Jenny agreed, but wanted to make one thing clear.
'Worth a fortune or not, Garry, 'Harmonica will never be sold again. Mrs Dilworth was going to breed from her ... I'd like to do the same.'
'You're right, Jenny, what a smashing brood mare she'll make.'
'Yes, and all the better if we can make her a champion first.'
'We'll drink to that,' said Garry. They raised their glasses of red wine.
'To 'Harmonica,' said Jenny.
'To this year's Champion Hunter Chaser,' said Garry.
'To Jenny and 'Harmonica,' said Emily.
Garry still had to drive about fifty miles, and Jenny then had to drive back to Dublin. They confined their drinking to one glass of wine each.
He pushed the bottle across the table to Emily.
'You finish the rest of that, Emily ... you've earned it.'
'Yeah, but what about my farting machine? I've to drive home too,'
'I'll drop you off,' suggested Jenny.
'Yeah, and I'll pick you up in the morning,' said Garry.
'Okay then.'
Having emptied the bottle, her cheeks had turned a rich crimson, her eyes glistened, and her shyness completely banished. She was in sparkling form as they left for home.
Back in the yard, they checked all the horses.
'Spot-on,' said Garry, 'that Johnny is a great little man ... works even better when we're not here.'
With 'Harmonica' snug in her stable, savouring the supper that Johnny had left for her, they had a quick coffee before Jenny would set off for Dublin. Though still a little tipsy, Emily realised that perhaps Garry and Jenny would like to have a little private chat - she excused herself.
'I'm just going out to put the 'farting machine' in the shed ... I'll wait at the car, Jenny.'
'Okay, Emily, I'll be there in a minute.'
She did want a private minute with Garry. It was the end of a perfect day and she wanted to thank him in her own special way.
'Tired?' he asked, 'you look a bit jaded.'
'Do I? I feel great. And you?'
'Oh I'm okay, but then I don't have to drive ninety miles.'
'Don't worry, Garry ... I'll be fine.'
The silence that followed allowed their eyes to meet for an intense moment. She saw in his the same desire she herself was aching with. She knew he had been holding back since the day they first leaned over the stable door. She often wished he hadn't, but always admired his restraint. It was hard on him, alone and lonely. It was hard on her too - it couldn't go on - her resistance was now at breaking point.
'I want to return the compliment to you, Garry.'
Oh. What compliment is that?'
'That big hug to-day ... remember?'
His little shrug didn't deter her. Stepping towards him, she swung her arms around him, hugging him tightly. He hugged her even more tightly, pressing her breasts to his chest, brushing his face against her soft hair, his warm breath fanning the flame that was now blazing inside her. Trembling, she knew this was the moment she had longed for, a fleeting moment, but it had to come and now that it had arrived, she would savour it.
He too had been dreaming of this moment, but delaying it, scared of the consequences. Holding her head in both hands, gazing into those big inviting eyes, he lowered his mouth to hers, their lips touched, tentatively at first, then a little stronger, more urgently, finally merging in a blissful oral union, a taste of the purest honey, to which they knew they were both now addicted.
For Jenny, this was the sensation she had longed for, craved for. She was now savouring it, delirious at the touch of his body against hers, responding with eagerness and enthusiasm, returning every delicious movement of his lips and tongue.
They held the moment for as long as they could, not wanting it to end. They knew it was the start of a mysterious, adventurous, and highly dangerous journey, leading to where, they didn't know, or care - they just wanted more. Moving apart slightly, sharing smiles of love and tenderness that spoke louder and clearer than words, they relaxed in mutual joy and contentment.
'Got to go, Garry.'
'Yeah ... I know ... what a pity ... take care, Jenny.'
'I will.'
It was dark outside. He saw her to the car, watched as the Mondeo rolled up the lane and disappeared into the night.
* * *
A Word in your Ear
The training room at Global Life Headquarters was in keeping with the international standing of the company. Designed to the most modern standards, it was equipped with all the up-to-date technology, and situated on the top floor of the prestigious office block. All new recruits to the sales force of the company spend time there. Happy days of learning and motivation, giving them the knowledge and confidence to compete and succeed in the competitive world of life assurance.
They had to be good - better than other sales-persons. They were selling a concept, and intangible product, that was rarely bought voluntarily, the last item on people's shopping lists, and usually the first to be dropped in times of financial restraint.
The new group of trainees were in their seats when Jenny entered. It was mid-way through their ten-day 'Basic Training Course' and their subject for that day was 'Underwriting.' This was Jenny's day. She liked working with new recruits, an interesting change from her normal routine, something she looked forward to.
With a sweeping glance that took all twelve into focus, she checked that they were relaxed and ready to start. They appeared to be a cheerful bright-looking lot, rearing to go. No doubt, she thought, like all the others before them, they dreamed of quickly becoming millionaires in this lucrative business. It was possible, but only a very few made it. Still, it was a good starting point. Ambition was important - without it they had no chance at all.
'Good morning,' she greeted them cheerfully. The reply was in harmony and equally bright and cheerful.
'God, you are all looking very fresh and well for a Monday morning.'
They laughed. One cheeky chap with a foxy head and a rich Cork accent quipped:
'You're not looking too bad yourself.'
Very true. Her shapely figure was enhanced by her neatly fitting pin-striped suit, cream blouse and wine silk cravat. Her pale features blended nicely with her shining blonde hair.
She laughed. 'Thank you ... yes, I feel good too.'
She always encouraged a bit of banter at the start of a new session. It helped to ease any tension, made interaction between them easier, less formal.
Don Lenihan arrived, greeting Jenny and the new trainees with a formal 'Morning everyone.'
He had an authoritative air about him befitting his position as Chief Executive. Jenny stood back as he prepared to address the class. Having extolled the virtues of the company, he turned towards Jenny.
'At Global Life, we pride ourselves on having the best training programmes and the best trainers. To-day we are fortunate to have someone of the calibre of Jenny here. She has an outstanding international reputation in the field of underwriting, and was recently awarded a high honour by our company in Canada. We can only spare her for one day, so make the most of her great knowledge; it will help you greatly in the years ahead.
What's got into him? She was smiling gracefully but flabbergasted at what she was hearing - Lenihan praising her? There must be some catch - an ulterior motive. She got it. A belated thanks for her underwriting of Tom Bailey's big Policy. She could easily have thrown it out, but gave him the benefit of doubt. It must have meant a lot to Lenihan - no doubt, Mrs Bailey, his 'platonic friend' is rewarding him generously.
The morning session went great. As well as being fresh and cheerful, this lot were brainy too. That made her task easier, more interesting, challenging, more satisfying. As the ten young men and two women were filing out for the coffee break, the impish red-head from Cork waited behind the others. Jenny knew he had something to say to her but was hesitating.
'Yes Tony, is there something bothering you?'
&n
bsp; Widening his eyes, he took a deep breath and in his rich Cork accent, spat it out:
'Christ that was some ride you gave that mare yesterday!'
Knocked back on her heels, she looked at him startled, flattered and bewildered.
'How? She paused. I mean ... who told you?'
'Sure wasn't I there! Didn't I back her ... t'will never be seen again!'
'What?'
How you stayed on her at the downhill fence ... t'was amazing ... and then to go on and win ... Christ you're a bloody genius.'
'Thanks a million, Tony ... will you do me a favour?'
'Course I will ... why wouldn't I? Didn't you do one for me yesterday.'
'Well Tony, I'd like if you didn't mention 'yesterday' to anyone here. I just like to keep the horses separate from my work ... will you do that for me?'
'Done,' said Tony, 'but com'eer ... when are you running again?'
'Oh I don't know yet. I'll tell you later.'
'Sound as a pound ... don't forget me though.'
Thanks Tony, I won't.'
* * *
'How is he now, Nurse?'
'At the moment he is stable, Doctor. Dr Deane says the next few hours will be crucial for him, said you may have performed a miracle.'
'Lets hope so. Keep me informed, will you please?'
'Yes, Doctor, I will.'
'Thank you.'
Ken was checking with 'Intensive Care.' Danny Ward had been rushed there from the medical ward where Ken had resuscitated him, managing to keep him alive after a massive heart seizure. It was a serious emergency.
Danny, a small, thin, retired man in his early seventies, had been admitted two weeks previously with mild chest pains. He was kept under observation, his condition improved and he was almost ready to go home. They were all going to miss him, his sharp wit, good humour, charm and personality endeared him to everyone, especially Doctor McKevitt and the nurses. Ken kept winding him up, and between them they entertained the other patients, lightening up the whole atmosphere of the ward. Now it had gone all quiet.
Ken was having a soothing cup of coffee in his office. Time to reflect. It had been a long and eventful stint since he left home in the morning. He was on early duty and didn't wake Jenny before he left. He knew she had won the race yesterday, woke him last night to tell him. He had tried to sound as happy for her as he could - she deserved it. As long as she came home safe, that's all that mattered.
He returned to work, continued his rounds, which had been interrupted by Danny's emergency. Mrs Croke was a wealthy old lady from Cork city. A bit self-opinionated, she didn't like having to come to Dublin for what she thought was basic medical treatment at enormous expense - a reflection on her beloved Cork. Her family insisted, she had no choice, her cancer was progressing dangerously. She had relented on condition that one of them would visit her every day. The 'Cork Examiner' and the 'Cork Evening Echo' would also have to be delivered to her bedside, and she would have to receive a daily report on her six cats and two terriers.
Ken liked her, and despite her mis-trust of young'ish doctors, she found him to be one of the better ones. He cajoled her, made her feel important, kept asking her about all the news from Cork. She gladly filled him in - he was becoming an authority on life in the southern city.
About to move on from her bedside, he picked up the sports section of the 'Cork Examiner' which had slipped on to the floor. As he laid it on the table beside the old lady's bed, a big colour picture jumped up at him, hit him between the eyes, now wide and staring at it in amazement.
The headline simply said: "A word in your ear"
He studied it more closely. The penny dropped. It couldn't be - it was. The Point-to-Point race yesterday. Jenny. Yes, it definitely was Jenny. She was perched on top of the mare's head, her white bottom pointing towards the blue sky, as if she was whispering in the mare's ear, while she sprawled on her belly in the rich grass of County Cork.
The caption underneath said:
"Denis Cogley's brilliant action shot captures the thrills and spills of Point-to-Point racing. Jenny Howard McKevitt holds on for dear life after her horse, 'Harmonica' was brought down. The partnership made a miraculous recovery and went on to win the race."
Ken was astonished, speechless. Holding up the picture, he looked at it from every angle. It was still the same - incredible. His head was spinning. He was trying to make sense of it - he couldn't. He thought a little deeper. Here he was, desperately trying to save and prolong lives, and there was his wife trying to end hers. It was crazy, stupid and irresponsible. The old lady hadn't noticed.
'Can I have this, Mrs Croke?'
'What Son?'
'This sports section of 'The Examiner.'
'Take it with you boy ... I'm not into sport ... only when Cork are in the All-Ireland.'
'Thanks.' He folded it up, took it to his office, put it in his bag. He would wait for his opportunity - it would be a weapon he might find a use for.
* * *
Jenny rang Garry during her lunch break. She just had to speak to him - couldn't wait any longer. She pretended that her call was to enquire about 'Harmonica.' How was she this morning? How did she come out of her race? Was she sound, not stiff or sore? Garry seemed in great form, positive and reassuring. No worries about the mare - looked a picture this morning - she never felt better.
That was great news for Jenny. She loved his enthusiasm and positive approach, always emphasising the good news. He was a real motivator, a breath of fresh air.
She had a few other burning questions for him that she was a bit reluctant to ask. How was he feeling himself to-day? How was his thinking? Did he regret last night? Was he angry with her? Did he see what happened between them as the start of something dangerous to be nipped in the bud or something to be nurtured to it's beautiful, logical conclusion. She had planned the questions carefully, but asking them wasn't easy - perhaps in fear of disappointing answers.
She herself had no apprehensions or misgivings. The longing for him was burning inside her, intensifying every minute since last night. She prayed that he was feeling the same about her, that he would tell her without asking - ease her pain and longing.
'How were you this morning, Jenny? Sound ... fit and well?'
'One hundred per cent, Garry.'
'Great'
'I mean physically now, Garry, mentally, I was a bit different.'
'Oh?' He wanted to hear more. He himself had spent most of the night lying awake thinking about her, still tasting and savouring the sweet touch of her beautiful moist lips, the exquisite pleasure of her body locked in his arms.
'Ah sure Garry, you know my mind was a bit jittery after our little encounter.'
'That's funny ... I was a bit like that myself.'
'Oh yeah?'
'Yeah, a nice feeling though ... still have it actually.'
'Are you serious or winding me up, Garry? Tell me about it.'
'Ah now Jenny, I couldn't explain a feeling like that ... you tell me.'
'Oh no. I couldn't over the phone ... next Saturday, I'll give you a full report ...can you wait 'till then?'
'I'll try. Know something Jenny ... this could be dangerous.'
'Ah, never mind Garry, we're two of a kind ... we can't go wrong ... we're in this together.'
'You say the nicest things, Jenny.'
'I know ... so do you.'
Anyway, I have to go back to work now, Garry.'
She was happy with what she had heard - had got her answers. Her heart was beating a little easier, her mind steady and relaxed. She could now focus better on the afternoon's work.
'Take care, Garry ... mind yourself ... see you Saturday.'
'Bye Jenny ... look forward to that ... bye.'
* * *
Turmoil
Jenny thought Saturday would never come. When it did, she got up bright and early, checked the weather, a beautiful crisp morning, cold and dry, great for driving. She spent a little extra time in f
ront of the mirror, a bit more attention to detail, determined to look her very best. She felt great. This was a new lease of life, a kind of new momentum in everything she did, a feeling of wellbeing, and bubbling with anticipation for the day ahead.
Humming as she waited for the jug kettle to boil and the toast to pop up, Ken's arrival in the kitchen startled her.
'Oh,' she exclaimed, 'I didn't expect to see you up so early this morning ... golf is it?'
'No actually. I've decided to take a trip down south with you.'
Her sudden stare of bewilderment seemed to puzzle him.
'Now,' he stammered, 'that's if you don't mind, Jenny.'
She laughed nervously.
'Oh Ken ... sure you know I don't mind ... why should I? Didn't I ask you several times to come and you refused.'
'I know ... I found it difficult, Jenny ... it's not easy now either, but I want to go.'
That worried her. Why now? Something must be driving him. He wants to check out the scene in Dream Valley. Could he be getting suspicious? He might have noticed the big change in her since last weekend. It must have been obvious, and he was always very perceptive.
On the journey down, they chatted and admired the countryside. He was driving his Honda and she was giving him a running commentary on all the interesting landmarks she had noticed on her weekly trips. He seemed to be enjoying it all, until they left the main road and he had to negotiate the narrow lane that led down to the stables, with it's hairpin bends and uneven surface. He wasn't impressed, slowed to a crawl, worried about his suspensions.
Garry saw the strange car arriving in the yard, didn't realise at first that it was Jenny sitting beside the driver. He was down the yard attending to a horse being held by Emily - little Johnny was mucking-out stables further down.
Another glance, Garry spotted Jenny. He didn't recognise the driver, perhaps someone she got to drive her down. They got out of the car. Ken stretched and looked interestingly around him, taking in the whole place in one sweeping glance. Jenny folded her arms, leaned against the car, waited for Garry to approach them.
Dream Valley Page 17
