On the Right Track

by Penelope Janu

  When I shove my laptop and papers into my bag and walk to the door, Tor walks behind me, following me out of the house and down the few steps to the garden.

  CHAPTER

  20

  It’s well after midnight, quiet except for the dull crash of waves in the distance. When I open the gate for Tor he passes through it and waits for me on the footpath. Most of the houses have off-street parking, so besides Tor’s BMW and my four-wheel drive, the street is deserted. I throw my bag onto the passenger seat before facing Tor. The streetlight down the road dimly illuminates his face.

  He’s exhausted and too tired to hide it. He told Eric that he hadn’t slept for twenty-four hours.

  ‘Why keep this from Eric?’ he says.

  ‘As it concerns my father and racing, he’ll think the worst. Do I have your word that you won’t get rid of me?’

  ‘Make a deal, you mean?’ He slowly shakes his head. ‘No, Golden. I meant what I said. I don’t want you to continue.’

  ‘I think you’ll need my help to talk to the person who made me change my mind.’

  ‘What person?’

  ‘The person whose name I forgot to put on the list I gave you. Someone I saw when I went to the races.’

  ‘Go on,’ he says.

  ‘Well … I’d seen him at Randwick too, which was sort of funny, really. Do you remember what we talked about at the cafe, when I met Nate for the first time? That the reactions of people who didn’t want to speak to me would be as important as the reactions of people who did?’

  ‘I remember. Are you saying this man avoided you at Randwick?’

  ‘I got that impression, but I didn’t want to see him either, which is probably why I didn’t think much of it at the time. But I’m sure he wouldn’t have approached me at Rosehill if you’d been with me. That’s why you’re going to need my help. What this person said, it made me realise I want to find out what happened to my father, why he left for Hong Kong in the first place.’

  Tor speaks slowly and quietly. ‘Golden, you’re worrying me. You saw someone at Rosehill who avoided you at Randwick? Who was he? What did he say?’

  ‘It might not be relevant. He didn’t say much.’

  ‘Golden, please.’

  I shrug. ‘His name is Tomas Farmer. He and my father worked for the same trainer when they were apprentice jockeys. Tomas didn’t have much to do with Grandpa because he didn’t get many rides on the Group 1 horses Grandpa usually trained.’

  ‘What did Farmer say?’

  ‘He said Dad was helping the apprentices and that was what started it all; it was why my father couldn’t come back for good. Whatever Tomas was talking about must have taken place before I was born, because that was when my father went to Hong Kong.’

  Tor grasps my shoulders. Maybe I flinch, because after a moment he loosens his grip.

  ‘Fuck,’ he says. ‘Fuck.’

  ‘You swear too much for a diplomat. Do you know Tomas?’

  ‘I know of him. His name cropped up as a contemporary of your father. But Farmer never travelled, he lived within his means, there were no other links to your father that seemed relevant.’

  ‘I worked out I was eleven the last time I saw him. I felt sorry for him, because even though my father hardly ever came to Sydney he got much better rides than Tomas did. I felt sorry for him again when I saw him at Rosehill. He was nervous. He kept looking over his shoulder. I guess I should have asked him if he wanted to go inside for a drink instead of firing questions at him, but the race was about to start. Anyway, he got spooked when …’

  Something in Tor’s expression shuts me up. Tension is etched on his features. He speaks tersely. ‘You asked Farmer questions?’

  I nod.

  ‘What were they?’

  ‘He didn’t answer them.’

  ‘That doesn’t matter. Tell me what they were.’

  ‘I don’t know, just …’ When I yawn my eyes water and Tor’s face goes blurry. ‘I asked whether when he said “apprentices” he meant apprentice jockeys. And I asked whether he was saying my father couldn’t come back from Hong Kong because of what had happened. That’s all I think. I didn’t mention you, if that’s what you’re worried about.’

  ‘But he knew you were interested in what he had to say, didn’t he? If he is reporting to someone, they’ll be tipped off that, after years of having nothing to do with racing, you’re not only back in the thick of things, but concerned about what happened to your father.’

  Put like that, I see why Tor might be concerned. But …

  ‘You’re overreacting,’ I say. ‘I think Tomas was just being nice to me, letting me know my father wasn’t totally bad. I don’t think he’s associated with any of your criminals, but it is possible he knows something about my father.’

  Tor’s jaw is set. ‘You’re telling me I have nothing to worry about? Even though you’re now appearing in public, and interrogating people?’

  ‘I’m good at reading people, you know I am. Even though I’m not a proper spy. Even though you won’t tell me anything, so I have to stumble around in the dark. Tomas was frightened. Maybe he was scared of your criminals, but that doesn’t make him a criminal too, does it?’

  Tor expels his breath in a rush. He speaks quickly. ‘There were allegations that a race was fixed. It happened just before you were born. The Racing Board held an inquiry. Your father and others—trainers, owners, jockeys, racing officials—were questioned. The board’s findings weren’t conclusive so the race result stood. That race, your father’s move to Hong Kong, the significant amount of money paid into his bank account shortly after the race—in themselves they don’t amount to much, but they’re all connected to what I’m looking at now.’

  ‘The man you want to catch in Hong Kong. Is he connected to that race?’

  ‘Potentially, yes.’

  ‘Tomas was interviewed by the Racing Board too, wasn’t he? That’s what’s making you edgy. What about Grandpa? Was he interviewed?’

  Tor speaks between his teeth. ‘No comment.’

  ‘I suppose I could have said something earlier. About talking to Tomas. That’s what you’re unhappy about, isn’t it?’

  Tor gets his phone out of his pocket and stabs at the screen. As he puts it to his ear he meets my gaze again.

  ‘First the media attention, now this. I lack the vocabulary to describe what I’m feeling right now, but “unhappy” goes nowhere near it.’

  ‘I didn’t—’

  ‘Nate!’ Tor barks. ‘I’m still at Clovelly. Get over here.’

  As I take out my keys he finishes the call, and then blocks my path to my car. The V-neck of my jumper has slipped over my shoulder. There’s no need to follow his gaze to know what he’s looking at. I stare at his mouth as he stares at my collarbone.

  I whisper, ‘Tor?’

  He turns side on and shoves his hands in his pockets, then faces me again. ‘Back there,’ he jerks his head in the direction of the house, ‘you said you don’t like me, you have no reason to like me.’

  ‘Yes. So?’

  ‘You said the tension between us, it can’t go anywhere.’

  ‘That’s right.’

  I could push him away when he slowly lifts his arm, but I stand passively, patiently, expectantly. His thumb strokes from the top of my shoulder, to the hollow at my throat.

  ‘So fucking complicated,’ he says.

  I rest my hands on his chest, to steady myself, to get closer. It’s always a shock, the hardness of his body.

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  He rubs a lock of my hair between his fingers. His voice is gruff. ‘I’m sick of worrying about you.’ When he dips his head, his breath is warm on my neck.

  I hardly recognise my own voice, its huskiness. ‘I can look after myself.’

  He laughs softly when our eyes meet. ‘No fucking way.’ He cups my face. ‘I meant what I said, Golden. My investigation—I want you out of it. You have to accept that.’

  He’s
not expecting me to push as hard as I do as I twist away. I don’t expect to trip on the kerb, banging my elbow against the side mirror of my car. When I stumble he hauls me upright. Then puts me back to where I started, my body pressed up against his.

  There’s a note of panic in my voice. ‘Let me go!’

  He opens his arms, steps back, speaks quietly. ‘Leave the investigating to me.’

  ‘No! You used me. You dredged things up that I didn’t want to face, so now I have to deal with them. I want to know what happened with my father. And I want to protect Grandpa.’

  Tor looks over his shoulder when a taxi pulls up across the road. Nate gets out and walks to the driver’s window, bending low to talk to him.

  ‘Why did you ask Nate to come?’ I say.

  ‘You’ll have to learn to trust me,’ Tor says.

  ‘What? When you accuse me of living off dirty money?’

  ‘I shouldn’t have said that.’

  ‘But you did! And you still believe it, don’t you?’

  He frowns. ‘Technically speaking, yes.’

  ‘You’re manipulative. You made me admit to being with Marc. Eric didn’t need to know that, neither did you.’ I straighten my jumper over my shoulders. ‘Other things you do. They’re manipulative too.’

  ‘For fuck’s sake, that’s not—’

  ‘It doesn’t matter! My list has been useful to you already. So has introducing you to racing contacts. I can do more.’

  ‘We don’t know how our suspect will react if he finds out we’re onto him.’

  ‘I’ll do exactly what I’m told. And if anyone works out what’s going on, you can always let me go, like we agreed at the start.’

  Tor articulates each of his words. ‘The answer is no.’

  I lift my chin. ‘I’ll work things out on my own if you get rid of me.’

  When I was little and Grandpa wasn’t there to help me, I used a milk crate to climb onto my pony. A few years later I got onto Sol’s thoroughbreds by lengthening the stirrup leathers as far as they’d go and hoisting myself into the saddle. After my fall I couldn’t angle my left foot into a stirrup iron so I clambered to the top rail of the stable yard fence and jumped onto Fudge’s back that way. That’s when Grandpa got me the mounting block. He told me it was a safer option for a girl who refused to give up.

  Tor raises his brows. ‘How?’

  My voice is firm. ‘I know where Tomas works. I’m pretty sure he’ll confide in me if I meet him somewhere quiet. And that race you mentioned, the one the Racing Board interviewed my father and the other racing people about, it was the Queen Elizabeth Stakes at Randwick, wasn’t it? My father was riding Madam Butterfly and she won by a length. She had long odds and an outside barrier. He only got the ride because her regular jockey pulled out.’

  He narrows his eyes. ‘How do you know that?’

  ‘Grandpa kept records of my father’s Group 1 wins, and that was the last win he had before he moved to Hong Kong. I know who trained Madame Butterfly. If they’re still around I’ll speak to them as well, and—’

  ‘Don’t do this.’

  ‘Then let me help! We can go back to how we were.’

  His nostrils flare. He’s beautiful, powerful and dangerous. An unbroken colt, cornered in a yard.

  He spits his words. ‘You’re not only threatening me, you’re threatening what I’m doing, my work.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘If we continue as we were, if you’re involved, there can be nothing between us. Is that what you want?’

  When I woke up in Eric’s study, Tor smiled as if he was pleased to see me. He told me I’d been fast asleep. How long had he been watching me? What would it be like to go to sleep next to him, and wake up with him the next morning?

  My voice is small, too small. ‘That’s what I want.’

  There’s an ache in my chest as I watch him walk to Nate. He’ll let me help, not because he values or respects me, but because I’ve given him no choice. Outside of the investigation, he’ll leave me alone. I should be happy with that. I’ve got what I wanted.

  CHAPTER

  21

  I’m sitting on a sandstone boulder down by the creek when I hear Nate shouting. ‘Golden!’

  The rock is warm on the backs of my legs and the sun feels good on my face. I’ve had clients all morning. Ramsay will be here soon, then Elka.

  ‘Where are you?’ Nate yells.

  He didn’t warn me he was coming even though I only spoke to him this morning. Tor’s only contact has been an email, received the day after I saw him in Clovelly.

  Golden, I’m looking into Tomas Farmer. I’ll be away for a few weeks, but Nate will be in Sydney. Is there anything else I should know?

  Tor made Nate follow me home after I told him about Tomas Farmer. Nate inspected every room of my house except for my bedroom. ‘No!’ I said, standing in front of the door to block his entry. ‘There’s nobody in here, and no bugs or whatever it is that you’re looking for.’

  I’ve got so accustomed to Grandpa’s folders being on the floor of my room, I don’t trip over them anymore, even in the dark. I knew the documents were dated from when I was born to when Grandpa died, but I had no idea how much he’d recorded. How he managed to keep them up to date when he was so unwell I have no idea. He must have done it while I was at university, or on clinical placements.

  ‘Golden!’

  It’s getting difficult to ignore Nate. It sounds like he’s in the bottom paddock and I have to head back, so it’s only a matter of time before he finds me. What about Tor? Is he striding through the paddock as well?

  ‘I’m here!’ I call.

  Nate steps through the grevillea bushes. He’s alone. A combination of relief and disappointment creates a hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach.

  ‘I was worried about you,’ Nate says. ‘The back door was wide open.’

  ‘Sometimes my clients come early.’

  As I cross the log with my arms outstretched, he frowns. ‘I only looked down here because of the horses,’ he says, ‘they were facing this way.’

  When I step off the end of the log and hold out my hand, he takes it and hauls me up the incline.

  ‘Traitors,’ I say.

  ‘It’s not funny.’ He reaches for his phone as we walk up the hill. ‘Tor, it’s me. I’ve found her.’ He listens for a while. ‘It doesn’t matter. She’s fine, that’s the main thing.’

  ‘I would’ve come out of hiding earlier if I’d known you were on your own.’

  He grimaces. ‘How are you?’

  ‘Just like you said, I’m fine. How’s Ange?’

  ‘Angelina?’

  ‘My sister. The woman you’ve been sleeping with.’

  He stops dead. But within a few long strides he catches up with me again.

  ‘Angelina said you didn’t care,’ he says. ‘Tor told me if I was indiscreet he’d end my career. Other than that, he didn’t care either. It’s over now, anyway.’

  I glance at Nate’s profile. He’s putting on a brave face.

  ‘I presume it was Angelina who ended it? I haven’t spoken to her for a couple of days.’ I put my hand on his arm for a moment. ‘Are you all right?’

  ‘Yeah, I’m all right.’

  ‘I hope you can be friends.’

  ‘Don’t see why not.’ He smiles but his eyes are sad. ‘Angelina is friendly with just about everyone.’

  Angelina told me she’d only discovered after she’d slept with Nate a few times that he might want to get serious. I’m not sure how much information I should give him.

  ‘Maybe she was trying to avoid hurting you.’

  Nate shrugs. ‘It didn’t work too well.’

  Fudge nickers gently as we approach, and Pepper stamps a hoof. When I climb through the fence, Nate follows. He’s cautious, keeping as far away from the horses as possible.

  ‘Tor was right about you and Angelina,’ he says. ‘You’re very protective of her. Even though you’re the one
who’s …’

  Mentioning Tor sets my teeth on edge. ‘What? Damaged? Unpleasant?’

  ‘I was going to say vulnerable.’

  ‘That’s even worse!’

  Nate catches up as I march through the gate and onto the path leading to the driveway. My footsteps are loud on the gravel. We’re getting close to his car when he speaks again.

  ‘I didn’t mean to offend you.’

  ‘Try not to do it again.’

  ‘That’s a big ask.’ He drapes an arm around my shoulders. ‘Jeez, you’re small. I couldn’t do this with my sisters.’

  I push him away. ‘I’m busy, Nate. Why are you here?’

  ‘Just thought I’d drop by.’

  ‘Has Tor conceded I was right? That me speaking to Tomas, asking him questions, wasn’t a problem? Because he’s harmless?’

  ‘Tor and I don’t think Tomas is dangerous per se. But we have no idea who else is out there, and whether they know you’re involved. Once we get our Hong Kong guy, we’re likely to leave you alone.’

  A car appears at the end of the driveway. ‘That’s my client, Nate. You’d better move your car. Ramsay gets agitated if his dad can’t park in his usual spot.’

  Nate takes his key out of his pocket. ‘Tor wants to know if there’s anything else you should be telling him.’

  My bedroom faces the front of the house. I resist the temptation to look that way, to reassure myself the folders aren’t visible.

  ‘I’ll let you know if I think of anything.’ I take his arm and kiss his cheek. ‘I’m sorry it didn’t work out with Angelina.’

  I turn away before he has the chance to reply. Ramsay is sitting in the back of the car, not looking directly at me, but waving his iPad. I smile and wave back.

  I’m saying goodbye to Ramsay and his father when Elka and her mother arrive. Even before the car stops, Elka bounces up and down in her car seat. She won’t stop wriggling as I undo her straps.

  ‘Fuuudge first,’ she says. ‘Then I waaant to dance with you. Mummy is sick.’

  Mattie puts her window down. She’s pale and forcing a smile. ‘Thanks, Golden,’ she says. ‘See you in an hour and a half.’

  ‘You look terrible. Why don’t you wait here? Put your feet up and rest.’