Just Jack

by Adele Broadbent

  ‘Here we go,’ said Laddie, opening the door of a sparkling red Buick parked outside the station. Isobel slipped into the front seat.

  ‘Slide your case in the back, Jack,’ said Laddie with a wink. ‘I’ve been doing some business in town. We’ll be off home now.’

  So far, so good. But I’d thought that before. I watched Isobel from the back seat. She stared straight ahead, stone-faced. Even when Laddie had introduced her, she hadn’t said a word, just nodded and looked away. Her brown eyes reminded me a little of Annie’s, except my sister wasn’t so pale. Isobel was my height, and I guessed about twelve or thirteen, but her pink cardigan and the frilly ribbon in her hair made her look much younger.

  ‘Your uncle sings your praises, lad,’ said Laddie, driving away from the station. ‘Can’t say enough good things about you.’ He smiled over the seat. ‘He says you have a gift.’

  ‘I’ve always loved horses, sir.’ ‘Laddie. Call me Laddie.’

  We chatted about horses for the remainder of the journey. Laddie tried to involve Isobel, but she just fingered the ribbon in her dark, wavy hair, and never spoke.

  I watched out the window, enjoying the ride. Laddie seemed a ‘good bloke', like Uncle Onslow had promised. That’s what mattered, not that his daughter was a terrible snob.

  When we drove alongside a long, high tin fence, I asked, ‘Is that—’

  ‘Napier Park Raceway, Jack,’ said Laddie. ‘Built in 1860 by Mr Henry Tiffen, and a fine man he was. Without him, Napier would probably still be without its own course.’

  Laddie graunched the car’s gears. ‘Darn thing. One thing about a horse, eh, Jack? You change gears with your heels.’ Still laughing, he turned into a driveway.

  Giant macrocarpa trees lined the way up to a wide, limed area in front of a grand, white house. A veranda three times as wide as Mrs Davis’s swept across the front. A thick green vine, brilliant with crimson flowers, wrapped itself around the railings and up towards the high, gabled roof.

  ‘Catching flies, Jack?’ Laddie chuckled.

  I closed my mouth, sure I’d heard a giggle from Isobel. Laddie parked the car in front of the house and leapt out to open her door.

  ‘Thank you, Father.’ She smiled, glancing over at me before running up the veranda steps.

  ‘She’s just a little shy, my Isobel.’ Laddie winked. ‘Grab your case, lad. Let me show you around.’

  Following him up a dirt drive to the left of the house, we soon reached the stables. They were made up of six stalls built in an L-shape, three along each side. A covered concrete walkway ran along the front of the stalls. I stepped inside one, amazed at the size — it was nearly double the size of Captain’s and Dazzle’s stalls, laid with fresh straw and complete with new concrete corner water troughs.

  Next, Laddie showed me the tack and feed rooms. They were part of another building opposite the stalls, turning the L into a U-shape, and making a type of courtyard between.

  No matter how long or hard I’d polished Mr Mac’s bridles and saddles, they never came close to looking like the gleaming tack hanging from dozens of brass hooks along the walls. The horse blankets didn’t have patches or loose stitching, and the brushes weren’t worn down at the edges from years of use.

  ‘One of the lads will show you my horses’ feeding requirements,’ said Laddie, leading me into the feed room. After Mr Mac’s dingy room, the whitewashed walls and scrubbed wooden benches were startling. The smell of oats and chaff wasn’t touched with mustiness, and the concrete floor was swept clean. I followed Laddie back out to the courtyard.

  ‘Well, what do you think?’

  ‘I think I’m going to like it here.’ I grinned. ‘I think I’m going to like it a lot.’

  ‘Fetch your case, lad. I’ll show you your sleeping quarters.’

  ‘And the horses?’ I asked, keen to see his animals. If their stalls were anything to go by, they’d be magnificent.

  Attached to the tack and feed building were more rooms. We stepped into a hallway, where Laddie slid a door open. ‘This is your room. Nothing too grand,’ he said, ‘but I’m told it’s warm in winter and the beds aren’t bad.’

  Even though this part of the building was older, it wasn’t stuffy or musty. Sunlight streamed through a small window above the bed onto a worn set of wooden drawers, with a battered alarm clock on top. The room was no bigger than the one I’d shared with Kenny, but it suited me fine.

  ‘Thanks … Laddie.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  I put my case down. ‘Thanks for giving me this chance.’

  ‘No need, lad. I need a new apprentice and you’ve been recommended.’ His voice dropped a little. ‘I know who you’ve been working for, Jack.’

  I looked up.

  ‘The fact that you stuck at it shows me what a hard worker you are.’ He smiled. ‘And besides, you’re smaller than most. I like my jockeys as small as possible. Got to have an edge to win races, son.’

  ‘Can I see the horses now?’

  Behind the stables, a dozen yards were built in two rows of six. Horses stared over the high wooden rails as we approached.

  ‘I have six racehorses,’ said Laddie. ‘All have been successful at the track in some fashion.’ So his horses were actually racing. Mr Mac had never got his horses race-ready the entire time I was there. Captain would surely fly. Why wasn’t he ever ready? I shook my head. It didn’t matter any more.

  Laddie’s first yard held a stunning bay mare, nearly as tall as Captain. She snorted in recognition of her owner. There was also a grey, speckled with white along her rump, and two charcoal geldings. They stood stock-still, ears pricked, nostrils flaring, staring over at me. In the last two yards were smaller horses, both also bay mares.

  ‘I have two other jockeys, so you will be in charge of two horses each.’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ I nodded, instantly wondering which two would be mine.

  ‘Everyone works together here, Jack.’ He nodded. ‘I’m sure you’ll fit in just fine.’ He pointed to the small bays. ‘These two are yours. To muck out, ride, and help train.’

  ‘Gosh!’ I leaned over the rail. ‘What are their names?’

  Laddie looked affectionately at his animals. ‘That’s Copper.’ He pointed to the closest. ‘And that’s Satin — their stable names, anyway. You can tell the difference by the white markings on Satin’s pasterns.’

  I looked down at Satin’s ankles, then gazed from one horse to the other. Was all this real? I watched Laddie stroking another horse’s neck. This boss was so different from … The stables were so grand, the gear all so new. And two horses to myself!

  ‘Where are the other jockeys?’ I asked, looking around from the top rail.

  Laddie pulled a watch from his waistcoat pocket. ‘They’ll be back soon. They’re out cutting grass for the horses.’

  On the way back to the stables, Laddie chuckled to himself. ‘You haven’t asked about your wages, Jack.’

  Wages. I hadn’t even thought about it. Doing an apprenticeship at his marvellous stables was enough for me. If only I’d started months ago. No Kenny. No snoring. And hopefully, track work — soon.

  ‘Your wages are ten shillings per week, plus board, plus one pair of boots per year,’ Laddie continued. ‘When you’ve completed your apprenticeship, well, who knows?’

  Ten shillings! And boots! I grinned so hard that Laddie burst out laughing.

  ‘It’s dinnertime soon,’ he said, stopping outside the sleeping quarters. ‘You’ve got some time to unpack. Mrs O’Brien, my housekeeper, likes us all to be punctual for dinner at midday.’

  ‘Yes, sir. Thank you.’ He strode off towards the house.

  My unpacking done in minutes, I checked out the rest of the sleeping quarters. At the other end of the hall, past two sliding doors I figured led to more bedrooms, there was a small bathroom. Towels were stacked on a shelf, with a tatty cane basket underneath. A small sign above the basket read IN THE BASKET — NOT AT IT, PLEASE — Mrs O’
BRIEN.

  She didn’t sound as kind as Mrs Davis. I headed up to the house, wondering if Mr Baxter’s wife was as nice as her husband.

  I wasn’t sure whether to knock on the back door, but no one heard me when I did anyway. I pushed it open, stepping into a storage porch. Wooden crates were stacked at one end, and sacks of flour and sugar at the other. Mouth-watering smells of freshly baked bread and the sound of voices drifted from inside. When I heard Laddie’s deep laugh, I ventured up some steps into a kitchen.

  ‘There you are. I was just about to send someone to fetch you.’ A woman lifted a rack of loaves from a huge oven. ‘I’m Mrs O’Brien. Welcome to you, Jack Baines.’

  I smiled, surprised at how young she was. No older than my mum, maybe even younger. A thick red plait hung down her back, almost to her apron strings, and her green eyes sparkled above hundreds of tiny freckles. She slid the loaves into a basket and pulled off her apron. ‘Come with me, Jack. Dinner is served.’

  The laughter quietened when I entered the dining room. Laddie smiled from the end of a long, polished table, and other faces turned towards me. Isobel sat next to her father, and a man with bushy white eyebrows sat opposite. The boy next to Isobel turned to see what they were looking at.

  I knew even before he turned around. My stomach plummeted. It was Kenny.

  Chapter 12

  ‘Sit down, lad,’ said Laddie.

  Kenny’s jaw dropped, his eyes widening. He recovered quickly from his surprise, though, forcing a smile to his face.

  I tore my gaze from him and moved to where Laddie was pointing. Too bad it was opposite Kenny.

  Laddie didn’t notice the tension, and so he began the introductions. ‘You’ve met Isobel, of course.’ She smiled, which was more than I’d got earlier. ‘And Gordon,’ he said, gesturing to his right. ‘He’s my head lad.’

  ‘Baldy,’ grunted the leather-skinned man, frowning at Laddie. ‘Only my ma calls me Gordon.’ Baldy was no lad. He looked older than Dad, and when I stared at his short buzz-cut, Kenny laughed, prompting Laddie’s next introduction. ‘And this fellow is Kenny.’

  I couldn’t avoid him any longer. ‘We’ve met,’ I grumbled. Kenny’s fake smile faded, a flicker of fear in his eyes.

  ‘You have?’ asked Laddie.

  Before I could answer, Kenny jumped in. ‘That’s right. We met at the Hastings track a few times, eh, Jack?’ ‘What?’ I blurted.

  ‘Remember,’ he said. ‘You rode that black gelding. Captain, wasn’t it?’ Sweat broke out on his forehead. I’d never seen Kenny in such a panic before. He nodded at me, urging me to agree.

  ‘Um, yes,’ I said reluctantly, my gaze flicking between Laddie and Kenny. ‘That’s right, it was at the track.’

  Kenny hid his relief, reaching for a loaf from the centre of the table. He quickly changed the subject. I watched in disbelief through dinner. Kenny was like a different person. Isobel giggled and hung off his every word, and they all laughed at his jokes. Even Gordon smiled, although he didn’t say much.

  As Mrs O’Brien cleared the table, Laddie stood. ‘Thank you, Mrs O’Brien, for a fine meal. Gordon, I’d like you to show Jack the stable routine, starting with the horses’ exercise this afternoon.’ Gordon — Baldy — gave a nod.

  Laddie turned to me. ‘Your time is your own between dinner and three o’clock. We’ll see you at the stables, three sharp.’

  ‘Yes, Laddie.’

  Baldy and I strolled across to the stables. ‘Like Laddie said, we start work again at three and take the horses for a walk. I’ll see you later. I’m off home for a bit.’

  ‘I thought you lived here?’ I asked, remembering the two extra rooms in the sleeping quarters.

  ‘Nope. Just you and Kenny.’ He turned and ambled off down the dirt drive.

  I groaned to myself. Oh, great.

  ‘Jack!’ Kenny strode over from the house. ‘You didn’t say anything to Baldy, did you?’ ‘About what?’

  ‘Look,’ he shot a glance back at the house, ‘thanks.’

  My mouth dropped open in mock surprise.

  ‘Yeah, yeah, OK,’ he said. ‘You keep your mouth shut about me working at Mac’s and I won’t make things difficult, OK?’

  ‘Why should I trust you? Anyway, why lie?’

  ‘You’ve had the grand tour. You’ve seen how good it is here. There was no way Mac would give me a good reference, so I stretched a few truths.’ Suddenly he smiled and waved to someone. Isobel waved back and skipped around the front of the house.

  ‘You’ve sure got her fooled,’ I said.

  ‘She’s just a kid. Wouldn’t think she was thirteen, would you? Laddie dotes on her. She even has a private tutor, so she doesn’t have to go to school. Anyway,’ Kenny’s top lip curled up, ‘doesn’t hurt if she has a crush on me.’

  I shrugged. More fool her. ‘Where’s Mrs Baxter?’

  ‘She died ages ago. That’s all I know. So, are you going to keep quiet?’

  I looked past his shoulder. ‘I’ll think about it and let you know.’ Robert had used that line on me dozens of times at home. It felt great to use it, especially on Kenny. I turned away, strolling off as cool as I could, trying not to laugh at the look on his face.

  I spent the next hour or so getting to know my horses, Satin and Copper. Straddling the top rail of Copper’s yard, I stared back at the house. What were the chances of meeting up with Kenny? Uncle Onslow said there were lots of stables in Napier. Why did Kenny have to be at this one? I shrugged. At least it wasn’t just the two of us. I’d stick with Baldy and stay out of Kenny’s way. He had them all fooled with his act and I was new. I wasn’t going to spoil things trying to show them what he was really like. Kenny was right about one thing, though: this place, after Mr Mac’s, was heaven.

  I chose Copper for the afternoon ride because she reminded me so much of Dazzle. She, too, was gentle, but was wary at first as Dazzle had been. Baldy had the grey and the big mare to look after; and Kenny, the two charcoal geldings.

  Following along at a walk behind Baldy and Kenny on their rides, the shock of running into Kenny began to fade. Laddie seemed a kind, fair boss, and Baldy told me I’d start track work the very next day. The sun was warm on my face, summer was close and things felt better than they had for months. All the same, I felt safer holding Kenny’s secret over him.

  Copper skittered, snorting at the toot of a car horn. I reached down and rubbed her warm neck, whispering to settle her. I’d miss Mr Mac’s horses, but now I had Copper and Satin. And another chance to show my family that I could be a jockey.

  That evening, tea was more relaxed than dinner had been. Baldy’s chair was empty. He’d gone home when we’d finished in the stables. When Kenny started telling jokes again after our meal, I was soon laughing with the others.

  After tea, Kenny excused himself. ‘Thanks, Mrs O’Brien. I’m ready for the sack. Night, everyone.’

  ‘No doubt you’re used to early starts, Jack?’ said Laddie, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘Laddie, remember?’ He winked.

  ‘Yes, Laddie. I’d better be going, too.’

  Outside, Kenny waited for me with a kerosene lamp. ‘I knew you wouldn’t be far away.’ As we walked to our rooms, I peered at him sideways, waiting for a jibe.

  ‘I watched you with the horses this afternoon,’ he said. ‘You’re not so green any more.’ I nodded without a word. We reached our quarters and, just as I slid my door open, Kenny spoke again. ‘We’ll see how good you really are at the track tomorrow.’

  Lying in bed, hands behind my head, I stared up into the darkness beyond the soft light of the lamp. Apart from the distant barking of a dog, there wasn’t a sound. I couldn’t wait for the next day, even though the washday bubbles had found their way back into my stomach. I hadn’t ridden properly for so long — what if I fell? Kenny’s words flashed through my mind, and I reached for the lamp. I wanted to be up early.

  I was dressed and ready when
Kenny banged on my door at five o’clock. He looked disappointed. ‘Ready,’ I said cheerfully.

  Several lamps were already lit when we reached the stables. ‘Morning, lads,’ Baldy called out over a stall door.

  I began my new routine, mucking out my horses. I worked quickly, keen to make a good impression.

  Baldy looked in over the door. ‘Nice to see a lad who knows what he’s doing.’

  We saddled up in silence. With two horses each, we made our way down the dirt drive in the dark, the thud of the horses’ hooves changing to an echoing clatter as we reached the road.

  ‘Where’s Laddie?’ I asked.

  ‘He’ll be at the track already,’ said Baldy.

  I held tight to Satin’s reins with my right hand, leading Copper with the other. I shifted in my saddle, trying to hide the excitement simmering in every muscle. Finally, I was going to do track work. With not one horse, but two!

  Kenny rode alongside for a short stretch, and I wondered if he knew I hadn’t ridden track yet. Laddie seemed to know the whole story, but would he have told Kenny? I doubted it. Besides, if Kenny knew, he would have crowed about it already.

  When I rode through the gates of the Napier Park Raceway, I instantly felt I belonged. Trainers and jockeys tipped their hats, smiling as we passed, calming my jitters.

  With our horses in the stalls, Laddie strolled over. ‘Kenny, lad, you’re first up.’

  Kenny stepped forward. ‘Yes, boss.’

  ‘Three laps half-pace for Coal and two-and-a-half for Jet. He needs to work into it.’

  ‘Yes, boss.’ Kenny swung himself into the saddle and walked off amongst other riders awaiting instructions. He turned and grinned.

  Don’t you worry, I thought. I’m coming this time.

  Baldy nodded at Laddie’s instructions for his horses, Silk and Nugget, and headed off after Kenny on Silk.

  Nugget pulled up her head, yanking her lead rope and neighing. ‘You don’t like going second, do you, Nugget?’ Laddie laughed, patting her neck.

  ‘Now, Jack,’ he said, looking down at me. I swallowed hard and listened, in spite of the pleading in my head. Please let me ride, please let me ride.