‘Well said,’ Ursula announced, clapping her hands together loudly.
‘What?’ Vanessa looked aghast. ‘Mother!’
Ursula shot her a warning look. ‘This is for Hollyfields,’ she said. It didn’t take an idiot to see that if Ella won; they would receive the same, if not more, publicity, than if Vanessa won. Ella was Robert Johnson’s true daughter after all. And show jumping was in her blood.
In fact, Ursula decided, this might be an angle worth milking for all it was worth. Particularly as she, the unfortunate widow, was instrumental in encouraging Ella to resume her career after several years’ absence from the show-jumping circuit. She could see the newspaper headlines already. “Grieving widow encourages daughter to take up father’s reins”. She patted her coiled bun reassuringly. Things might work out even better than she had originally planned.
‘I think it’s wonderful that you’ve both done so well,’ she said, beaming up at the two riders. ‘And I think Ella’s made a very valid point. I know we’ve had our little differences in the past, but it’s time to put all that behind us. We need to work together now. And I must say, having the two of you in the final is very gratifying, considering all the hard work we’ve put in at the stables…’
‘Oh give it a rest, woman,’ Heather snorted. Ursula’s sanctimonious warbling was making her stomach turn. ‘Ella’s here because she’s a naturally talented rider and the only reason Vanessa’s got through is because she’s on a bloody good horse.’
‘Excuse me?’ Vanessa sniffed down her nose at her. ‘I’ll have you know…’
‘Listen!’ Caroline shouted, waving her into silence.
‘What?’
‘It’s your turn,’ she said. ‘They’re calling your name.’
Which, indeed, they were. Vanessa went a ripe shade of cherry red as she fastened her hat and fumbled with the reins. How could she have missed it? Her one important moment, and she hadn’t even heard the announcement.
‘…Vanessa Johnson riding Minstrel,’ continued the commentator. ‘I repeat, do we have Vanessa Johnson?’
‘Yes! Oh my God!’ she said. She was flustered now.
‘Good luck,’ Ella said.
‘Yeah, right,’ she sneered. She’d probably done this on purpose.
‘I mean it,’ Ella said softly. ‘Minstrel’s a good horse. Make sure you do your best for him.’
‘Yes, good luck, darling,’ Ursula called, giving her a genteel little wave. She was past caring one way or the other. If Vanessa didn’t win, she was quite sure Ella would.
Chapter Seventeen
‘Did you get a close up of that?’ Lewis said, peering down at the collecting ring, where harmony seemed to have been restored between the various parties.
‘Yes, and we’ve got sound, courtesy of Trevor,’ Adam confirmed, pointing out one of the sound engineers perched rather precariously on a mobile crane unit.
‘I don’t think family squabbles are what Miles is looking for,’ Matthew said. ‘Not for an action film, anyway.’
‘Who says I wanted it for Miles?’ Lewis said, tapping the side of his nose.
‘All right, all right, what’s the big crisis,’ Lucy demanded, elbowing her way through the throng. Her russet coloured hair had been piled on top of her head and fastened with an expensive looking silk scarf. A mass of gold jewellery dangled round her neck and wrists. She had never been one for dressing down, but even she had to admit, albeit to herself, that her attire was not very practical for an Agricultural Show.
Matthew grinned. ‘Better late than never, eh, Luce?’
‘I’ll have you know I scuffed the toe of these rather expensive shoes rushing over here,’ she snapped. ‘They’re Jimmy Choo.’
‘We’ve found our horse and rider,’ Lewis told her, pointing down at the ring.
‘How?’ Lucy said. ‘They haven’t ridden the jump-off yet.’
‘Told you,’ Matthew gloated. He could see trouble looming, even if Lewis couldn’t.
‘That’s irrelevant,’ Lewis said.
‘Not from where I’m standing.’ Lucy leant one hand on his shoulder, and peered into the ring. ‘That grey Arab’s doing pretty well. Isn’t she one of the Johnson sisters?’
‘Yes,’ Lewis muttered. Never before had he wanted a rider to fall off more keenly than he did at this moment.
‘She’s gone clear,’ Matthew said.
The tremendous applause from the crowd signalled the worst. Vanessa was amongst the finalists. It was all down to timing now.
Lewis shook his head in despair. ‘She can’t win, Matthew. She can’t.’
‘Well she jolly well might, so you’d best think of an alternative part for her, if you’re determined to stick with Ella.’
‘That goes without saying.’
‘Right,’ he said. ‘Lucy – get your thinking cap on. This is important.’
The team from Blackwater Films were not aware of the journalist from the local press, who had entered the enclosure. Peter Marchant had come to get the story on the finalists for the morning paper. He already had a photographer down in the arena taking snapshots of the contestants. Now he wanted to get the film crews’ version of the event. He drifted surreptitiously through the crowds, picking up titbits of conversation here and there. Gabriella Johnson was the favourite to win. Rumour had it that she was the daughter of Robert Johnson – a famous show-jumper in his own right. The other girl – Vanessa, was her stepsister, which made things even more interesting – a bit of sibling rivalry – that sort of thing.
‘Ah, Mr Trevelyan,’ he said, producing a notepad and pencil from his breast pocket. ‘Could I have a few words?’
‘Not now.’ Lewis pushed past him.
‘It’s about the finalists,’ he continued, jogging after him. ‘I gather you want Miss Gabriella Johnson to win?’
‘I said, “Not now”.’
‘Is there any reason for that?’
‘Excuse me, please.’ Lewis ducked into the hospitality tent, his thoughts racing. Miles wasn’t going to be happy about this. It was turning into a farce. If the press got hold of the story that they favoured one rider over any of the others, and that rider didn’t win, they would have a field day if she subsequently appeared in the film
‘I’ve got it!’ Lucy said, trotting after him on her mud splattered pink satin shoes. Kitten heels were not appropriate for outdoor events. She would remember that in future. ‘Sod the horse,’ she said.
Lewis rounded on her, his eyes widening in incredulity. ‘What?’
‘Simon can’t ride anyway, so what’s the point?’
‘The point being,’ he muttered, ‘that this scene calls for action.’
‘Correct.’ She caught hold of his sleeve and gave it a tug. ‘Come with me, Lewis. I’ve got something to show you.’
‘I don’t believe she just did that,’ Heather said, as Vanessa came cantering out of the ring, a grin as wide as the English Channel on her face. ‘She’s only gone and got another clear round?’
Ella smiled. ‘It doesn’t surprise me. Minstrel’s a good horse.’
‘Yes, but too good for her.’ Heather frowned as she patted Majesty’s neck. ‘You will beat her, won’t you?’
‘I’ll certainly try to,’ she said. She glanced again at her watch, conscious of the unravelling passage of time. She hoped Heather was right about this, and that the film crew would understand. She hated letting people down. Punctuality and reliability were something she believed in.
‘Maybe you could get a message to Mr Trevelyan,’ she suggested.
‘What? And miss all the fun?’ Heather shook her head. ‘I’m not leaving until this is over, Ella. Besides, I don’t expect you’ll have to wait much longer. There are only two riders left.’
Apart from Vanessa, only one other girl had managed a clear round, but in a slower time. The penultimate rider was Hilary Frampton riding Pegasus, a flighty chestnut thoroughbred who had performed magnificently in the first round.
&nb
sp; Ella knew Hilary from years back, when they had both competed in the Junior Ponies UK championships. She was a formidable opponent, with an impressive competition record behind her. The horse she was riding was fast and sure-footed, with a natural talent for jumping. This, Ella decided, was her main rival.
‘That’s four penalty faults for Camellia Brown on Silver…’ the commentator was saying. ‘Miss Brown is now out of the competition. Our next competitor is Hilary Frampton, on Pegasus. If you recall, this horse had the fastest time in the preliminary round, which wasn’t against the clock. So let’s see if she can do equally well in this round. A big hand, please for Hilary Frampton.’
‘Stuck up little madam,’ Ursula said. ‘You do know who her father is, don’t you.’ She pointed to the Chairman’s box. ‘Only his right hand man, no less. Oughtn’t to be allowed,’ she added.
‘Why?’ Heather rounded on her. ‘I don’t see how having an influential father is going to affect her riding ability, do you?’
Ursula’s ferrety eyes narrowed slightly. She might have expected a comment like that from Heather Hutchins. She was another troublemaker, and no mistake. It was her decision to remove Majesty from the stables that had caused the business to almost collapse. Still, she would forgive her that, she decided with equanimity – but only if Ella managed to pull this one off.
‘And that’s the fastest time so far,’ boomed the commentator, to the rapturous applause from the crowd. ‘Miss Frampton beats Miss Johnson’s time by five point two seconds.’
‘No-oo!’ Vanessa wailed, her hands going to her mouth. ‘Oh no!’
‘Oh shit!’ Caroline muttered.
‘That’s a good time,’ Heather said, giving Ella a leg-up. ‘Think you can better it?’
‘Only one way to find out,’ she said, urging Majesty forwards. ‘Come on, boy. Let’s see what you can do.’
The applause greeted her as she trotted into the ring. The commentator was making his introductions. ‘And now we have Miss Gabriella Johnson riding Majesty. And yes, in case you were wondering, she is related to Vanessa. I have been informed that the two girls are stepsisters. So well done the Johnson girls, for putting on such a splendid performance today. Now let’s see if Gabriella can snatch the prize from under the nose of Hilary Frampton, our current leader.’
‘She’s on,’ Matthew said, nudging James. They were wedged behind one of the ringside barriers, to the right of the main entrance. ‘Where’s Lewis?’ he added, peering back over his shoulder. ‘I thought he wanted to see her?’
‘God knows,’ James said, glaring at an elderly woman with a shooting stick, who seemed determined to spear him in the foot with it. ‘He took off with Lucy about five minutes ago. No, it’s not a problem,’ he said to the woman. ‘No, it did miss me. Come on.’ He tugged Matthew’s sleeve. ‘Let’s move over here. Otherwise,’ he added, under his breath, ‘I’m in danger of losing a toe. No, no, not a problem,’ he announced loudly. ‘We can see better from this spot.’
‘He should be here,’ Matthew fretted, glancing round the crowded arena.
‘You’re right. He should be,’ James said. ‘This is his ball game. And you know what, Matt? I think he’s lost the plot.’
‘What?’
‘All this business about that blonde haired girl.’ He jerked his head in the direction of the ring. ‘How he had to have her and no one else. Doesn’t it strike you as a bit over the top?’
Matthew shrugged. ‘You know Lewis. When he gets a hunch…’
‘Yeah, but this is more than a hunch,’ James said. ‘This is a bloody obsession. I mean, the girl’s not an actress.’
‘Not that we know of.’
‘But she is a good rider.’ James opened his arms and waved his hands around the Showground. ‘And how many of those have you seen out there.’
‘Dozens.’
‘My point exactly,’ he said. ‘And we need one for the scene. Just one.’ He shook his head, despairingly. ‘I tell you what, Matt – Miles was doing his nut back there. He wants the scene shot and the filming wrapped up today. For two pins I think he’d cut the horse chase from the film altogether.’
‘But he’s happy to use the Showground?’
‘Oh yeah, yeah, that’s not a problem. In fact, he’s got some good footage. Did you view any of the rushes?’
‘Didn’t have time, mate.’
‘Yeah, well, they’re excellent.’ He paused as a gasp from the crowd drew his attention back to the arena.
Majesty had brushed against the final pole in the triple and it was wobbling slightly. It stayed put.
‘She’s doing all right,’ Matthew told him.
‘Hmm. And she looks fast. Maybe she’ll be the winner after all.’
‘I certainly hope so.’ Matthew said. ‘It will solve a lot of our problems if she does win. Especially as our esteemed, and currently absent, producer has already ear-marked her for the part.’
‘It’s not going to happen, Lewis,’ Lucy said, guiding him through the quagmire of a field with as much decorum as she could manage. ‘You’ve got to be practical about this.’ She stopped and balanced on one foot as she tried to remove a splodge of mud from her once pink shoe. ‘Simon’s having trouble vaulting onto a stack of hay bales, let alone a horse.’
‘Which is why Ella’s going to be up there to help him?’ He stood patiently as she leaned one hand on his shoulder for support. ‘Where in God’s name are we going, Luce?’
They seemed to have wandered into an area cordoned off for agricultural vehicles. Everything from combines to tractors and trailers. He could see hedge trimmers; fancy gleaming ploughs, seed sowers, the lot. But unfortunately, the heavy machinery had dug up much of the soft, rain sodden ground, and unless they stuck to the tarmac road, which Lucy seemed unwilling to do, they were going to get coated in mud.
‘Over here,’ she said. ‘I want you to meet Charlie.’
‘Charlie?’ Lewis felt his temper starting to rise. ‘Who the hell is Charlie?’
He peered crossly at the groups of people wandering around the site. Most of them looked like farmers – either that or show officials. The Barbour wax jacket and green wellies were ‘de rigueur’ apparently. So he was patently out of place.
Besides which, he should be back at the Grand Ring watching the final of the show jumping. That was infinitely more important as far as he was concerned.
He stumbled into Lucy, who had stopped suddenly. ‘What the heck…’
‘This, my dear Lewis,’ she said, standing smugly to one side and pointing a well-manicured finger out in front of her, ‘is Charlie.’
Ursula was gnawing on a well-bitten fingernail as she watched Ella take a fast right hand turn and head for the double. ‘Come on, come on,’ she urged.
She let out a sigh of relief as Majesty sprang over the jumps and headed for the brush hedge. ‘How’s her timing doing?’ she said, shooting an anxious glance at Heather, who was looking equally as tense.
‘Neck and neck,’ she murmured.
It was going to be close.
Vanessa dabbed at her eyes with a clump of soggy tissues. She didn’t want Ella to win – that glory should have been hers - but she didn’t want her to lose either.
She hung her head and sniffed loudly. She couldn’t bear to watch.
‘There’s only the water jump left,’ Caroline said. ‘Oh my God!’
‘What? What!’ Vanessa’s head jerked upwards.
‘Majesty slipped – no – no, he’s all right…he’s ok.’
Heather shook her head.
The roar of the crowd surged around the arena.
‘Well?’ Ursula was on her feet and staring up at the huge black and white clock. The seconds were ticking away far too fast. ‘Has she done it? Has she?’
The crowd were clapping and shouting. Surely that must mean?
‘Ladies and gentlemen…’
Ursula clutched at Heather’s arm.
‘…We have a winner. By one point two seco
nds…’
‘Is it her?’ squeaked Vanessa, her voice high pitched and panicky.
‘Shut up!’ hissed Ursula.
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