FOLLOW THE MORNING STAR

by Di Morrissey

  TR picked up his small bag and stepped into the sunlight and Jenni watched him walk back along the flower fringed path with tears spilling from her eyes.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  The Wednesday of the Gold Coast Cup was a perfect May day — fresh in the early morning then sunny with a comfortable balmy breeze in the afternoon. The Cup was race six, scheduled for three-thirty. Saskia, Jenni, Mick and Tango arrived early as Saskia wanted to make sure there were no last-minute slipups. They were given long odds of fifteen to one, despite Toffee’s good win in one of the lead-up races.

  While Saskia settled Toffee into his stall, Jenni and Tango went off to scout around and see if they could find Ambrosia.

  ‘You all right?’ asked Tango gently as they wandered around.

  ‘Of course. Everything’s fine.’

  ‘Oh, I just thought . . . well, after, you know, TR dropping in so unexpectedly . . . Have you sorted all that out?’

  Jenni spoke quickly, sounding a little strained. ‘There wasn’t a lot to sort out. It’s TR who has the sorting out to do.’

  ‘You don’t want to talk about this now, do you?’

  ‘Not really,’ said Jenni.

  ‘Listen, I reckon you’re going to need a bit of extra schooling in the horse-racing game. How about you get some time off after all this is over and come and visit Guneda? And me. Just a friendly social tour. What do you say?’

  ‘Well . . . I don’t know.’

  ‘Come on, Jen, you’ll love it there, I promise. No strings attached.’

  ‘I don’t know if I can get away . . .’ Her voice wavered.

  ‘Sure you can. If you have any problems with the mob at Harmony Hill tell ’em I have a bad back which needs urgent fixing.’

  Jenni laughed a little. ‘I’ll look into it, but I’m not making any promises.’

  ‘Fair enough. But try hard, huh?’

  ‘I’ll see.’ Jenni was smiling broadly now.

  When they got back to the others, Saskia introduced Tango to Angus Wellburn, who’d just arrived, then asked, ‘How’s Ambrosia looking?’

  ‘Only saw him at a distance, they had so many bods around, I didn’t feel welcome. How do you fancy your chances on this bloke, Mick?’

  ‘Pretty good, but we seem to be the only fellas that think so.’

  ‘Ambrosia still has pretty good odds, but the favourite is High Noon,’ said Angus. ‘He’s a better known horse than Ambrosia. The bookies say he’s the one to beat.’

  Queenie arrived late in the morning and soon found the group camped about Toffee’s stall. She and Saskia hugged each other, Tango kissed her and held her at arm’s length. ‘Wow, you look great, Mum.’ She wore a straight fitting safari-green linen dress and a natural straw hat with a matching animal print green and brown chiffon scarf tied around its crown. Her burnished hair fell smoothly around her shoulders; her legs were bare and her feet slipped into soft emu-skin pumps she’d had made specially in Sydney.

  But behind the lovely smiling face there was a tenseness, a weariness in her eyes, a hint of sadness about her mouth. ‘Tango, we have to talk when you have a moment . . .’ She glanced at Jenni, giving her a cautious smile. Queenie was unsure how to treat Jenni — as a threat or a friend. In a swift glance she took in Jenni’s sky-blue cotton skirt and matching short-sleeved jacket. She looked pretty and youthful and Queenie could see why any man would be attracted to her.

  Tango touched his mother on the arm and introduced her to Angus who immediately launched into a long conversation about horses, Toffee, Sweet William and the chances of their girls winning today. Queenie listened to his enthusiastic chatter with half an ear, smiling and nodding, her eyes casting about for Tango who was talking to Saskia and Jenni. Before Queenie could catch Tango’s eye, Saskia excused herself, saying she wanted to find Ambrosia’s connections and check out the horse.

  Tango took Jenni by the arm and waved to his mother. ‘We’re going for a coffee,’ he called and was gone before Queenie could say a word. With a sigh she turned her attention back to Angus Wellburn. She’d break the news to Tango about having to give up Cricklewood after the race.

  Dressed in her riding clothes, Saskia thought she looked inconspicuous around the stable area, but many eyes followed the tall and strikingly lovely young woman in the figure-hugging moleskin pants and sleeveless silk tank top, her mop of thick curls shining in the sunlight. She didn’t recognise any of the people around Ambrosia’s stall, though a small dapper man was obviously the flash jockey they’d hired. The group moved away and Saskia, who’d been looking at a horse in a row further down, walked up and looked in Ambrosia’s stall.

  A young strapper sat on a small stool, flipping through a magazine. He looked up as Saskia peered over the top half of the stable door. ‘Yeah, want something?’ he said.

  ‘No, just looking at the horses. He looks good,’ she said nodding towards Ambrosia. ‘You watching him for the owners?’

  ‘No, I’m watching the saddle for the jockey,’ he said, thrusting a boot towards the saddle in a corner.

  ‘Smartalec,’ said Saskia and moved away. She’d barely gone a few paces when she came across Colin, smartly dressed and carrying a racing form. He was surprised to see her.

  ‘So you’re here too, Saskia! I thought I saw Jenni and your brother a little while ago. How come you’re all here? A family reunion?’ He gave an ironic smile.

  ‘Yep, my mum’s here too.’

  Colin looked a bit taken aback and none too pleased to hear that Queenie was at the track. This was not a major race, why were they all here? Surely not because a horse Tango had trained was running. He hoped they hadn’t got wind of Camboni’s betting plunge. But Saskia hurriedly explained, ‘I’ve entered Toffee in the race’.

  ‘Here? How come? He doesn’t stand a chance in any sort of a race. How’d you manage that?’ demanded Colin suspiciously.

  ‘He had a good record early on. I worked on him and thought he might come good again. No one else seemed to think so, or wanted him,’ she added pointedly.

  Colin shook his head. ‘So that’s why you wanted to buy him. You should’ve told me and I would have advised you to save your money and energy. You won’t mind if I don’t back him then. You’re crazy, kid. Look I’ve got people to chat up. See you after the race. Hey,’ he was suddenly struck by a thought, ‘did Tango know about this? Has he had anything to do with your horse?’

  ‘No way. I trained him myself and the farmer down the bottom of the hill still has a trainer’s licence so he entered him.’

  Colin gave a mocking smile. ‘Sounds like a bunch of amateurs to me. But full marks for trying, kid. You want a tip? Put your money on Ambrosia.’ He moved away.

  Alfredo Camboni and daughter Dina, both dressed in white, settled themselves in an air-conditioned glassed box in the DA Hollingdale Members’ Stand. George Bannerman and Tony Cuomo from the casino syndicate sat with them and the men bent their heads together in frequent whispered huddles.

  Dina, apparently bored, stood and smoothed her tight silk skirt down over her hips. ‘I’m going for a walk.’

  ‘Well eat lunch soon caro, find that husband of yours,’ said Alfredo as she left.

  Dina knew very well what her father, her husband and their friends were doing. She hadn’t been around racetracks with them over the years for nothing. They had set up a big betting plunge where hired punters, placed at various racetracks around the country, would put large sums of cash on Camboni’s horse. High Noon, the favourite, ridden by Donny Spukis, was considered Melbourne Cup winner material and a shoo-in to win. Ambrosia was not a well-known horse and his odds were quite long. At the last minute, while his odds were still good, a heavy spate of betting on Ambrosia would catch bookmakers by surprise. Quite how her father and Colin were going to make sure he won instead of the favourite wasn’t clear. But Dina suspected they’d probably paid the jockey to pull up the favourite. He was a one-time high-profile jockey but had been suspended for doubtful ri
des over the years, though nothing was ever proven.

  Dina was still deeply troubled about Colin. On an impulse she’d flown down to Sydney and made a few enquiries through her own network of friends and acquaintances, only to have confirmed what she already suspected. It had hurt her deeply when she realised the lengths to which her husband had gone to obtain enough money to leave her. This was no hidden pocket money he had accumulated, but a plan to amass a large amount of money so he could slip away from her. Well, she wasn’t going to let him get away with it. He was a fool to think he could outsmart her. She was a Camboni. As soon as she’d found out that he had lunched with Fredrico she had been suspicious. Colin’s surprise ‘find’ of a later letter didn’t convince her for a moment. Authentic as it appeared, she knew the forgery work of Fredrico’s connection was impeccable.

  Dina had waited until she was sure of what Colin planned to do. She had thought carefully about her own moves. The predominant hold she had over her handsome and sexy husband was money, and she had to make sure that nothing threatened that hold. She knew she had to turn the tables on Colin. She had to turn to Queenie for help.

  Dina decided to drop in to the Prime Minister’s Club Bar and order herself a glass of champagne. She stood sipping the bubbling liquid, staring across the course at the distant skyline of Surfers Paradise. A soft voice made her spin around.

  ‘Hello, Dina.’

  Queenie stood there and the two women stared intently at each other for a moment or two. ‘You were trying to contact me?’

  ‘Yes. Then I went to Sydney. I wanted to talk to you.’

  Queenie looked around. She couldn’t see Colin. ‘You want to talk now?’

  ‘Why not.’

  Queenie picked up her glass and headed for a table in a secluded corner. Her mind was racing as she tried to guess what Dina wanted. Was she in on Colin’s blackmail attempt or was she trying to do a deal of her own? Queenie was at the end of her rope over Colin’s demands. He’d won. She had no more resources and no more fight left. How it would break her father’s heart if he knew what was about to transpire. He had given Queenie Cricklewood for safekeeping, and she was about to fail him.

  The two women sat down and regarded each other, not with hostility but wariness. Despite the heavy make-up Dina looked tired.

  ‘Is this about Colin?’ asked Queenie.

  Dina nodded. ‘He has shown you the letter from your father about Cricklewood?’

  Queenie’s mouth tightened. ‘Yes, he has. I suppose you know I have discussed the . . . settlement with him.’

  ‘No, I didn’t. In fact, Colin has told me nothing of this matter. I happened to . . . find out.’

  Queenie looked at Dina in surprise, then her eyes narrowed. ‘So you don’t know he wants me to give him a large sum of money — a very large sum — in order to keep Cricklewood myself?’

  Dina shook her head. ‘It does not surprise me. I think he has ideas of . . . travelling.’ She paused and took a quick drag on her cigarette, adding with bitterness, ‘On his own’.

  She suddenly looked very sad, and Queenie realised that despite being difficult and demanding, Dina did love Colin. Queenie said slowly, ‘I can’t raise the money, Dina. I’ll have to give him Cricklewood.’

  ‘Have you handed over the deeds?’ When Queenie shook her head, Dina added firmly, ‘Then don’t’.

  Queenie sighed and took a sip of her champagne. ‘I wish I didn’t have to, Dina, but it’s the only way I can get Colin off my back once and for all. After this I want no contact with him. You know very well Colin doesn’t want to work the property. And I don’t imagine you want to go back on the land.’

  ‘I’m afraid it’s not my lifestyle. Nor is it for Colin, despite his upbringing. But, Queenie, I’m asking you not to give in to his demands. I’m telling you it is not necessary.’

  Queenie could feel her body tensing as she stared at Dina. ‘Why?’

  Dina shrugged. ‘The letter is a forgery.’

  ‘What!’ Queenie leaned forward. ‘Dina, please tell me everything you know. I’ve always had my doubts about it, even though it’s written in my father’s handwriting.’

  ‘If I tell you what I know, we must strike a bargain.’

  ‘What kind of bargain?’ Queenie suddenly felt a deal with Dina was going to be more to her advantage than one with Colin.

  ‘That you say nothing nor do anything against Colin. That the matter is laid to rest. We all go on as before. You keep Cricklewood and I keep Colin.’

  Overwhelming relief swept over Queenie and she began to understand the whole scenario. ‘Colin wanted money in order to leave you. I know he has none of his own.’

  Dina nodded. ‘This is not easy to admit to you or to myself.’ The brief glimpse Queenie had of Dina’s vulnerability was quickly covered up by steely determination. ‘But I am not going to let him leave. He had an acquaintance of ours get a certain gentleman to copy your father’s writing from an old letter. I can prove it if I have to. The men involved will not protect Colin against my father. So you see, as long as I hold onto this, Colin is mine.’

  Queenie leaned back in her chair. Dina was not going to let her handsome husband abandon her. Even if she had to blackmail and keep him tied to her bed by economic threats, it was better than not having him at all. In her heart Queenie knew Colin was a weak man who would stay and then look for further opportunities down the track.

  ‘I need to see this proof, I have to be sure,’ said Queenie.

  ‘No, you don’t,’ said Dina. ‘Just tell Colin you are not going through with the deal. Just mention the name Fredrico. He won’t argue.’

  Dina stood up. ‘That’s all I have to say.’

  Queenie rose too, her legs shaking as she realised Cricklewood was still hers. ‘Dina, thank you for telling me.’

  Dina gave a small twist of a smile. ‘I didn’t do it for you. I did it for me.’ She turned to move away, then paused, looking across the room. Standing in the doorway, his face white with shock, was Colin. He glanced at them both, then turned on his heel and disappeared.

  As the main race approached, Colin walked the course placing bets with various bookmakers. He had avoided Dina who remained in the box with her father and friends, but he was deeply concerned, wondering what the hell Dina and Queenie had been discussing together. He prayed Queenie hadn’t said anything about his demand for money. Dina would be suspicious right away.

  Everything was set, he didn’t want anything to go wrong now. Once he had the cash from Queenie he was on a plane to Mexico. He’d already lined up an agent to handle his finances as quickly and quietly as possible, with the rest of his money being sent to Mexico via a carefully arranged circuitous route. Today was supposed to be the icing on the cake. He was privy to a sure thing and knowing he’d soon have cash from Queenie to cover his debts, he planned to put a substantial whack on Ambrosia. He didn’t want anyone in the family to know the size of his bet and he certainly didn’t need Dina interfering at this stage. Damn her, why did she have a knack for stepping in right when he didn’t want her around? What could those two women be talking about? They loathed each other.

  Jenni and Queenie sat in the general grandstand saving a seat for Tango. Saskia, Angus and Tango were down at the saddling enclosure watching the eighteen starters in the Cup parade slowly past.

  ‘Ambrosia looks good,’ said Tango. ‘They can’t say I didn’t bring him up to peak fitness for this race. I did my bit, the rest is up to the Cambonis’ jockey.’

  ‘High Noon is still the favourite. Looks pretty good too,’ said Angus.

  ‘None of them look as good as Toffee and Mick though,’ insisted Saskia. ‘They both look like they’re going on a picnic. They look as pleased as punch to be there.’

  ‘Let’s hope Toffee knows it’s a race and not a cattle muster,’ mused Angus with a grin. ‘Saskia’s methods are a little unorthodox,’ he added to Tango.

  ‘Whatever the outcome, she has a job with me anytime she wan
ts — no nepotism involved. Sas has proved she’s got what it takes,’ grinned Tango, dropping his arm about her shoulders and giving her a quick hug. ‘Good luck, kid. I’ll head off to be with Mum and Jenni. I’d better put a bet on too.’

  He found Queenie and Jenni and settled beside them as the horses were ready for the start. ‘The odds on Ambrosia have suddenly shortened madly. High Noon is still tipped to win, but someone is putting a lot of money on Ambrosia,’ he told them.

  ‘That’s because they know you trained him,’ suggested Jenni, giving him a proud smile.

  ‘Thanks, Jen, but I don’t think so,’ said Tango.

  ‘Camboni and his cronies must be involved,’ Queenie said.

  ‘You look pretty pleased about things, Mum,’ said Tango noting her happy smile and animated manner. ‘I thought you looked a little strained earlier. Now, what did you want to talk about?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter now, darling. I’ve just had some good news. And I intend enjoying the day, win, lose or draw,’ Queenie told him.

  ‘That’s good.’ Tango smiled at Jenni. ‘How’s the half owner doing?’

  ‘I don’t know how I’m going to be able to stand it. I’m shaking with excitement and the race hasn’t even started. This is the first time I’ve ever been to the races,’ she bubbled.

  Tango took her hand. ‘I’ll hold you up.’

  With the announcement of the main race, people left bars and found vantage places to view the running of the Cup. A certain excitement and expectation in the atmosphere was almost tangible. Binoculars were focused on the horses as they were locked into the starting stalls. Last minute punters hurried back from placing their bets to secure a position to see the race. The drifting, circling, colourful crowd were now all gathered around the track waiting for the start.