Riders

by Jilly Cooper

  Rupert was far less vulnerable. First, he was holed up in Suzy’s house, which was electric-fenced and burglar-alarmed to the teeth. Secondly, you didn’t try and interview a man-eating tiger. Rupert was in the kind of eruptive mood that kept even the press at a distance.

  “Jake was just doing his bit for Britain,” he told Billy on the telephone. “Unfortunately in this case, the bit happened to be Helen. Extraordinary. For seven years she never looked at another man. Then, according to Dizzy, for the last five months no one’s been able to see her ears for skirt.”

  “He sounds terrible,” Billy told Janey as he came off the telephone. “Do you think I ought to fly out there? The Beeb have offered to pay my fare and give me a fat fee if I’ll help Dudley do the commentary for the team competition.”

  “No, you ought not,” snapped Janey. “Rupert’s had it coming to him for years. I am not going to be left alone with Christy when he’s so little…nor,” she added to herself, am I going to let you loose in L.A. with Fenella Maxwell.

  Twenty-four hours limped by with no sign of Jake. On Thursday morning Fen was working Hardy in one of the big exercise rings. Normally the German team should have been using the ring at this time but they’d willingly swapped over with the British to fox the press and give Fen the chance of a little privacy. It was nearly ten o’clock and the sun was already scorching down. Hardy, missing Jake, was edgy and miserable. He had received so much adulation on Monday and Tuesday morning. Now, suddenly, no one wanted to admire the horse whose master had disgraced a nation.

  As she slowly cantered him around on the left rein, Fen pondered the horrors of the last two days. Rumors seethed. Jake and Helen had been sighted in England, in all parts of America, on a flight to Bermuda. Jake had grown a mustache, was wearing a false beard. Helen had dyed her hair, blond, brunette, even cut it all off. Last night Malise had made another stiff-upper-lipped plea on television for Jake to come back: “We will jump as a team and conduct ourselves like gentlemen.”

  “Is he referring to Griselda?” said Rupert.

  Rupert still keeps up the stream of flip remarks, thought Fen, allowing no one to see his black despair and utter humiliation. Malise seemed terribly upset, too. Fen herself had been in tears all night. She wished she could help Tory. Bloody Helen Campbell-Black, she thought savagely, not even able to hold off until after the Games.

  Fen’s hair was wringing wet beneath her hat, as was her T-shirt. The reins slipped between her damp hands. Suddenly she was overwhelmed by longing for Dino. She had never needed him more. She could have lain down and slept for a year in his arms. But she musn’t think of Dino or Helen; it only upset her. She must keep calm and psych herself into the right frame of mind for Sunday. Perhaps by some miracle Jake would come back.

  “Oh, Hardy, where’s your master?” she sighed.

  In the distance she could see the German team riding down from the stables in a cloud of dust to take over. She must make herself scarce before the press turned up. This afternoon, she thought wearily, she had to take Ivor to Disneyland again.

  Catching her not concentrating, Hardy gave a whinny and a great whicker of joy and carted her across the ring.

  “For God’s sake, you disobedient bugger,” yelled Fen, hauling ineffectually on his mouth, “where the bloody hell d’you think you’re going?”

  Hardy ground to a halt. Fen glanced up and gasped. For there, holding Hardy’s dark blue sweat rug, tall and golden as a Lombardy poplar in autumn, stood Dino Ferranti.

  “Hi, Hardy baby,” he drawled, putting up a not altogether steady hand to stroke the dappled face. “I’m real glad you haven’t forgotten me, just as I’m real glad your mistress’s language is a lousy as ever.”

  Dino had had a long and very trying nine months, but everything was compensated for when he looked up and saw the expression of incredulous, bewildered delight on Fen’s face, the expression on which left him in absolutely no doubt about how she felt.

  “You’ve gone blond again,” she muttered.

  “I know. I didn’t seem to score with gray hair.”

  “Oh, Dino, Dino,” she cried, and tumbled off Hardy into his arms. He kissed her so fiercely she had no doubt of his feelings towards her.

  “Oh, I love you,” she bleated incoherently. “I’ve missed you. I’ve been so so miserable.”

  “Me, too,” he groaned. “Oh Christ, darling, we’ve been so dumb.”

  As he held her tight, she could feel how much he was trembling and how his ribs protruded beneath the blue denim shirt.

  “You’ve got so thin,” they both said simultaneously, and then started to laugh. Next moment Fen’s laughter had turned to tears.

  “It’s so awful.”

  “I know. I’m real sorry, sweetheart.” He took her face in his hands, kissing her forehead and her nose and the tears spilling out of her eyes before he found her mouth again.

  “No, no,” she protested, when at last he freed her. “It was so awful for you about Manny. Did you get my letter?”

  “There was so much mail and I was so unglued I didn’t even get around to looking at it until yesterday. Hell, I needed you so badly. But I guess I couldn’t handle seeing you again in case you were still mad at me, or didn’t feel the way I did. So I chickened out and went home to lick my wounds. Then I heard about Helen and Jake buggering off. I figured you might need me as much as I needed you. Right? So here I am.”

  “Oh, I’m so glad,” said Fen, burying her face in his chest. “I was so aching to see you, it was the main thing that drove me on to get selected. I thought I’d die when Mary Jo said you weren’t coming. You won’t ever disappear again, will you? Life’s so awful when you’re not there.”

  “You try getting rid of me.” He was about to kiss her again when he said, “Ouch.”

  Hardy, irritably trying to tell them they were hopelessly neglecting a silver medal winner, had nipped Dino on the shoulder.

  Then all three jumped violently as a rousing chorus started bellowing, “Vy vos zey born so beautiful, vy vos zey born at all.”

  Swinging round, they found the entire German squad sitting on their horses, laughing their heads off. “And about bloody time too, my friends,” said Ludwig.

  At the entrance to the stables the inevitable jackal pack of reporters was hovering.

  “Heard from Jake?”

  “No,” snapped Fen.

  “How’s Tory bearing up?”

  “Haven’t talked to her today.”

  “Where’s he gone?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Oh, the bliss of having Dino there once more, to get rid of them.

  “Go on! Pack it in. Fucking get off our backs,” he said, hustling Fen and Hardy through the gates.

  “Dino, Dino Ferranti,” said one of the reporters with quickening interest. “You stayed at Jake’s barn last fall, didn’t you? What sort of guy was he?”

  “The greatest,” snapped Dino. “Not just as a rider but as a human being. If he walked out on the Games, he must have had a good reason, okay? I guess he wanted to protect Helen from her bastard of a husband.”

  On the way to Hardy’s box, Dino started kissing Fen again.

  “Give him to me,” said Sarah, grabbing Hardy. “You are in no fit condition. Take her away, Dino. She deserves the afternoon off. Make a change from taking Ivor round Disneyland.”

  Dino put his arm through Fen’s. “I’m staying at Carol Kennedy’s place just up the road. Let’s go there. At least we can be alone.”

  “I ought to have a bath,” said Fen, suddenly aware of her sweaty hair and clothes.

  “I’ll give you one,” said Dino. “It’ll take hours.”

  Fen blushed scarlet.

  “Dino!” shouted a voice.

  It was a middle-aged woman, with the kind of lean muscular body that looks better in breeches than in the summer dress she was wearing.

  “We thought you weren’t coming,” said her husband.

  “Changed my min
d.”

  “We were real sorry about Manny.”

  “Yeah, it was tough.”

  There was a pause. The couple looked inquiringly at Fen, whose hand was still firmly held by Dino. Aware she must look hot and shiny from being kissed, she hung her head. Dropping her hand, Dino took hold of her hair at the back and very gently yanked her head upwards.

  “You haven’t met Fenella Maxwell,” he said in the most drawling voice, “my future wife.”

  Fen jumped out of her skin, then looked up at him with such startled, anxious eyes that he let go her hair and put a comforting arm round her shoulders.

  “Truly?” she gasped.

  “Very, very truly,” Dino said, laughing.

  “Your future wife,” said the woman in delighted surprise. “Is that a fact, Fenella—er—Maxwell?”

  “Jake Lovell’s sister-in-law, you were too polite to say,” said Dino. “She’s with the British team.”

  “Well, congratulations,” said the husband, pumping Fen by the hand. “How long have you been engaged?”

  Dino looked at his watch and laughed again. “About fifteen seconds,” he said, “perhaps sixteen by now.”

  “Oh, wow! This may not be the best way of relaxing before a mega-competition,” said Dino, “but it’s certainly the nicest.”

  He eased himself out of her and collapsed onto the flowered sheets. Carol Kennedy’s house was near Suzy Erikson’s. Out of the window they could see the mountains.

  “I feel so relaxed I don’t think I’ll ever get up again,” said Fen.

  “It sure went through the top of the Richter scale,” said Dino. “Were you scared?”

  “Not as much as I thought I was going to be.”

  “Nor was I. It didn’t matter if we bombed; we’ve got all our lives to get it right. Shall we have lots of kids? My daddy’s dying to be a grandfather.”

  Fen rolled over. “Are you sure you want to get married?”

  “Don’t you?” he said, appalled. “Oh, yes, more than anything. I just don’t want you to feel trapped.”

  “I want to be trapped. You gotta make an honest man of me.”

  He leaned on his elbow, running his hand down her body, stroking the hollow of her stomach.

  “I’m going to feed you up.”

  “I’m sorry I was so vile in England.”

  “Well, I came on pretty hostile too. You were bent out of shape over Billy. I overreacted and backed off too hard so as not to crowd you.”

  “But all that stupid business with Enrico,” protested Fen. “Ouch! That’s my boob you’ve dug your nails into.”

  “Anyone else, I wouldn’t have minded, but he’s such a bastard. No, that’s not true. I’d have killed you if it had been anyone, I was so jealous.”

  “I haven’t been out with a single man since you left.”

  “What about married guys?” said Dino. Fen giggled. “Nor them, either. How about you?”

  “Um—well I did try to screw my way out of it, but it didn’t do any good. I knew I’d never love anyone else. I worked and worked. I had fantasies about getting the gold and dazzling you into loving me back.”

  Fen snuggled up to him. “You didn’t need a gold. God, I feel guilty feeling so ridiculously happy, when everything else is so awful.”

  She knew she ought to put a call through to Tory, but couldn’t bring herself to burst the bubble of bliss just yet. She looked at the lean brown length of him, reveling once again in the thick blond hair, the Siamese-cat eyes, the wide, curling mouth. “I never dreamed I’d end up with anyone as stunningly attractive as you,” she said humbly. “In fact, your looks have definitely improved with age. D’you think I ought to ring Malise just in case he thinks his entire team is doing a disappearing act?”

  “He knows.” Very gently Dino began to stroke the inside of her thigh. “I wanted to test the water, so I made sure I bumped into him first this morning. He told me where to find you. He also reckoned,” Dino smirked slightly, “you were going into a decline.”

  “I was not,” said Fen indignantly. Then, as Dino moved his hand upwards and began to slide two fingers in and out of her, she gasped and said, “Well, perhaps I was.”

  “Come here,” said Dino, bending over to kiss her. “I need a fix again.”

  In the end it was he who made her ring Tory. She heard the operator saying the call came from L.A.

  “Jake. Is that you?” Tory’s voice trembled with hope.

  “No, I’m afraid it’s only me, Fen. You okay? No, I’m awfully sorry, there’s really no news of him this end. How are the children taking it?”

  “We’re managing very well,” said Tory, in an unnaturally bright voice. “I just hope Jake isn’t too shattered by the press furor to come out of hiding.” She started to cry.

  “Oh, please don’t,” said Fen, feeling her eyes fill with tears. “Look, d’you remember Dino, Dino Ferranti? He turned up today. Have a word with him.” She handed the receiver to Dino.

  Dino was immensely kind but very practical. Had she got enough food in the house? Was anyone helping her with the kids and the horses? Who was fending off the press?

  “Everyone’s being marvelous,” said Tory, “but they’re so embarrassed. They were so proud of Jakey and were planning this huge Welcome Home bonanza. Now they don’t know what to do.”

  “Tell them to cheer for Fen. Angel, please don’t cry.” He raised a palm upwards in a particularly Latin gesture of despair, then said, “Listen, I’m going to get a night flight, right?”

  “Oh no,” whispered Fen in horror. “You can’t do that. I need you.”

  “I’ll be with you sometime tomorrow,” he went on. “Don’t bother to meet me. I’ll call from Heathrow. I’ll sort everything out. Well, he might do still; we’ll just cross our fingers.”

  Putting down the telephone, he gathered Fen into his arms.

  “I can’t bear it, not so soon after I’ve found you. I need you as much as she does,” she sobbed. “I’m sorry to be so selfish.”

  Dino let her cry, stroking her hair, cradling her.

  “It’s the most awful thing I’ve ever had to do,” he said, “but if I’m joining your family, right, I have a responsibility towards all of them. Things are simmering along at the moment, but if Jake doesn’t show on Sunday, the shit is really going to hit the fan. He’s already blown the monetary advantages of his silver. The press are gonna assassinate him for letting down his country and you’ve no idea of Rupert’s capacity for vengeance. Every door’ll be shut to him. He’ll probably be suspended for ten years.”

  “Oh, poor Jake,” said Fen in horror. “Why did he do it?”

  Dino brushed her damp hair and kissed her forehead. “I guess he fell in love. We know how potent that is. Helen was suicidal, frantic to escape from Rupert. Jake momentarily wanted someone glamorous to complement his new star status, probably wanted to deal the coup de grâce to Rupert. Nothing like cuckolding your enemy. All the same, I figure Helen’s to blame. However much Rupert hammers Jake for enticement, I guess it was Helen who pulled the plug out. She blew it to Rupert, knowing it would trigger Jake into leaving. But whatever happens, Jake’s on a collision course. Rupert’ll ruin them both.”

  He glanced at her watch. “I’d better book that flight.”

  As he came off the telephone Fen put her arms round him. “I didn’t believe it was possible, but I love you about a million times more than I did an hour ago; all the same I wouldn’t tell Tory about us yet. Other people’s happiness tends to push you over the top.”

  61

  It was like the House of Atreus, as disaster after disaster hit the British team. Despite every effort, Desdemona was still not fit, which meant that, unless Jake came back, Fen would have to ride Hardy.

  “He’s a misogynist,” grumbled Fen next morning, after he’d had her off for the second time. “I’ll never get him out of the collecting ring in this mood.”

  “Well, we’ve got to have someone whose round we can dro
p,” said Griselda, kicking Mr. Punch on and clearing the combination on a perfect stride.

  Bitch, thought Fen. May you be struck down by toads and pestilence.

  She spoke too soon. Coming back to the Olympic village that evening she found Griselda staggering out of the loo, as green as the elephant who ate the mushroom in the Babar books.

  “I’ve vomited fifteen times,” she announced, collapsing onto her bed.

  “Too many cyclists,” muttered Fen under her breath. “Shall I get a doctor?”

  “No,” groaned Griselda. “I’ll be okay.”

  By late evening poor Griselda’s temperature had gone up to 104 and she was admitted to hospital with suspected food poisoning.

  “And then there were three,” said Rupert next morning, as they had a final workout before the competition the following day. Despite his appearance of icy indifference, Rupert was in a terrible state. Rage against both Helen and Jake kept bubbling up inside him, corrosive as black bile. Despite the quantities of whisky he’d shipped each night in search of oblivion, he had hardly slept since they’d gone. Drink had never affected his eye in the past, but watching Humphrey Bogart movies on television all night hadn’t helped. In the relentless Los Angeles sunshine that morning, as he was cantering towards a huge upright, Jesus the Mexican decided to gallop across his path ten yards beyond the fence. Just for a second Rocky panicked, took off too early, clouting the heavy pole with his forelegs. Turning a somersault in the air, he crashed down with Rupert under him.

  By the time Fen, Malise, and Jesus the Mexican had reached them, Rocky had scrambled to his feet. Shaking himself gingerly, he decided he wasn’t hurt and cantered off. Rupert tried to get up, groaned, and fell back, clutching his shoulder.

  “What is it?” said Malise, dropping to his knees.

  “Shoulder,” said Rupert through clenched teeth. “Dislocated. Get me to a fucking hospital at once and get it put back. Jesus!”

  “Si,” said the Mexican. “I am here.”

  Just for a second a ghost of a smile flickered across Rupert’s face.