by Daisy White
“It’ll be strange not having you here. I’ll miss you terribly, but I’m so happy for you and Ted,” I tell her, as she carefully slips out of her dress and threads it back on the hanger.
“I know. I’m just so glad we came to Brighton, and I’m also glad that Johnnie’s friend was able to help sort out my divorce. I feel like I’ve begun again, and all my mistakes are in the past.”
“It wasn’t a mistake to marry for love. You just didn’t know how it would turn out, but you’re right, it’s all in the past.”
* * *
The next day at work, my mind wanders to the big race on Saturday. Love Me Do missed his last race before Epsom because Moses apparently wanted to rest him. Word is he just wanted to keep him safe. Regular jockey Alex Davies is back in the saddle. Three days to go, and I wonder if the rumour about Moses demanding that the police stay at his yard to protect his runners is true. I wouldn’t blame him or Tommy. There was definitely a nasty atmosphere between the rival yards at the Black Jug the other night.
The telephone rings nonstop and the headlines in the papers are all devoted to the upcoming Derby Trial and the disappearance of Basil’s Pride. The owners are offering a huge reward for information leading to the horse’s safe recovery, and the reporters, including Ken and James are all over the fact that since Rita’s tragic death, the yards seem to have been at war.
I study Kenny’s latest article. It’s a new slant that he and James have worked through the night on, and it mentions Pridey’s owners:
Missing Racehorse Reward!
Basil’s Pride, who disappeared over three weeks ago, from trainer Tommy O’Mara’s Brighton base, will be much missed at the Derby. But owners, Purple Corner Chemicals, are offering an £800 reward for information leading to the successful return of their animal. Chief Executive Roland Harvett says, “We understand that the theft of our horse, Basil’s Pride, could be part of a wider campaign attacking our trainer. As a company and as individuals, we have never bowed to thuggish behaviour or threats, and we are concerned simply for the welfare of our horse.”
Purple Corner Chemicals was the subject of a break-in and tense stand-off with police last year, as protesters scaled the fence around their factory, and chained themselves to machinery inside. Protesters claimed that the company was using its resources and funds to help nuclear development at Aldermaston, a claim which was later proven to be false.
Anyone with information on the missing racehorse is urged to telephone Brighton 38813 as a matter of urgency.
The doping scandal has hit the nationals, and Tommy’s yard is thronged with reporters and policemen. It’s hard to see how this will end. With no arrests and numerous people pulled in for questioning, the lads are starting to suspect each other. I expect DC Little is tearing his hair out over this case.
After work, I arrange to meet Kenny outside the newspaper offices. He doesn’t think Benjy will talk to me about Rita, but I’m going to give it a shot. Mrs Clare hasn’t called about her grandson either, but I plan to ask Mrs Carpenter for help with that one. She knows everyone in Brighton. Finally I have a few sparks of hope, and I am going to follow them up with everything I have.
Just now, though, I lean against the wall, enjoying the warmth of the sun on my head. I’m early as planned, and when two girls walk past carrying sheaves of paperwork, I ask them where I can find Benjy.
“He’s on a break now, but he’ll be back in a minute. Aren’t you Kenny’s girl?”
“I just wanted a word with him.”
“If you wait right here, you’ll catch him. Do you want me to tell Kenny you’re here?”
“No thanks. He knows I’m coming, but I’m a bit early.” I lean back against the wall, half closing my eyes in the sun.
“Are you looking for someone?” It’s a tall red-headed boy with hazel eyes and thick ginger eyebrows. He flicks away a cigarette, grinding it painstakingly into the dusty pavement.
“I’m waiting for Kenny.”
“Oh, you must be Ruby. I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m Benjy.” He extends a friendly hand.
“You don’t look at all like I thought you would,” I tell him, taking his cool, pale fingers.
“So you’ve heard of me then?”
“I’ve read some of your stories,” I tell him warily.
“I won’t ask if you enjoyed them, because I can tell by that disapproving tone of voice that you didn’t.” He doesn’t appear to be bothered, just stands there grinning at me in the sunlight. “I didn’t realise Brighton had such a load of old women. Ken doesn’t like them either.”
“I think it’s because you seem to have dragged Rita’s name through the mud, making out that she was just some tart when you didn’t even know what sort of person she was. You just assumed that because she had lots of boyfriends, there was nothing else going on.” I wait to see if he takes the bait.
His eyes flash with annoyance, and then he laughs. “Nice. Ken said you were a clever girl. Of course you know that I knew Rita, don’t you? Shall we have a little talk inside? Just while you wait for your man.” The charm is unexpected. He almost rivals James with his smooth manners and good looks.
“Alright.” I’ve never been inside the newsroom before, but I soon spot Kenny, hammering away at his typewriter. He looks up in surprise, and I wave vaguely, and point at Benjy. I hope this indicates both that he can take his time and that I’m busy. I don’t dare stop to reassure him, in case Benjy disappears.
“Kenny’s a good reporter, but too soft. You need to get the words down and not care what people think. I’m telling you, everyone wants to read the smutty stuff.”
“I don’t think that they do, actually. How did you know Rita?”
“Don’t worry, I’ve already been to the police to tell them this, but I met her last year on the Aldermaston march. I was doing a piece for the local paper, and I interviewed her. She was fun, and pretty wild, and we went out a couple of times. No hard feelings. One of her brothers found out that she was hanging around with a group protesting about CND, and she said he turned up at a meeting and started threatening everyone. Poor Rita was furious, but her family are very old-fashioned. I think they hoped she’d get herself a nice husband and settle down.”
“Why are you so vile about her in the paper then?”
He shrugs. “It isn’t personal.” But his face is shuttered and the laughter and game-playing has stopped.
“Did Rita have anything to do with a protest at Purple Corner Chemicals?”
He shakes his head. “No, she didn’t. You mean the protest that went wrong last year, don’t you?”
“Yes. You must have seen. Ken did a piece on it for today’s paper.”
“I saw. There was more to it than that little snippet though, much more.” The gleam is back, and he smiles at me. “But as I said, you’re a clever girl, so I’ll leave you to do your own research.”
Smug bastard. “Sorry. I suppose you must have been very upset when you heard Rita had died. It must be awful to have everyone asking questions about her, and having to write about her, when you actually knew her.”
He nods. “Something like that. She’s dead though, so it can’t hurt her. Look, your man seems to be waiting for you. Nice to meet you, and if you ever get tired of Kenny, give me a call and we’ll have a drink.”
“Thanks for the offer,” I say tartly and he laughs. Whatever was going on between him and Rita, or the family, he isn’t going to tell me. I might have known it was too good to be true, bumping into him on the steps, and then him agreeing to talk. He’s simply told me exactly what he wants me to believe. He did get very edgy when I asked about Pridey’s owners though.
“So, did you get any secrets out of Mr Harley then?” Kenny grins at me as we head out into the sun.
“None. He did ask me out for a drink, so I suppose it wasn’t a wasted conversation.” I slip my arm through his, and we turn right, walking slowly through the twisted maze of cobbled lanes towards the Promenade.
“Typical! Trying to steal my girl when I’m in the same room. I’ve heard he’s an appalling kisser. All slobber and whiskers, just like a dog.”
“Kenny!” I can’t help giggling, “you’re such an idiot.”
“But I’m good at kissing, aren’t I?”
“Maybe.”
* * *
An unknown black colt, Baby Prince, wins the last big race before the Derby, beating the course record, throwing the racing world into a frenzy of excitement, and, in the case of Tommy’s yard, frustration. Suddenly the odds on Love Me Do are changing and the nationals are all predicting a different outcome. Despite the reward offered by his owners, Basil’s Pride still seems to have disappeared into thin air, and whilst the occasional lad is hauled in for questioning, DC Little seems no closer to solving the case.
I’ve been sitting on my piece of information from Barney, turning it over and over in my mind. That night, after a few beers, it seemed obvious. Joey and Alex were behind everything, including stealing Pridey. They could even have bribed someone to murder Rita if she knew about their plans, but something went wrong . . . I remember the last minute switch of jockey for the Derby Trial. Is that relevant? I really want to take this to the police, but I can just imagine DC Little rolling his eyes and asking if I have any hard evidence beyond the say-so of a stable lad, who won’t talk to the police.
Bev calls me at the salon, and she gets quite cross when I admit I’m still investigating Rita’s death for Sammy.
“She killed herself. I told you, Ruby, the only person to blame is that evil dad of hers. If he hadn’t beaten her and then caused all that trouble with her boyfriends, she’d still be here today.” Her voice breaks. “Stop looking for things that aren’t there. I’ve told Sammy to stop too. The poor kid’s had his heart broken already and trying to find a murderer is just his way of putting off accepting that she is gone.”
“Thanks, Bev, I’ll bear it in mind.”
“Just leave it alone, before you do any real damage. Don’t interfere in things that don’t concern you, just because you’re bored with hairdressing.” She puts the phone down with a bang, and I wince. I stand awkwardly behind the reception desk, Bev’s harsh words ringing in my ears. Am I really just being a nosy cow? It’s not a pleasant thought.
“Are you alright?” Mary asks.
I tell her what Bev has said, and she frowns. “Hang on a minute, it wasn’t you who decided to investigate, it was Sammy!”
“I know, and I know she’s grieving for her friend, but Sammy needs to come up with something else from his end. Honestly, Mary, do you think Rita killed herself?”
Mary wipes her hands slowly on a pink towel, clearly considering this carefully. “No. And I’m not saying that just because you’re investigating. I told you before, I think that everything that’s happened relates to Rita, but we don’t know how. The thing with somebody telling all her lovers about each other is just vile, but from what people have said, she was a strong girl. Even with a baby on the way, there is definitely a chance that this was murder. It would be hateful to think of the murderer getting away with it just because they were too clever for all of us.”
I hug her until she squeals, and Eve laughs at us. Whatever happens, I’m lucky to still have my best friend. She’s alive, happy, and wherever she’s living, I’ll always love her.
It’s the week before the Derby, and just ten days before Mary and Ted get married. After doing my usual clients, I make a tray of tea, thinking hard. I feel like I need to do something to show Mary how much she means to me, and to celebrate her forthcoming wedding.
With ten minutes before my next client, I go hunting for Johnnie, finally locating him in the little stone courtyard behind the salon.
“Hallo, Rubes. Have you come to help with the delivery?”
“I can’t, I’ve got Miss Prendle at four, but I’ll do some boxes afterwards if you like. I’ve got an idea for tonight. We’re all planning on going out anyway, so why don’t we take Mary and Ted somewhere special, just to celebrate before the wedding?”
Johnnie pauses, wiping sweat off his forehead, and leans against the sunny wall. “Lovely idea, darling! Where were you thinking of? The Smuggler’s Kiss? Baby D’s? The Starlight Rooms?”
I frown, leaning on my broom handle, checking off places in my head. I want somewhere really romantic . . . An image of the Black Jug, nestling in the wildflowers and downland, pops into my mind. There are plenty of tables outside in the garden, the view is beautiful, and all the lads tend to stay inside for some reason. I suppose they get enough fresh air at work.
Johnnie is clearly surprised by my choice, but agrees to get a couple of bottles of champagne. “And we can take two carloads. I’ll get hold of the gang and make sure everyone knows . . . About eight, I think? You can persuade Mary to come along and I’ll find Ted on my lunch break. Perfect! I do love a surprise party, and the weather is beautiful today.”
Mary, as usual, sees straight through my feeble suggestion that we go out for a quiet drink, just the two of us, to toast her upcoming nuptials. “Is Johnnie planning a party?” She giggles. “He is, isn’t he? I spoke to Ted earlier and he said he couldn’t see me tonight, and then muttered about drinks with the boys. He’s even more obvious than you!”
“Maybe. He’s picking us up at half seven for eight, so get moving! Mrs Carpenter is looking after Summer. She’s taking her across to Ivy’s house, and she said they’ll keep her for the night, rather than wake her up when we get in.”
“Her sister? That was kind of her, but last time she babysat, she was trying to teach Summer maths and Latin.”
“So? She’ll have a head start at school. Stop fussing and find something fab to wear.”
Miss Carpenter has also promised to find out where Mrs Clare’s grandson, Paul, lives.
Johnnie is waiting when we finally thunder downstairs, locking our front door carefully behind us, and spill out onto the hot pavement.
His car is already packed to bursting with Victoria, James and Kenny, but we squeeze in somehow, me sitting on Ken’s lap.
“No funny business, you two, this is not a peep show!” Johnnie warns, grinning at us.
* * *
The car journey across the Downs is cramped and hot, but when we pile out, Johnnie leads us straight out to the pub garden, and Mary gasps.
A long table has been positioned right at the edge of the garden, where the turf drops away into a wooded ravine. There are glasses of wildflowers, and candles set along the length of the table, and two bottles of champagne in a silver bucket. A hand-written banner stretches along the fence, reading ‘Congratulations Mary & Ted.’
Ted arrives with Pearl and Donovan, looking a bit bewildered. He kisses Mary on the cheek. “What’s all this then?”
“Ruby suggested we have a little pre-wedding celebration, and I agreed that this was the perfect venue. The landlord has kindly laid on some food, and we can have a toast with the bubbly,” Johnnie tells him, beaming.
“Summer is with Mrs Carpenter for the night, so no problem. Shall we sit right at the end? It’ll be like eating on the top of the world!” Mary is laughing, hand in hand with her fiancé, and I suddenly get crazy tears welling up. I swallow hastily and hold out my glass to Johnnie for an instant refill.
“You look gorgeous tonight, Rubes. What else shall we toast to, then?” Kenny slides an arm around my waist.
“Having fun,” I tell him firmly, but I lean in for a quick kiss.
As we are eating cake, a few of the lads start to spill out onto the grass. Realising it’s a private party, but recognising us, they offer their own congratulations. Before we know it, the evening is darkening to night, and we have our own live band, with two guitars and a couple of boys belting out the latest Beatles hits.
“This is heaven.” Victoria sits beside me. We have abandoned the table in favour of rugs and coats on the grass. Her long hair brushes my hand, and she clinks her glass against mine. “Perfect ide
a.”
Mary is standing with Ted, her head on his shoulder, their arms wrapped around each other. “I’m so happy she’s found Ted,” I say.
“Looks like you might be going the same way with Kenny,” Vic teases.
I shake my head. Ken, James and Johnnie are leaning against the fence, smoking, glasses in their hands, watching the musicians. “I really like Kenny, but I can’t see myself getting married. Maybe not ever.”
“Me neither. It’s more fun to just be free, and to have the odd serious relationship. Of course, you can’t predict the future, but I’d like to do some travelling next year.”
“Really? What about nursing?” I’m surprised because Vic has always been so set on her career.
“I’ll always have that to fall back on, but I’d like to do some more photography, maybe go to America. These are exciting times, and I want to make sure I live my life to the full. Don’t you feel like that too?”
“Sometimes. I love hairdressing, but I do catch myself wondering what else I might do.” I don’t mention my most recent thoughts about the police force.
The sound of arguing splinters the peace, and the music stops abruptly. A couple of lads are wrestling in the corner, and there are screams from the girls as a table goes over. More people join in, and others try to separate them.
I get closer, and Kenny is at my side. “What’s going on? Is that Alex Davies?”
“I didn’t see it start, but apparently Joey and Alex were having a row and one of them threw a punch. It’s been coming for a while, so maybe they just need to let it out. I don’t think the landlord will stand for them doing it here though, and they’re ruining Mary and Ted’s evening.”
Sure enough, the landlord, a small, round man, alerted to the sound of trouble, appears at the door. “What the hell are you two doing? Get out of my pub, lads, and sleep it off. Joey, Alex, I can see it’s down to you. You’re banned for a month!”
The brawling ceases, but the muttering remains. Challenges are uttered, and accepted, and a dangerous atmosphere replaces the previous harmony.
“We should go now, just get out of the way,” Johnnie says.
