by Sophie Lee
'Have fun,' Shauna replied, sleepily.
Alice raced down the back steps as fast as she could manage on her heels. She trotted down the driveway and noticed one of the cats lurking in some low bushes by the boundary of the property. She shooed the cat toward the back of the building and made her way round the bend to the front of the apartment. Nick was knocking on the front door which she and Shauna never used.
'Hello?' she called, panting a little. 'Here I am.'
Nick stopped knocking and stared at her silently with his mouth open. 'Ah, there you are,' he said finally.
'I hope this will fit the dress code,' said Alice, plucking at her trouser leg.
Nick wore a black suit and a pale-blue shirt that complimented his dark hair and eyes.
'What, no trainers? I hardly recognise you.'
Nick had shaved his stubble and looked scrubbed and earnest in his formal wear. He grinned and then gestured back to the limo.
'I hope this will be adequate transport for you,' he said. 'Now, I know what you're thinking. The white stretch limo is very 1985; we should probably have arrived in a SUV limo, much more gangsta, but just humour us here. This was all that was available.'
He came over and steered Alice toward the limousine. 'You look really nice.'
'Thanks, Nick. You look good too,' she replied, flushing from the compliment.
'Let's go. We're a bit late and Joe's got to be there to see his horse.'
The suited driver opened the passenger door and they scrambled inside.
The limo had a cream leather interior trimmed with pale lacquered faux timber and a ceiling of deep red. There was something intestinal about the combination of colours. Nick's friend Joe and his girlfriend Stephanie sat opposite them, travelling backward. Joe was talking into his cell phone about a dry track and Alice reached forward to shake Stephanie's hand. She had light brown hair and a wide mouth. The braces on her teeth made her seem young and innocent. She wore a navy wrap dress that was imprinted with scores of tiny burgundy swallows with their wings outstretched in flight. Her hand was surprisingly rough.
'Nice to meet you, Alice,' she said in an English accent. Her hand moved up to her mouth as if she were self-conscious about her braces.
Joe hung up and leaned forward to shake Alice's hand. 'Sorry about that. Owners are getting nervous. I'm Joe. Great you could make it. I told Nick he should've asked you but . . .'
'Yeah, yeah,' Nick interrupted, 'all right, she's here now, isn't she?'
Alice smiled at Nick. 'I must admit, it was a bit confusing when I called the number you gave me and heard a message about horses. I thought maybe I was the victim of some bizarre Irish practical joke. But of course now it all makes sense.'
'I'm a vet,' Joe explained. 'I look after a horse called Lastly Topaz who's racing in the second at Santa Anita today, so I came out from Dublin with the owners. It's big race day out at Santa Anita. This eejut should have said it was my number he'd given you.'
'Too embarrassed to admit I don't have my own mobile phone,' said Nick, not looking embarrassed at all.
The limo was heading down Sunset. 'Do you do this sort of thing a lot?' Alice asked. 'You know, have to travel around to different race days?'
'No. Mainly I'm just stuck outside of Dublin. This horse is looking like he could be a winner, though. We may be going to Melbourne with him in November.'
'For the Melbourne Cup?' asked Alice.
'Derby Day,' he said. 'You're an Aussie?'
'Yes,' said Alice.
'Why are you in LA, Alice?' asked Stephanie.
'I'm an actress,' Alice answered sheepishly. It really was the most boring answer a person could give. Who wasn't an actor in this town?
'Wow,' replied Stephanie, 'Have you been in anything I'd know?'
Alice was aware Nick was looking at her intently. 'Well, I've done a lot of theatre mainly, back home, but I've got a movie coming out here soon, called Cornucopia . . . What do you do Stephanie?' Alice asked, keen to steer the subject away from her CV.
'I'm a landscape architect,' Stephanie replied, covering her mouth with her hand again. 'Nothing so glamorous as you.'
'Believe me,' countered Alice, 'what I do is not glamorous. Unless you call driving around LA all week in a small Japanese car glamorous, of course.'
They were still on Sunset heading all the way downtown. Alice looked out the window with child-like excitement. 'I've never been this far out of West Hollywood before. It feels like the real city. Is this Korea Town? I read about it in my guidebook.'
'Yeah, I think so, and we'll be turning onto a freeway pretty soon. It's a bit of a drive to Santa Anita,' said Nick. 'I think.'
She turned and smiled at him. There was so much she wanted to ask him, but was happy for the moment to sit back in the limo and enjoy the ride.
'Joe, can we be really cheesy and open the champagne?' Nick asked.
'Yeah, go ahead.' Joe reached in the centre panel for the plastic champagne flutes and handed one each to Stephanie, Alice and Nick, then opened the coolbox and pulled out a bottle of Moët. 'I'll have a drink with you later; got work to do before the race,' he said smiling and popped the champagne. A gush of foam spurted and they all cheered. Joe poured three glasses and Stephanie made the toast: 'To Lastly Topaz winning the second.'
'Lastly Topaz,' chimed Alice and Nick. They clinked glasses as the limo turned onto a freeway. Alice settled back in her seat and took a sip of champagne. It tasted like a delicious exotic tea. 'Lovely,' she murmured. 'Thank you for inviting me.'
'Pleasure,' said Nick. 'Now, we need to prepare.' He pulled a wad of paper from under his seat. 'Alice, I don't know how much you know about the races, but this is the form guide for today. I think we better get studying. See, I need to win me some money today. How about you?'
'Yes,' she nodded. 'Ideally, I'd like to bet a very small amount and win an enormous sum. Do you think that's possible?' She thought about her father and her heart squeezed painfully in her chest.
'Anything's possible with Joe's tips,' Nick replied, chewing the end of a red pencil and spreading the form guide in his lap. 'What do you know about Mighty Jenkins, Joe? Any tips on race one?'
'I wouldn't go with Mighty Jenkins in the first. I'd go with Sirsal. Apparently he's fast in these conditions.'
'Right, thanks very much,' Nick answered, circling the details with his pencil. 'He's the favourite though, it says, so we won't win big on that. We need to back an outsider at some point.'
'Insider's tip,' said Joe. He had a large weathered face and his smile was mischievous. 'So don't go telling anyone, all right?'
Nick and Alice leaned forward, and Stephanie rolled her eyes. Joe turned to check the limo driver wasn't eavesdropping.
'Horse called Seconds to Glory in the fifth. Put it this way, I'll be backing it big style,' he murmured quietly, and tapped the side of his nose with his index finger. 'Box trifecta, quadrella, to win, you name it.'
'Twenty-five to one,' observed Nick, flipping the page to race five and reading the relevant information. He whistled. In his eagerness to make a note, he tipped champagne in his lap. 'Oh, bugger.' Alice laughed and reached into her handbag for a handkerchief.
At 12.30, they piled out of the limo, energised by the champagne. Alice gulped at the clean air. Joe murmured something to the driver, and the four of them stood back and admired the entry to the race-track. A massive sky-blue wall in Spanish art deco-style welcomed them. The red dirt beneath them was a sharp contrast to the leafy grandeur of the tall indigenous trees and the sculpted topiary plants. The bright green lawns looked well nourished.
'So,' said Joe, giving Stephanie a quick kiss, 'I'll come find you after the second. I've organised a table for you in the turf club, so you've got a great view of the track and you can have lunch and all. But don't go ordering the hundred year-old bottle of wine just yet.' He turned to Alice. 'Nice to meet you, Alice. Don't let this man get carried away with the betting,' he warned, and handed Nick an env
elope. 'All your tickets are in there, mate. I'll come and find you in a few hours.'
'Thanks, Joe, good luck,' Nick waved, and the three of them headed toward the entry of the race-track.
'Apparently, somewhere there's a bronze statue of Seabiscuit,' Nick remarked, in mock reverence. He took out their tickets from the envelope and as they approached the entry turnstiles read the signs above to figure out which entry point they should use. A short man in a suit stepped forward to offer assistance.
'Can I help you, folks?' His complexion was ruddy and his teeth shiny-white in contrast.
'Ah, yes, these are our tickets,' Nick replied.
The man looked pleased for them. 'Right this way, sir,' he announced with a flourish and opened a side gate for them. 'The turf club is at the top of those stairs down yonder, or there's a lift halfway down on your left, if you prefer. Welcome to Santa Anita races. Have a nice day.'
Alice, Nick and Stephanie made their way slowly down the entrance lobby.
'No hat today?' Alice asked Stephanie.
'God, I wear a hat for work all the time, so I thought I wouldn't be bothered to wear one on a day out.' She grinned cheekily, displaying her braces. 'I read somewhere that they're out, anyway,' she added, admiring Alice's bow.
'Right, ladies. Let's go to our table before we place our first bets,' Nick suggested. They had come as far as the lift. 'I was thinking this would be better than the stairs,' he said, looking down at the girls' high heels. He pushed the up button and the lift opened with a metallic bing. They stepped inside. The wall panels were carpeted deep green and yellow. They smiled at each other in excitement.
'I've never been to a turf club before. I mean, I've been to the races, the Melbourne Cup, but we stood in the carpark for the duration. You put the picnic lunch and champagne in the boot of your car, you know. Sitting and eating lunch with a view of the track is . . .' Alice shook her head in amazement.
'Brilliant, isn't it?' Nick agreed, and the lift doors opened on the top floor. They stepped out and walked across the red carpet towards the track. Tiered tables were set for lunch with crisp white tablecloths and sparkly wine glasses. The maitre d', who looked as though he could have been around when the race-track was in its infancy, led them to their table with a surprisingly nimble gait.
'Here you are, folks,' he gestured, showing them to a table on the second tier which had an incredible view of the track. The sky was azure and cloudless, and the red shades of the dirt on the race-track were a reminder to Alice that they were out of Hollywood and somewhere real. She felt like a gleeful escapee.
'Thank you,' said Nick, taking a seat furthest from the edge. Alice sat down next to him and Stephanie sat opposite.
'How fab!' Stephanie exclaimed, picking up her menu. 'Oh yum, shrimp cocktail.'
'Right, ladies,' said Nick looking at his watch. 'It's not long 'til the first, so excuse me if I go and put a bet on Sirsal. Would you like me to place one for you?'
'Five dollars to win,' Alice answered, opening her handbag and retrieving a five-dollar note from her wallet. Her fingers brushed his as she handed him the money and she felt a tingly frisson. 'I'm on a tight budget here, so hopefully he'll win, 'eh?' she added, avoiding Nick's eyes in case he'd felt it too.
'I'll wait til the second,' said Stephanie, still in raptures over the menu.
Alice looked up and straight into Nick's eyes. 'Thanks,' she said, and looked down at her menu. Her cheeks felt flushed and a tight feeling in her chest made it momentarily difficult to breathe.
'Something to drink, ladies?' asked a much younger waiter who appeared just as Nick had left. He was wearing a bowtie.
'Should we get a soft drink or something? My head's still swimming from the champagne,' Alice suggested. Stephanie nodded in agreement.
'Three Cokes, please.'
'And the wine list,' added Stephanie quickly.
They both laughed and looked out at the track. 'Are you in town long?' Alice asked, toying with her fork. She kept her tone breezy. She didn't want to sound like a nosy parker.
'A few days only,' Stephanie replied. 'We've both got to get back to work.' She sighed. 'Let's not think about that right now.'
'Yes, good idea. Let's put an embargo on the topic of work or the lack thereof,' she concluded, as their drinks arrived in wide-lipped glasses brimming with ice. 'Wow, that was quick. Cheers.' Alice took a big gulp and leaned back in her chair to admire the view.
They sat in companionable silence. The women at the table next to them wore a dizzying array of hats and were shrieking with excitement. Alice and Stephanie gazed out at the San Gabriel Mountains in wordless appreciation.
'Right. That's done in plenty of time for the first race,' said Nick, re-appearing and settling comfortably in his seat. He handed Alice her ticket, and spread his three proprietorially on the table in front of him.
'Don't think he's a mad gambler,' Stephanie observed.
'I only bet what I know I can afford to lose,' Nick countered, affecting a pious tone and moving his tickets to one side. 'Right, what's for lunch? I'm starving.'
Horses thundered round the track and the red dust flew. Nick clutched his tickets and urged Sirsal on. Alice got caught up in the moment and jumped to her feet. Sirsal was a close runner in second place but then he seemed to lose ground. At the last crucial moment, he surged forward to win. Nick and Alice cheered wildly, even though their winnings would amount to little more than thirty bucks.
'There's my betting fund taken care of for the rest of the day,' Alice beamed at Nick. They sat down again and she picked up her bread-roll. 'Gosh, what a great feeling to back a winner!' she exclaimed as she buttered it. 'I'm not used to winning at the moment, let me tell you,' she sighed, and took a hungry bite. The roll was fluffy and still warm from the oven.
'You? Not winning? Unlikely,' Nick responded, handing over her winning ticket as if to prove his point.
'Believe me, I'm pretty unlucky at the moment. In fact, I was nearly arrested last Saturday for doing the dumbest thing because I was . . . never mind,' she concluded, suddenly embarrassed at how that had sounded. She smiled at them both. 'To turning luck around,' she offered, clinking her Coke glass against Nick's.
'Sure, I don't doubt it for a second,' Nick replied. 'Didn't realise you were a near fugitive though. Very interesting.' He raised his eyebrows and grinned. 'Let's place another bet.'
'Nearly arrested, eh?' he asked, as they climbed the stairs.
'Oh, dear. Why did I admit to that?' groaned Alice. 'I promise you I'm not a bad person. I just made a really dumb decision recently, and it's only since I got to this town that I realised just how dumb it was.'
'What does that have to do with the criminal element to your personality?'
'Oh, it's really not that interesting,' Alice answered, shyly.
'Well, it sounds like it's done and dusted, isn't it now, so what are you going to do about it? Hard to know now, but I'm sure you'll realise soon enough.'
'What, nearly ending up in a downtown cell?'
'No, the bad decision, you eejut,' he replied.
'Yes, well, unfortunately I don't believe in fate. I'm more of a the-universe-is-a-ball-of-random-events-type of girl. Sadly though, it's not a belief-set that keeps you warm at night.' She considered the declaration for a moment. 'I do try to be nice to others on the way to auditions though, so maybe I am a bit more . . . spiritual, after all.'
'What nice things do you do, Alice?' he asked, stopping to smile at her.
'Oh, you know, pick up other people's litter and fill their parking meters. Stuff like that.'
Nick laughed. 'And after your audition?'
Alice considered the question. 'If I get on a shortlist, I'll keep up the good behaviour until the casting decision is made, at which point I revert to being an arsehole whether I get the job or not. It can get exhausting being nice all the time.'
They had arrived at the betting window and Alice reached in her handbag for her winning ticket.
'So, let's just bet on our boy Joe's horse for the second. If we gather up this litter around the place, maybe Lastly Topaz will win the race.'
'Good idea,' nodded Alice, stooping to pick up a losing ticket someone had discarded. 'I'm not sure if the lucky acting god is the same as the horse god, but we'll try,' she added.
Nick leaned forward to speak to the betting agent and made his series of transactions. He stepped away from the betting window and handed Alice her winnings which were thirty-one dollars less the ten she bet on Lastly Topaz to win. She rifled through her handbag, wishing an extra thousand dollars would appear so that she could bet the lot.
'Alice? Is something wrong?'
'Huh?'
'Just . . . you looked so sad for a moment,' he observed.
'Did I? My Dad's ill,' she admitted. 'I need to land a bloody job, I need to . . .'
'I'm so sorry. What's wrong with him?'
'Prostate cancer. He needs to have his prostate removed.' Uttering the word 'cancer' had a chilling effect. Alice felt the shock of it resonate in her system. All of a sudden, she felt very tired, and guilty for being out at a race-track with a handsome stranger, betting money when she should be saving every penny she possibly could.
'Why don't you fly back and see him?'
'Because I owe them money. A long story, but a theatre production I was involved in went tits-up and my parents, who very unwisely invested heavily in it, are now bearing the brunt. So my priority is to figure out the quickest way to get it back to them so my dad can have the best surgeon money can buy. I've gotta knuckle down and do a whole lot of scarily bad audition pieces in the meantime.'
They made their way back to their table. 'It doesn't seem you like what you do. Am I right?' Nick asked.
'Why would you say that? All actors are whingers, you know,' she laughed. 'It's my job,' she concluded firmly. But it did occur to her that there was truth in his observation. Lately, even when she'd been awarded a job, it hadn't turned out to be the magical experience she'd expected.
Alice batted the feeling away. Acting was the dream she'd had since she was a girl of twelve and it made her feel that several rungs were being pulled from under her feet if this very central part of her personality was to be removed. Who would she be without that dream? She felt as though she'd lifted a very large rock and peered underneath it. Creepy-crawlies scattered fearfully in the glare.
