‘Bullshit, Dad!’ Frankie shouted. Her parents looked at her in horror. Had she ever sworn at her father before? She very much doubted it, but right now she didn’t care. ‘It is exactly the point. What is the big secret? Why won’t you tell me what you’ve got against the Bradfords? I know you’ve got history. I met Ron McCready the other day.’
‘Ron McCready?’ Doug was jerked out of his rage into surprise.
‘Yeah. Remember him? Because he certainly remembers you. He also remembers Alan Bradford and how you were best man at his wedding.’
‘We are not going to talk about this, Francesca!’
‘Yes, we are! Because unless we get this sorted out, I am never going to understand why you are so against Rhys. Rhys has done absolutely nothing to you.’
‘Yes, he has,’ Doug said, shaking his head. ‘He’s conned my daughter out of her Grand National ride. Why am I not surprised?’ He gave a mirthless laugh. ‘Those Bradfords are all the same. I should’ve known right off when you said you two were involved that he was up to something.’
‘Then tell me why you should’ve known!’
‘Doug, darling,’ Vanessa spoke up for the first time. ‘Let’s just tell Frankie. This is hardly fair on her.’
‘No, no, no!’ Doug boomed. ‘I refuse to talk about that–that… rat, Alan Bradford. Ever!’
Frankie crossed her arms over her chest.
‘I’m not going anywhere until you do.’
‘Well, you’re in for a long wait, sweetheart. Why can’t you just take my word for it that Alan Bradford is a scumbag and be done with it?’
‘It’s not your opinion of Alan Bradford that gets to me, Dad. It’s the way you treat Rhys.’
Doug clutched his head and growled in frustration.
‘I don’t want to talk about either of them!’
Vanessa stood up and placed her hand on his shoulder.
‘Then let me tell Frankie.’
Doug shrugged her off like her hand was a tarantula and stomped past them both out of the lounge.
‘Where are you going?’ Vanessa called after him.
‘Out,’ he yelled back. ‘You tell Frankie whatever the hell you want. I’m not going to sit there and relive it all.’ The front door slammed in finality, making the windows tremble.
Frankie felt tears rise in her with a gusto she hadn’t felt since she was about ten. She turned to her mother and stamped her foot.
‘Why is he being like this?’ she cried. ‘Why does he hate Rhys so much? He wants me to take his word for it that Rhys’s dad is a scumbag. Then why can’t he take my word for it that Rhys isn’t like that!’
Vanessa heaved a sigh and sent Frankie a sympathetic look.
‘I’m sorry, darling. You’re right, he is overreacting a bit, but try not to be too hard on him. He’s had a tough day—he’s been putting on a brave face for you all afternoon.’
‘He’s having a bad day?’
‘Yes. That racehorse that he’s so fond of—Caspian, is it? The one that won that French race. It was on the news this morning that he injured himself in training. Had to be retired.’
On any other day, Frankie would have received this news with a healthy dose of remorse, but now her blood was up and Caspian was the least of her concerns.
‘And that’s his excuse for insulting Rhys? For walking out after telling me that my boyfriend is using me?’
Vanessa shook her head.
‘No, you’re right.’ She looked around her. ‘Where did he put that wine? I have the feeling we’re going to need it.’ She spotted it on a side table and took an enthusiastic slug straight from the bottle.
Chapter 41
Frankie sat opposite her mother on the sofa, balling a damp wad of kitchen roll in her hands. She waited impatiently for Vanessa to take another swig.
‘So,’ Vanessa said, putting the bottle down and taking a deep breath, ‘how much do you already know?’
‘Hardly anything. Only what you’ve told me and what I’ve already said about Ron McCready.’
‘Okay, let’s start from the beginning then. Doug was a jockey the same time as Alan. Things were different thirty years ago. They shared a house with a bunch of other boys while they were doing their apprenticeships.’ Vanessa looked unseeingly at the muted television. ‘Your dad went pro around the same time he and I got a house together in Gloucester. Alan was engaged to Maria, but she was still studying for her degree in Madrid or Barcelona, I can’t remember which. So Alan moved in with us. That was all fine. We were all great mates. Maria was okay, but she wasn’t around a lot and Alan wasn’t very good at making her feel at ease.’
‘Did you like Maria?’
‘There was nothing wrong with her,’ Vanessa said, frowning as she thought back. ‘Quiet type, very pretty. But different culture, different upbringing.’
‘If Alan was such a bastard, why was she marrying him?’
‘Oh, Alan wasn’t always a bastard, darling. He and your dad were best friends at one time, remember. And he wasn’t bad looking either. He was fun, he was confident, the life of a party.’ She smiled, obviously reliving happier times. ‘Maria was from a very wealthy Catholic family, quite a conservative family I would say if she was anything to go by. Maybe it was the rebel in Alan that attracted her? Anyway, they were married. It was a beautiful wedding. Maria’s family shipped us all out to Spain for it, must have cost them a small fortune.’ She shook her head and gave a small laugh at whatever memory had surfaced. ‘But then it was back to work after that. Doug and Alan both rode for Ron McCready even though it wasn’t a big yard. That’s when things started to go downhill a bit. Your dad was having a great season with that horse, Crowbar. I don’t think he was in the same league as—I don’t know, Red Rum or Desert Orchid, but for such a small stable, he was a superstar. Things were looking good for us, but Alan was having a bit of a tough time. He thought that once he and Maria were married then they’d be able to buy their own house and make a good dent in her inheritance. But apparently that wasn’t happening just yet. So they were still living with us—well, Alan was still living with us. Maria still had to finish her Masters or whatever it was she was studying. I don’t know why she couldn’t have just transferred to Bristol or somewhere. Maybe that sort of thing wasn’t done. I don’t know. I never did a proper degree for hairdressing. Funny how these days you need a degree just to pack shelves—’
‘Mum,’ Frankie interrupted. She gave her a pained look.
‘Oh, sorry. I digress. So Alan wasn’t happy, and between you and me I don’t think it was just because his wife was never there. I think he was a little jealous of your dad, who was busy winning all the big races on Crowbar. Then this girl from New Zealand walked into town. Heidi, her name was. She was doing this round-the-world trip and wasn’t planning on staying for long. She was great fun and so brave travelling by herself. But then Heidi and Alan met and she decided to stick around. She got a job behind the bar at the local pub, and one thing led to another and before long they were having an affair.’
‘What a bastard,’ Frankie gasped.
‘You’re not to tell Rhys this, okay?’ Vanessa warned.
Frankie crossed her heart and her mother nodded approvingly.
‘Good. So this went on for a few weeks, I can’t remember how long exactly. I was doing a stylist course in Bristol so I don’t know how often she was at the house, but eventually, with the spotlight on Dad so much, what with Crowbar and the Grand National coming up, Heidi was snapped sneaking out of the house at some ungodly hour. Well, when the papers got hold of this, they had a field day, but of course they couldn’t say who Heidi was there visiting. Alan was shitting himself—’scuse my language, because if Maria and her family found out, then he was guaranteed not to get any of their money. So he asked Doug and me if Doug would take the rap for it.’
‘And Dad agreed?’ Frankie said, with mounting surprise.
‘Well, he took a bit of persuading, but they were best mates. They
looked out for each other back then. I knew what was going on, so there was never any risk of your father and I splitting up. But the one condition made was that Alan and Heidi stop seeing each other.’ Vanessa stopped for another couple of gulps of wine then arched her back in a stretch.
Frankie took the brief respite to try get a handle on what her mother was telling her. So Alan had had an affair with a bargirl and her father had taken the blame to protect his friend. Okay, so it wasn’t a very saintly scenario, but was it enough for Doug to bear a grudge for the next thirty years?
‘Is that why Dad doesn’t like Alan then?’
‘It might have been the start of it, but worse was to come,’ explained Vanessa. ‘Heidi and Alan agreed to stop seeing each other. Heidi moved on with her travels, but as soon as word got out that Doug was the one having the affair, Crowbar’s owners took exception to his “philandering” I think is what they called it. Even though your father had won all of those races for them, they said they didn’t want to associate with a cheat like him.’
Frankie’s eyes widened as it dawned on her.
‘So, that’s why Alan rode Crowbar in the National!’
Vanessa nodded.
‘He was the stable’s other jockey so it made sense. It was just ironic that the successor just so happened to be the real cheat.’
‘But he didn’t have to accept it, surely? Why didn’t Dad speak up and say something? The ride was his.’
‘Well, that’s when things began to go sour. Alan could have turned the ride down. Perhaps should have turned it down. But he didn’t. Maybe it was pride? Maybe he wanted a piece of the pie which your father had been scoffing all season? Who knows? Whatever his reasons he took it and he won.’
‘But why didn’t Dad say anything?’
‘Because by that stage, Maria was pregnant. With Rhys, as it happens. It would’ve been selfish. He could’ve broken up their marriage. And while she was pregnant? All for a race, which he was bound to ride in again? No, Doug couldn’t do that. Besides, who would believe him?’
Frankie sat back on the sofa and looked at her in wonder.
‘So that’s why Dad hates him so much,’ she mused.
Vanessa wagged her forefinger and gave Frankie a sad smile.
‘It doesn’t end there. As soon as Alan took the National ride on Crowbar, Doug threw him out. But luckily for Alan, now that Maria was going to have a son, her family did what he’d wanted right from the start. They gave them a shed-load of dosh and bought them a house, and as far as we were concerned, they were out of our lives. Then who comes back, but Heidi. Came to our house to see Alan. She’d been in Brighton or somewhere and hadn’t heard about the big fall out over the National. She was in a right state, said that she was pregnant with Alan’s child; she didn’t have anywhere to go, no money or anything. Alan wouldn’t believe her at first, and to be honest, neither did we. Heidi’d gone down on everything bar the Titanic by the time she got to Gloucester. Nevertheless, she threatened to tell all if Alan didn’t help her out. So that’s what Alan did. He paid for her to have an abortion and gave her a good bundle of his wife’s money to keep her quiet. It must have worked because we never saw or heard from her again, but that was the final straw for Doug. There must have been something in the water around that time because I then got pregnant with Seth. And well, you can just imagine your dad. He couldn’t wait to be a father and the idea of getting rid of a baby just repulsed him. He and Alan never said a word to each other ever again.’
Frankie was aware that her mouth was hanging open, but she was incapable of closing it.
‘My God,’ she breathed. ‘Alan Bradford really is a scumbag. Dad was right.’ A thought then struck her. ‘But Alan and Maria must have got divorced eventually. She’s living in Spain with Rhys’s stepfather.’
‘Well, yes. One would’ve hoped that a scare like that might have stopped him from having more affairs. You’d even think that becoming a father might’ve stopped him, but he had other affairs, I believe.’
‘Wow. And you’ve kept this secret all those years?’
‘What was the point in telling anyone? The damage was already done.’
‘But what about Dad’s reputation?’
Vanessa shrugged.
‘It didn’t suffer all that bad. All of the jockeys in those days were a bit promiscuous; it was almost expected of them. It just so happened that when Doug took the blame, it was at the wrong time with the wrong owners. It wasn’t like he was shunned by the racing community. He got other good rides in other good races. But he never won the Grand National, and the year that he should’ve won it, Rhys’s father stole the ride from him.’
Frankie sunk into the cushiony depths of the sofa as she saw everything from her father’s perspective.
‘Poor Dad. God, no wonder he was upset I’d given the ride on Peace Offering to Rhys. It must have been like déjà vu for him.’
Vanessa nodded sadly.
‘So, now do you understand that he wasn’t really directing his anger at you? He was shouting at Alan. When something like this has been simmering for thirty years, it can become very ugly, uglier than it possibly was at the start.’
Frankie sighed.
‘I know, but it still doesn’t mean that Rhys is like that too. Rhys doesn’t even like his father. He and Dad would probably get on really well considering they’ve already got that in common.’
‘You would think so, wouldn’t you?’ Vanessa tipped the last of the bottle down her throat before continuing. ‘But also remember, you’re Daddy’s little girl. He’s just looking out for you.’
Frankie gave a frustrated laugh.
‘And I appreciate that, but how am I going to convince him that Rhys isn’t this evil cheat?’
Vanessa shrugged.
‘I don’t know, honey. Maybe he just needs time. If Rhys can prove over time that he’s as you claim, then Dad won’t have a choice.’
Chapter 42
It was past ten by the time Rhys returned from the races and stopped by Frankie’s house. She opened the door to let him and the cold night breeze in. Rhys greeted her with a kiss and a raised eyebrow.
‘I got your text. What was so important that it couldn’t wait until morning?’
‘Come in. I’ll tell you inside,’ Frankie said, her heart hammering with anticipation.
She led the way into the kitchen where she and Atticus Finch had been sat attempting a crossword puzzle. She hadn’t got further than the sixth clue. Not only was she hopeless at word games, but the words ‘Rhys’ and ‘Grand National’ didn’t fit into any of the boxes.
Rhys sat down, glanced at the puzzle and immediately filled in two more clues. Atticus, stretched out on the table, smiled at him in approval. Frankie clasped her hands and gave him a nervous grin.
‘I’ve some news for you.’
Like Vanessa had done before, Rhys’s gaze immediately dropped to her stomach. She really needed to rethink her opening lines.
‘No, don’t worry. You’re not going to be a father,’ she laughed.
Rhys looked relieved.
‘I spoke to Pippa earlier,’ she continued. ‘And you are now Peace Offering’s new jockey in the National!’ She cinched her tongue between her teeth, so eager to see his reaction.
Rhys’s face fell, the blood draining from his cheeks.
‘What?’
‘I told Pippa I wanted you to ride him instead of me!’
Rhys continued to stare at her. He even looked a little horrified. She smiled even wider at him, trying to ignite some celebration in him. She’d hoped he’d yell the house down then spin her round in happiness. But he wasn’t doing any of that. He was just staring at her with his mouth open. ‘Aren’t you pleased? You’re going to ride Peace Offering! In the Grand National,’ she added, just to clarify.
Rhys closed his eyes and put his face in his hands.
‘Frankie, no,’ he groaned.
Her smile faltered. Okay, she could take a less th
an exuberant response. This was Rhys, after all. But getting a negative response hadn’t even occurred to her.
‘Don’t you want to ride him? I–I thought that was what you wanted?’
Rhys looked up.
‘It is, but—’ He shook his head. ‘But not like this, not at your expense. I can’t do this to you. Riding in the National was what you wanted as well.’
Frankie bit her lip. She’d been so looking forward to telling him, all the while thinking it would make up for her earlier meeting with her parents. She couldn’t help a trace of annoyance seep into her voice.
‘It was, but I know you want it more. Rhys, I’m giving you the ride on Peace Offering.’
‘Oh, God,’ he groaned. ‘I don’t know what to say. I mean, yes, you’re right, I do want to ride Peace Offering, but Frankie—’ He paused, his eyes pleading with her. ‘This was your opportunity. Don’t make me the one who takes it away from you.’
‘You’re not listening to me, not really. I don’t want to ride Peace Offering in the National,’ she said slowly so it would sink in. ‘It’s all done. I’ve spoken to Pippa. You’re now his new jockey. You’re going to Aintree. You’re going to ride in the Grand National.’
Rhys looked around the kitchen, shell-shocked then a small laugh escaped from him. He looked at Frankie again with a dazed expression.
‘Really?’
Frankie bit her lips together to stop herself from beaming again and nodded. Slowly, Rhys’s capsized mouth righted into a wide smile. In an instant, he was out of his chair and had scooped Frankie into his arms. He kissed her hard on the lips then pulled back. Cupping her shoulders, he looked solemnly into her eyes.
‘Thank you, Frankie. Thank you, thank you.’ He gave her shoulders a gentle squeeze with each thank you. ‘You’ve no idea what this means to me.’
At last, getting the response that she wanted, Frankie grinned. He might not be climbing the walls with joy, but in his own way, Rhys looked thrilled.
‘I’m happy if you’re happy,’ she said, simply.
‘Oh, I’m happy. You’ve no idea. I’ll win it. I’ll ride like I’ve never ridden before. I’ll win it for you.’
Giving Chase (A Racing Romance) (Aspen Valley Series #2) Page 27
