She shook her head in defeat. Rhys slapped his thigh.
‘There you go. You see? There’re no prizes for runner-up even if like today it was only by a neck. The history books aren’t going to say: first, Zodiac, but only be a neck to Virtuoso. It’s just going to say: first, Zodiac. Fine, so he won the Cheltenham Gold Cup last year, but Virtuoso’s a much better horse.’ He lay his head back against the sofa and sighed. ‘Yet I can’t find anything that I could’ve done differently.’ He gestured to the screen, unaware that the race had already finished. ‘The more I watch it, the more I realise he wasn’t travelling well. He just wasn’t himself today. I’m going to tell Jack to get some blood tests done tomorrow just to see if he’s picked up something we haven’t spotted.’
Frankie stayed silent. She knew Rhys was a determined man. She knew he liked to win, that he thrived on winning whereas she was just glad to finish a race alive and if she won, it was a bonus. She had never done this sort of research, watching and rewatching races.
Her gaze flickered back to the screen. What better time to start than now? In shot was Ta’ Qali being led around the parade ring prior to the novice hurdle race. Lather dripped from his saddle cloth like soap suds and he was sweating between his hind legs.
She’d wanted to win that race, there was no doubt about that yet she hadn’t thought to watch his previous races to see if she could learn by Rhys’s mistakes. She’d just presumed that once she was astride she would know what to do. No wonder she was halfway down the leaderboard in the amateur jockeys’ rankings. It wouldn’t be so bad if she was only getting the odd average ride, but she was riding for the best stable in the country.
‘No wonder Dad never pays my job any attention,’ she muttered.
‘What?’
Frankie looked at him in surprise.
‘Did I say that out loud? Sorry, I was just thinking.’
‘No, go on. You’ve listened to me ranting. What’s on your mind?’
Frankie shrugged and fiddled with the corner of the scratchy blanket. She didn’t want to appear disloyal to her father and she didn’t want to sound like a whinger. But then, as she relived the other night at her parents’ house, the frustration began to accumulate and she couldn’t keep it in any longer.
‘It’s just that Dad never seems to notice me these days. I thought that would change when I got the job at Aspen Valley, but if anything, it’s just got worse. The other day, I told him that I was riding Peace Offering in the Kim Muir at the Festival and all he did was gaze at the photos of Seth winning at Cheltenham. Then only when he realised how rude he was being did he say “oh, that’s very good”.’ A long forgotten memory weaved itself into her mind—her father joyous, ecstatic, slapping Seth on his back with pride and ushering Vanessa to get the camera out. She sighed. ‘And really, who can blame him? Look at Seth—he won the amateurs’ championship in his first year and that was before he even started riding for Jack.’
It was Rhys’s turn to sigh, but his was impatient.
‘Jesus, Frankie. Seth wasn’t perfect.’
‘What do you mean?’
Rhys pulled himself closer on the sofa to where Frankie was sat cross-legged. She held the blanket up against her chest protectively, suddenly scared by the seriousness of his expression. He placed his hand on her knee.
‘I mean you talk about Seth like he could do no wrong, but look what’s really going on. Everyone’s made him into this beaming ray of sunshine and left you completely in the shadows.’
‘Seth was a ray of sunshine,’ she replied, her voice shaking. ‘He never made me feel like I was in the shadows. I wasn’t. He made sure I was always happy. Seth was wonderful. He was brilliant.’
Rhys’s hand tightened over her knee. He shook his head. He looked at Frankie with a pained expression.
‘No, he wasn’t. I’m sorry. I’m not trying to upset you.’
Frankie hitched her knee out of Rhys’s grasp.
‘Then why are you saying this?’ she said, accusingly.
‘You remember Gracie? Seth’s girlfriend?’
She nodded hesitantly. She felt like she was speeding down a twisty road in the dark without headlights. Where was he going with this?
‘Did you know that he was cheating on Gracie?’
Frankie stared at him then scrambled to her feet. The iciness of the room only accounted for part of the chill which spread through her body.
‘What? No—stop saying that. It’s lies.’
‘No, it’s not. It’s the truth. Seth was sleeping with June—you know, June from the yard—right up until the day he died.’
She looked down at him, wide-eyed, searching for some glimpse of dishonesty. But his face was solemn.
‘Why are you telling me this?’ she whispered.
‘Because you and your folks have created this golden Adonis boy who never made any mistakes. I bet your parents haven’t said a bad thing about Seth since he died. I doubt whether they can even remember a moment when he wasn’t excelling. But that wasn’t him. He did occasionally fuck up.’
Frankie’s eyes welled and she shook her head. She tried to fight off this dark shadow from dimming her mental image of Seth. He looked so beautiful, any hint of darkness lessened her pleasure at remembering him. With a cry, she turned and ran back to the bedroom. She didn’t want to know any more.
‘Frankie! Wait!’
She heard his uneven footsteps following her and she looked around the darkened room, crazily trying to find a place to hide.
‘Go away!’ she said when he appeared in the doorway. She threw a pillow at him and he ducked. Frankie threw herself onto the bed and covered her head with another pillow, blocking her ears.
‘I’m not trying to upset you—’
‘Then why are telling me these things?’ she said through a mouthful of cotton and goose feathers.
‘He was human,’ he went on. ‘Like you, and like me.’
She felt the bed sag as he sat down beside her. She raised herself to a sitting position, but still clutched the pillow to her chest.
‘Seth was good,’ she whispered.
‘He was good. But he wasn’t perfect. I look at you and I see you trying your damnedest to live up to him, to make your parents as proud of you as they were of him. But you and your parents have made him into some sort of god, and you’re never going to equal a god.’
Frankie crumbled. She felt the sheets crunch as Rhys moved closer. His arms folded around her, strong and comforting, just as he had done earlier that day.
‘Listen, Frankie, Seth was great. Everyone loved him and maybe that’s where he went wrong. June loved him too, yet because she was the Other Woman, nobody knew to ask her how she was doing after he died.’
‘Poor June,’ she murmured. Rhys handed her a Kleenex and she mopped her eyes. Suddenly, all the wooden conversations she’d had with the stable lass made sense. June didn’t really want to be close to her, she just wanted to feel close to Seth.
‘She was there when he died too,’ Rhys continued. ‘And I never knew how scared she must have been—not until today.’
Frankie gave him a questioning look.
‘I love you,’ he whispered. ‘I mean I care for you a lot. I just don’t want to see you hurt yourself.’
Frankie stopped mid-nose-blow.
‘What did you say?’
Rhys’s body tensed against hers.
‘I said I don’t want to see you hurt yourself,’ he said guardedly.
She pulled away so she could see him properly.
‘No, before that.’
Rhys swallowed.
‘I care for you?’ he said dubiously.
Her heart pounded in her chest.
‘Before that. Did you say you love me?’
‘Maybe. Actually, yes,’ he said, nodding with more conviction. ‘Do you think you could not hate me after everything I’ve said?’
‘You weren’t lying? Even if it was to make me feel better in some weird sadisti
c way?’
He shook his head sadly. Frankie’s heart palpitated. He loved her. He, being Rhys Bradford and her, being Frankie Cooper. He leaned forward to kiss her, his breath tickling her lip. She let him draw her towards him against the pillow. With a calloused but tender hand he stroked her hair behind her ear.
‘When I saw what was happening with you on Ta’ Qali, it scared me to death. I could see what would happen if you fell. It made me realise what you mean to me.’
Lying beside him, Frankie felt the enormity of that chaotic race.
‘You saved me,’ she said with a faint smile. ‘Like a guardian angel.’
Rhys’s shoulder rose and fell beneath her cheek as he sighed.
‘I’m no angel, Frankie.’
They lapsed into silence, her thoughts twisting and turning, trying to get a grasp on everything that had happened today. As she got used to the idea that her idol had stumbled—he hadn’t quite fallen—she began to question her own aspirations. She questioned her father’s expectations. Rhys loved her. She mightn’t be certain enough to echo his words, but she could do the next best thing.
Chapter 40
‘You sure?’
It felt like a sack of horse nuts had been lifted off Frankie’s shoulders.
‘Yes, I’m sure, Pippa.’
Sat in her and Jack’s spacious lounge, Pippa continued to stare at her in surprise. Her hand remained lodged in a Pringles tube.
‘But why? I–I don’t understand. Isn’t this the sort of opportunity that all jockeys dream of?’
Frankie half-nodded, half-shook her head.
‘I’m sorry to have messed you around,’ she said with genuine regret. ‘You gave me an incredible opportunity. I really am grateful to you, but I realise now that I don’t deserve it.’
Pippa let out a shocked laugh.
‘Frankie, you don’t have to worry about that. Let me decide if you deserve the National ride on Peace Offering or not.’
‘I don’t deserve it though. This is for the best. Honestly, it is. Rhys deserves it more. He works harder than me, he’s a much better rider than I am. He really has earned the right to ride Peace Offering in the Grand National.’
Pippa looked at her with suspicion.
‘Did he ask you to give up the ride?’
‘No! Oh, no. He doesn’t even know I’m here talking to you.’ She allowed herself a small smile. ‘I wanted to surprise him.’
Pippa slumped in her armchair and blew a curly lock of hair off her forehead.
‘Wow. Rhys doesn’t know how lucky he is to have you.’
‘I’m lucky to have him. Look how he saved me yesterday. Will you let him ride?’
‘I guess I’ll have to. I don’t mean that horribly. I offered you the ride because I thought you deserved it, not so I could spite Rhys. Now that you don’t want it, I can hardly go out of my way to put a different jockey up.’
‘Rhys is a good guy,’ Frankie said. ‘And he really is the best rider around.’
Pippa looked mildly discomforted.
‘I don’t want to say anything because I know he’s your boyfriend. But okay, he is growing on me. I can’t really claim to know him all that well.’
‘Not many people do,’ she replied. Hell, wasn’t she still finding out little things about him every day?
‘We’re going to have to tell Jack,’ said Pippa.
Frankie grimaced. She’d especially picked a time when Jack and Rhys were on their way to Market Rasen Racecourse—far far away—to tell Pippa.
‘Do you think he’ll be mad? I feel like a bride who’s cancelling her wedding a week before the ceremony.’
‘He might not be particularly happy to begin with,’ Pippa said, crunching into another crisp. ‘But then again, he wanted Rhys to ride Peace Offering from the get go so it shouldn’t take him too long to get used to the idea.’
‘I’m really sorry to have messed you—and Jack—around like this. But I know it’s the right decision.’
Pippa looked sympathetic.
‘You sure? There’s still time to change your mind.’
Frankie clasped her hands and took a deep breath. After this, there would be no going back.
‘I’m sure.’
‘Your call. Pringle?’ Pippa held out the tube and Frankie hesitated. She could sneak one, surely? She hesitated again.
‘Uh—there aren’t any left,’ she said.
Pippa looked dubiously into the empty tube then shrugged her shoulders happily.
‘Ah, well. We’ve both got excuses then.’
*
With no rides that afternoon, Frankie pulled up outside her parents’ house in time for lunch. Glorious wafts of her favourite roast chicken teased her nostrils when she opened the front door. Doug and Vanessa were in the lounge chatting with the television turned on low.
Vanessa was first to notice her arrival and her face brightened.
‘Happy birthday, darling!’ she said, getting up and holding her arms out to Frankie. ‘Oh, my baby girl is growing up so fast!’
‘Thanks, Mum. Don’t remind me.’ She returned Vanessa celebratory kiss and hug.
‘Don’t remind you? How do you think it makes me feel? I can’t believe it was twenty-four years ago that I popped you out.’
‘Happy birthday, lovie,’ Doug said, climbing to his feet. He too wore a smile on his face and hugging her, he rocked her from side to side. Frankie breathed in the comforting smell of his woollen sweater. It felt so reassuring to be in his good books for a change. Not that it would last long, of course. Not after the news she would inevitably have to break.
‘I made roast chicken especially,’ Vanessa said. ‘With parsnips and butternut.’
Frankie’s mouth watered at the mention of all her favourite foods. It was moments like these that she resented her job. Injuries she could handle, but the tempting smell of succulent roasting meat and vegetables was torturous.
‘Ooh, lovely, Mum. Dad’ll have to dish mine otherwise I’ll load my plate with far too much.’
‘Rubbish. There’re hardly any calories in white meat and parsnips are vegetables.’
Doug shook his head.
‘I’ll dish out for you, Frankie, don’t worry.’
*
Considering they were in one another’s company for the next hour and a half, Frankie thought she and her father were both doing well to steer conversations clear of Rhys (Doug’s doing) and Peace Offering (Frankie’s doing). Vanessa had helped, relaying the latest gossip passed on by Valerie “The Voice” Banks during her hair appointment the previous afternoon.
With lunch put away and her birthday presents revealed—a book voucher and matching necklace and bracelet—Frankie felt she couldn’t postpone it any longer. It was a shame to potentially ruin the mood, but she felt her parents needed to hear it from her rather than via the Racing Post.
She helped her mother clear the table of empty plates while Doug opened a fresh bottle of white wine. Once they were all relaxing in the lounge, allowing their food to digest, Frankie didn’t feel quite so sure of herself.
‘There’s something I’ve got to tell you,’ she began.
The blood drained from Vanessa’s face. Her mother broke eye contact to look at Frankie’s stomach.
‘You’re not—’
‘No! No! Nothing like that.’
She swallowed hard and turned her gaze to Doug. He was sitting very still, unblinking. Guarded. Frankie bit her lip. He was going to be so disappointed, she could feel it already. She looked down at her lap, unable to meet his eyes.
‘I went and spoke to Pippa Taylor earlier. I’m giving up the ride on Peace Offering.’
Silence greeted her. Surprisingly, Doug almost looked relieved. Maybe he was expecting Frankie to announce her and Rhys’s engagement or something.
‘You’re not riding Peace Offering in the Grand National?’ Vanessa said.
Frankie shook her head.
‘No.’
‘Why
not? Who are you going to ride then?’
‘Nobody. I’m not going to ride in the Grand National.’
Doug looked at her curiously.
‘Why’ve you changed your mind?’
Frankie paused before answering. Tact wasn’t high on her list of social skills so she took her time to choose her words.
‘I thought Peace Offering would have a better chance of winning with Rhys aboard.’
‘Rhys is riding him now?’ Doug’s tone changed in an instant.
Oh, crikey, Frankie despaired. Why was she even born with vocal cords?
‘It’s best for everyone. I don’t think I would’ve been up to it, Rhys is a much better rider and—’
‘Is this what he’s told you?’ Doug’s voice rose with his temper. ‘Did he tell you he was better than you?’
‘No, Dad. This was my decision—’
‘Like hell!’ he snapped. ‘I don’t believe that for one minute. Rhys is a Bradford. I knew right from the start that he was up to something. I knew it! I just knew it!’
A ball of tears swelled painfully in Frankie’s throat.
‘No, Dad! You’re wrong! Rhys had nothing to do with me changing my mind. It was my choice!’
‘He’s a scumbag, just like all the other Bradfords!’
Frankie jumped to her feet and glared at her father through glistening eyes. Her hands trembled in rigid fists by her sides.
‘He’s not! You don’t know him. Why do you find it so hard to believe that Rhys is a decent person?’ she cried. ‘Is that how much you think of me? You think that’s the only way I can get a guy as successful as Rhys to be interested in me?’
Doug stood up as well and pointed a finger at her.
‘He’s using you, Frankie!’
‘No, he’s not! He’s not, he’s not, he’s not! He loves me. You’re not there! You don’t see it! You don’t know him!’
‘I know his type,’ Doug spat.
Frankie’s breath shuddered out of her. Even the tips of her ears burned with fury.
‘His type?’ she echoed. ‘His type being the Bradford type? What is it about the Bradfords which gets you so mad?’
Doug’s eyes flashed from her to a stupefied Vanessa sitting on the sofa.
‘That’s beside the point—’
Giving Chase (A Racing Romance) (Aspen Valley Series #2) Page 26
