice was coming in great gasps. ‘I’m the one who should be in prison – Eddie could have been killed. I’m so desperately sorry.’

  As Banquo nudged her in sympathy, Rupert came over and took her hand.

  ‘Look, you’ve been horribly manipulated. You deserve a fresh start. You’ve got a lot of friends here. Tarqui’s been pestering me to poach you since he joined us, Eddie’s told me how you looked after him at Valhalla, and helped him at the Breeders’, and Repay’s success is a testament to you.

  ‘Gav and Gala are getting married and they’ll want to go on a honeymoon. Gav ought to move into Gala’s cottage, which would mean the flat over the tack room will be empty. But Gav’d be terribly reluctant to move out, unless he felt someone who really loved and understood horses was taking over. How do you feel about moving in, as Assistant Head Lad?’

  Harmony’s mouth fell open, showing a white tongue. Rupert wondered when she’d last eaten.

  ‘Are you offering me a job?’ she gasped.

  ‘I am.’

  ‘Oh, I’d love it, there’s nothing I’d like better. I don’t deserve it. I promise I won’t let you down.’

  ‘You’ve lost so much weight, you can ride out. We’re about to have a parade to celebrate Quickly’s World Cup victory. So, you can kick off by helping to make the horses look spectacular. Penscombe expects.’

  98

  Penscombe expected and Penscombe got, helped by the most glorious day. Lambs raced across the fields, midges jived, celandines shone like little gold suns in the lush spring grass, birds singing their heads off nested in the hedgerows. Lit by chestnut candles all along Rupert’s avenue, Eddie led the gleaming troop on Quickly, who was flaunting his red World Cup saddlecloth.

  They were flanked by an equally beaming Lark on Delectable and Gala on Chekov, and by Meerkat on Geoffrey. Gav walked beside them, fleetingly resting a hand on Gala’s thigh. They were followed by Louise riding Mrs Wilkinson with Chisolm bleating at their heels. The only sombre note was the black armbands worn by the riders in memory of Love Rat.

  Swinging into Penscombe High Street, where he’d once kicked out wing mirrors, Quickly enjoyed the crowds thick on the pavements. There was Gee Gee cheering on Meerkat, and Colin Chalford, Mr Fat and Extremely Happy, looking much more attractive in a sharp blue suit than in his gorilla onesie. He was hand-in-hand with Rosaria, whose other hand showed off a beautiful sapphire. Both had been so thrilled Geoffrey had been invited to take part, and Colin had contributed three dozen bottles of Bollinger to liven up the party.

  Past the village shop the troop clattered where Chisolm nicked more grapes, past the Easy Lay where punters, catching sight of the ravishing Delectable, hurried inside to back her in the Guineas.

  As they reached All Saints, the vicar came out, blessed them and praised them and the Lord for their victories. Next moment, Constance Sprightly rushed out.

  ‘Where’s Gavin Latton? You still owe me a bunch of lilies, but well done.’ Then, catching sight of Quickly, ‘Oh, there’s Little Mucker, that’s Master Quickly’s stable name. Well done, Little Mucker,’ and Eddie and Lark couldn’t stop laughing.

  On to the garden of the Dog and Trumpet, where tulips, forget-me-nots and wallflowers were getting a bashing as a gratifying number of locals and press spilling out into a next-door field, were getting stuck into the Bolly and admiring a replica of the vast World Cup on the table.

  Dennis, the landlord, had provided a splendid spread of quiches, sausage rolls and sandwiches, with baked potatoes and great beef and ale pies in the oven for later. Dora, jumping on to the table beside the World Cup, took the microphone to introduce the stars, starting with Eddie and Quickly, now in his World Cup Winners’ rug.

  ‘Quickly did it,’ replied Eddie over the cheers. ‘We had to ditch the bridle in the second furlong so it was a long way home. But he took care of me, running straight and true. Even when he was exhausted and overtaken at the end, he found another gear.’

  ‘All without a bridle?’ asked Channel 4’s Alice Plunkett, putting her plate of quiche down on the table so she could pat Quickly, who promptly snatched up the quiche.

  ‘We were a bridleless couple,’ grinned Eddie, then reaching out for a nearby Lark’s hand and kissing it, ‘This is Quickly’s stable lass Lark and she and I are going to be a bridal couple, because we’re getting married very soon.’ And the photographers went wild.

  ‘What’s happened to Sauvignon’s baby?’ called out the Scorpion.

  Whereupon loyal Quickly provided a diversion by mounting Delectable.

  ‘Stop it, Quickers,’ chided Eddie. ‘Why can’t you save it for marriage like everyone else?’

  And everyone roared with laughter.

  ‘What sort of character is Quickly?’ asked the Cotchester Times.

  ‘Quickly is himself,’ said Eddie philosophically.

  Dora then introduced winners Delectable and Chekov, and Tarqui who’d ridden them so dazzlingly and who, despite a shoulder in plaster, proudly held up his enchanting newish baby to endear himself even more to the press.

  Everyone was asking after Safety Car, to be told he was recuperating at home after his dreadful ordeal. Dora didn’t add that Marketa had refused to join the party because she was still so worried about him. Lark and Bao, however, were interviewed about his rescue, until Lark burst into tears remembering the horrors, whereupon Eddie, in order to comfort her, handed Quickly over to Harmony.

  It was then time for Dora to introduce Geoffrey, who was getting on so famously with Mrs Wilkinson he had to be dragged away to meet his ever-growing fan club.

  Etta, Rosaria and Colin were also being much photographed as the owners of the first and third horses in the World Cup.

  ‘I’m so sad Valent isn’t here,’ said Etta, ‘but you must both come to supper when he gets back.’ Then, as Geoffrey bustled back to Mrs Wilkinson’s side: ‘They really like each other. Perhaps Wilkie should have another foal.’

  People were getting stuck into the beef and ale pies and asking where the hell Rupert was. Rumours were already circulating about Wang and Sauvignon, and that someone had tried to murder Rupert.

  ‘A lot of us have wanted to do that,’ quipped Matt Chapman.

  But they all cheered their heads off and shouted, ‘Long Live the King!’ when he finally arrived.

  ‘Poor man, he looks blasted,’ whispered Rosaria, ‘like some great proud tree whose leaves have been swept away by a hurricane …’

  ‘Totally devastated at the thought of losing Taggie,’ whispered back Etta.

  Rupert took the microphone, thanked everyone for coming. He then added how proud he was of his grandson Eddie, a true Campbell-Black, and Quickly, and how well Tarqui had done with Blank Chekov and Delectable, of whom they had very high hopes in the Guineas. He was, in addition, particularly grateful to Meerkat for tugging Eddie back on to Quickly when the
bridle broke.

  ‘How’s Taggie?’ shouted the Sun.

  ‘She’s getting on well, still a bit tired. I’m also lucky to have a marvellous stable staff. Dora’s a great Press Officer,’ another huge cheer, ‘Lark and Bao were brilliant at rescuing Safety Car, but I particularly want to pay tribute to Gavin Latton, who when I had to go home during the World Cup, took over masterfully. He’s the real deal.’

  ‘Hear! Hear!’ yelled Gala, who was holding Delectable and Chekov.

  Gav had been perched on the little wall dividing pub garden and field, watching Gala and the goings-on, rejoicing in the fact that he wasn’t terrified of parties any more. Raising his glass of Coke in gratitude at Rupert’s tribute, he went back to blowing a dandelion clock.

  ‘She loves me,’ he was saying as each shiny silver floret whirled away. ‘She loves me, she loves me, she loves me …’ until the last one floated off. ‘She loves me.’ Then, looking up, he smiled across at Gala and her heart turned over, as she realized that with Gav’s arms around her, she would never fear the chill of an English winter again.

  The Editor of the Cotchester Times was chatting to Dora. ‘You handled that presentation very well. Ever thought of coming to work on a local paper?’

  Bao was talking to Etta.

  ‘I am so happy, my father phone my mother this morning and I think they together get again, and perhaps they find my sister.’

  ‘That is wonderful news,’ sighed Etta. ‘I hope he and Valent are OK. I hate thinking of them on that same continent as that beastly Wang.’

  Happily, next moment her mobile rang and she moved out of the throng.

  ‘Valent darling, how lovely, what time is it?’

  Two minutes later, she came hurrying up to Rupert. ‘Valent wants to talk to you – he has some very exciting news.’

  Taking her mobile, Rupert also moved away from the crowd, amused to see Dennis the landlord surreptitiously knocking back a half pint of Bolly and Chisolm gobbling up Geraldine’s blue silk scarf.

  ‘How’s it going?’

  ‘Bluddy marvellous. Wang’s been arrested. Got far too big for his jackboots. Seems he’s been trying to muscle in on the government for weeks. His first wife’s family have had the guts to come forward and expose him for bumping her off and, according to Tong, endless other skulduggery has come to light. Anyway, Tong and I were at the World Cup meeting when Wang rolls up behaving like the Great I Am, barged into the official lunch, demanding places at the top table for himself and Sauvignon, and was promptly taken into custody.’

  ‘My God, Gala’ll be pleased.’

  ‘She will, and in China, when they fall, they really fall. Tong says he’ll be stripped of all his assets – gold, houses, horses, warehouses crammed with tusks and rhino horns, the bastard. Tong’s over the moon, doubts if Wang will ever come out.’

  ‘Good. He can share a cell with Jan.’

  ‘The best news,’ crowed Valent, ‘is that Wang brought New Year’s Dave with him. Sauvignon convinced him she knew about horses, but she had no idea how to look after the poor animal and the Chinese had no idea what a valuable horse he is, so I bought him back dirt cheap.’

  ‘Christ, that’s fantastic. He can come back to Penscombe and be the next Leading Sire. Get Tong to sort out the Galloper at once and bring Dave home before anyone finds out. Christ, that is good news.’

  ‘And a stallion Wang paid forty million for, called Boo Sucks, is evidently infertile.’

  ‘Second sucks and so does Boo.’

  Team Penscombe were delighted to see Rupert grinning from ear to ear for the first time in days, so delighted he actually hugged Etta as he gave her back her mobile.

  Over at Valhalla, Cosmo was still lying through his teeth, trying to convince Gablecross that Jan had acted unilaterally.

  ‘Guy was totally obsessed with bringing down Rupert. Isa and I aren’t fans so we told him to get on with it.’

  ‘Sabotaging the bridle?’

  ‘That was Jan.’

  ‘Sabotaging Quickly in the Derby and the Leger. Hacking into Rupert’s phone. Stealing Safety Car?’

  ‘That was all Jan.’

  Cosmo was relieved when the telephone rang although there was no PA to answer it. It turned out to be Sauvignon, her voice for once conciliatory.

  ‘How’s China?’ asked Cosmo.

  ‘Hard to tell, the smog’s so thick. Look, Wang’s been arrested and is in custody.’

  ‘So’s Jan – it’s the In place to be.’

  ‘I misjudged the situation. My aim was to help you find out what Wang was really up to, meet the top people here, make the Chinese government realize how worthwhile it would be to deal with you and Isa.’

  ‘How very kind of you.’

  ‘But now Wang’s inside, I need to get home. Can you organize a flight for me?’

  ‘I’d hang in there, Sauvie,’ purred Cosmo. ‘There are more billionaires in China than anywhere else. You’re in a really good place. Got to go,’ and he hung up. ‘I’m afraid that Sauvignon is corked,’ he told Gablecross.

  Having broken the news of Wang’s arrest to an overjoyed Gala, Rupert headed for home, delighted how well Harmony seemed to be getting on, particularly with Quickly, who hadn’t bitten anyone all day.

  He was even more delighted when he got back to Penscombe, to find a perked-up Safety playing football with Marketa, Gilchrist and Cuthbert while his sheep friends dozed in the sun.

  Taggie, on the terrace, was laughing at their antics, looking adorable in a pale-blue poncho.

  Still carefully avoiding sore breast and cracked ribs, they hugged each other. They were interrupted by the telephone. It was Bianca, ringing from Perth.

  ‘Oh Mum, Mum, wonderful news. We’re coming home. Two Premier League managers are fighting to buy Feral for next season. Feral wants to keep an eye on his mum and I want to look after you and Dad.’

  ‘How heavenly,’ sighed Taggie. ‘That is the best news.’

  ‘What’s more, Valent’s son Ryan is also after Feral. He’s desperate for Searston Rovers to go up to the Championship League and he needs Feral as striker to help him, so we’d be just around the corner.’

  ‘That’s even better. Gosh, how lovely, I must tell Daddy.’

  ‘I know Dad’s heartbroken about Love Rat so he needs a new interest. Why doesn’t he buy shares in Searston Rovers? I think he’d be brilliant at co-running a football team, and he could help them buy some really good players.’

  ‘Only if he can sign up Safety Car,’ said Taggie.

  Acknowledgements

  Having finished a novel on jump racing six years ago, and loving the people and horses who inspired me so much, I was wondering how I could start another on flat racing, when I got an amazingly lucky break. At a riotous Racing Post lunch in 2011, I managed, by some fluke, to forecast the most winners of the afternoon’s races. My prize was a trip for two to the Dubai World Cup at Meydan racecourse, owned by the great Sheikh Mohammed bin Rashid al Maktoum. Setting off with Felix, my son, who is even more bats about racing than I am, we met everyone from Frankie Dettori to the great late Sir Henry Cecil and after a conflagration of fireworks, watched a heroic race in the desert under an indigo sky. What better climax to any novel, so this ending became my beginning.

  In Dubai, I was again lucky to meet marvellous trainers – first the wise, witty and forthright Mark Johnston, and his radiant wife, Deirdre, who invited me to stay in Paradise, their yard spread over a stunning valley in Yorkshire. Here I met their large, highly competitive and very happy stable staff and their super sons Angus and Charlie. I was particularly helped by Hayley Kelley, farrier Justin Landy and the prettiest majordomo, Mikaelle Lebreton, also a glorious photographer, who, with editor John Scanlon, produces Mark’s marvellous monthly magazine, the Kingsley Klarion. During my visit, I was also nobly driven around by stable jockey, Joe Fanning, and Jock Bennett, Mark’s assistant trainer, winner of the immensely prestigious Godolphin Stable Staff of the Year award.<
br />
  While staying with the Johnstons, I was especially charmed by an Irish terrier called Gnasher, who did high fives, and the video of one of Mark’s horses, Hurricane Higgins, who, if he didn’t feel like racing, lay down in the starting stalls, thus inspiring my hero horse Master Quickly in Mount!

  In Dubai, Felix and I also made friends with silver-fox charmer Robert Cowell and his lovely wife Ghislaine who later invited us to stay at their gorgeous yard in Newmarket. Here we met their colt Prohibit, who got very up himself after winning the mighty King’s Stand Stakes at Royal Ascot. Prohibit’s rider, ex-jump jockey Jim Crowley, was particularly helpful explaining the rigours and self-control needed to transfer to the flat, which one of my heroes, Rupert Campbell-Black’s grandson Eddie, endures in Mount!

  Also in Dubai, I made other lovely new friends. First, Diana Cooper, a passionate racing enthusiast, and for twenty-four years a stalwart of Godolphin, Sheikh Mohammed’s international racing operation, and former star jockey Richard Hills, now racing manager to Sheikh Hamdan al Maktoum, and his wife Jackie, who have a parrot called Rodney, who is always urging Richard to ride faster.

  Hospitality reaches such extremes of generosity in the racing world, I can only rename it Horse-pitality. Back in England, for example, another brilliant trainer, Hughie Morrison, and his ravishing wife Mary, entertained me at Royal Ascot and at home, where Hughie gave me an insight into the rights and wrongs of racing, and helped me with an inflammatory speech which enrages the great and good in Mount! Mary is a huge help to Hughie because she cherishes his horses and his stable staff, as does another ravishing and wonderfully funny friend, Yvette Dixon. Yvette is married to ebullient owner and breeder Paul Dixon, ex-supremo of the Racehorse Owners Association and ex-Chairman of the Horsemen’s Group, who invited me many times to their joyful yard in Nottinghamshire, from which their immaculately tailored son Scott is making a name for himself as a trainer.