by Brian Cain
CHAPTER FIFTY TWO
The race was close and the paddock crowds began to turn over quicker as people jostled for race view positions. Flemington racecourse was put on the national heritage list in two thousand and six, the Melbourne Cup stopped the entire nation and was about to wake a second. Jodi, Susan and Gail jostled Anna and Dylan through the crowd to a spot opposite the winning post on the rail. They joined esteemed guest Kalika Palmer from the UK, Roger Palmer had been taken to the paddock by Winston to see Flaxmead. The entire area had been secured by Thunderbolt in prior arrangement with Blake to make sure the children were where they wanted to be. Everyone was in the area, as Anna and Dylan passed people from the valley they heard similar lines. 'If only I had known that things would have been different.' And more than once. 'We have to talk about this before we allow something stupid to happen like that again.' Anna and Dylan were oblivious to the comments and wide range of people Flaxmead had brought together, they had just come to see their pet horse run. The widest range of occupations and levels of income ever gathered in one spot before in open conversation. They all agreed on one thing, Flaxmead would win the cup. The conversations of common ground grew as debate expanded to politics and the future of the valley. What if Flaxmead failed?
The team had been so busy and stressed they only just got to evaluate race tactics, but who could convey race strategy to the thunderbolt, listening wasn't one of his major skills. The cup had twenty runners and Flaxmead was given the biggest weight in the history of the event sixty eight kilos. Harper was outraged, he bottled it up and odds on the favourite went up from paying a dollar four to a dollar six, he still remained the most backed horse in the history of the cup.
Something else was wrong, Flaxmead was flat, he mopped around the parade paddock way of his usual self. Ross Hildebrand had a hunch, it was the first time Celtic Storm had not been in the parade ring with him for many races. He had noticed this could be Flaxmead's weak spot months before. He had drawn barrier twenty, the initial straight run from the gates in the starting chute before turn one was eight hundred metres so it was not considered a problem. Other barrier draws when closely studied changed the team's opinion of this. Sanda Warrior had drawn nineteen, New Zealand stayer, white mare Won-Tolla who lost little ground to Flaxmead once loose in the Cox Plate drew eighteen. Her New Zealand stable mate Roman Rage from a string of wins in Japan in seventeen, Prendergast Blunderbuss drew sixteen and his champion all rounder Brazen Heart drew fifteen. Without going any further it was suggested this bunch could hold Flaxmead wide on a bad day and tip things upside down. Ross introduced Roger and Graham, they allowed the horse whisperer into the parade paddock and Flaxmead was pulled up and went to Palmer straight away.
Jessica was awe struck as the man with a wide cockney accent held Flaxmead's head to his chest, ran his hands all over his flanks and held him check to check. Roger had a brief conversation with Jessica, she found out who he was. She was devastated to hear the only time Roger had seen Flaxmead in a similar mood was after the only time he saw him beaten. He patted the horse then returned to Ross and Graham.
"He wont run well like this, seems his heart broken for some reason," said Roger.
"I knew it," cursed Ross. "I saw this way back, what a fool." it was time to mount and Lindy Cumberland appeared with Stanton in close tow. Flaxmead caught site of her and immediately reared up causing a hell of a scene. She walked straight up to him and he calmed, he lowered his head and she hugged him.
"Is that the Jockey," asked Roger.
"Yes," Replied Graham.
"It's a little girl, no hang on it's a Barbie doll. Her saddle weighs more than she does," he remarked with a look of fear.
"She's sixteen. That's no ordinary wee girl, they call her the pocket rocket. Lindy Cumberland, she'll have you on your back foot in an argument I can tell ya." said Ross. "I've seen that wee lassie operate, don't underestimate her, Flaxmead will meet his match if he plays up."
"I hope ya right governor," replied Roger. "If that horse wins a race at the moment it'll be a miracle."
"We need someone to talk to Lindy," said Ross.
"Hang back," said Graham. "Someone already is." John Stanton smiled at Lindy as he helped her into the saddle with his hands cupped.
"I feel sick Mr Stanton," she whispered down to him from the towering giant.
"You have more courage than I could muster. You have the world on your shoulders, I feel sick myself and I'm not sitting where you are." He widened his smile.
"No one has more courage than you Mr Stanton."
"Sorry love but I can't agree with you. Promise me you won't give up out there. I don't mind taking on a few blokes down the pub love, but I'd have a good think about tackling this lot on the back of that horse, and I'm not scared of horses."
"I'm scared of drunks down the pub Mr Stanton."
"Good, we're both in the right place then. Excuse me I've got to race over to the bar and sort a few people out." Lindy cracked up laughing, Jessica giggled, unhooked the lead rein and Lindy steered the thunderbolt toward the course entry point joining other runners mustering toward the track.
"Thank you Mr Stanton, I promise," shouted Lindy as the pair ambled off.
"Something's wrong Mr Stanton," said Jessica.
Stanton watched the pair amble away with a big sigh. He looked at the ground then back at Jessica. "You don't have to tell me that love," he looked back towards Lindy. "She'll be alright. I've been with her for the last half hour. I think she's a little cannon, she just needs a primer." He looked at Jessica again. "I couldn't find one here, she'll have to find it herself. I wouldn't have let her out there if I thought she couldn't find it."
"I can't watch Mr Stanton, I was just told by his original trainer last time he saw Flaxmead like this he had been beaten," said Jessica.
"Beaten a, you'll watch, they need us more in the next fifteen minutes than any other time in their lives, I know you Jessica Flametower. If you weren't such a strapping young lass you'd jump in her boots quick smart."
"Mr Stanton."
Stanton nodded towards the railing of the paddock. "Those young blokes over their drunk and dressed like idiots, you think they came to the ring here to watch a horse. Look at them waving at ya, you're a woman Jessica, they came to check your arse out. Time you fell in love with people as well as horses." he slapped her on the behind and began to walk away.
"Mr Stanton! How dare you!" The young men at the railing started laughing. Jessica turned on them. "You filthy minded disgusting pigs."
Stanton turned around walked backwards laughing. "You going to watch the race now Jessica?"
Jessica stamped her foot and yelled. "Yes I am and I hope she thrashes the arse of all those males out there!"
Stanton stopped. "The next male to cross Lindy will cop the same treatment; it could be a bloke or a horse. Let's hope it's a horse, things are often not as they seem?"
Jessica stamped both feet and stormed off. Stanton looked at the young men at the rail. "I got one like that, it's all right most of the time. Go and have a go, what are you bloke's man or mouse," Some of them fell over laughing.
Rogers's cockney accent resonated in a whisper. "Who the hells that geezer, a psychiatrist or something?"
"No he's a vigilante, looks after us," replied Ross.
"What, how ya know that then," pouted Roger.
"You have to know these things when you're a trainer ya know man," chuckled Ross. Graham laughed under his breath.
"Hang on I've been had," claimed Roger. "Well let's go see what happens like, all that can be done has been done." They walked towards the finishing post arm around each others shoulders.
Lindy had no struggle with Flaxmead as she ran the gauntlet past the gathered crowd. She felt a distinct change in him and began to focus on the task, well wishers yelled support and adornment. At first she heard some of the words coming from all directions.
"There he is, look at that I don't believe it!"
"We're with you Lindy!"
"Hail the champ!"
"Make it thirty lengths Flaxmead!"
"At last we have the cup!"
"The pocket rocket oi oi oi!"
But she gradually heard less and less of it as her frowning face told the story. Her sick feeling left her as they walked onto the hallowed turf turned east and broke Flaxmead into a canter but he baulked trotting along aimlessly. The few runners leading out behind the pair past them, heading up to the starting gate waiting in the chute. The three thousand two hundred start is half way along the chute to the east of the grandstand, the runners start heading to the west for eight hundred metres along the straight in front of grandstand before the tight turn one. A perfect scenario for Flaxmead, he could hear the crowd nearly all the way, but he trotted along dead in the water.
Lindy had caught site of Anna and Dylan on the rail just as they entered the course, she waved as they trotted off, Anna and Dylan were then taken back to the finishing post to the far western end of the grandstand straight. The site of Anna and Dylan brought to the surface why they were there, her heart beat rate skyrocketed and her eyes filled with rage. A steward mounted on a grey mare trotted along some metres behind Flaxmead, Lindy suddenly pulled Flaxmead up and jumped to the ground the steward pulled up startled and was mesmerised by the spectacle. The crowd fell deadly silent as Lindy went to the front of Flaxmead dropping his reins, the horse lowered his head looking at the turf not wanting to make eye contact. Lindy put her hands on her hips and looked into Flaxmead's eyes. "What the hell do you think you're doing!" she yelled at the top of her voice, it echoed around the grandstand overwhelming silence. She lifted one hand from her hip and pointed towards the float. "I warned you about that bitch ages ago! You don't think I know what's going on here!" She kicked the turf up with her boots as she yelled. "You selfish self centred schmuck!" She wobbled round in a circle shaking her head backwards and forwards. "Oh my girlfriend's not running with me I'm a teapot, I'm a teapot!" Flaxmead grunted still holding his head low giving Lindy the occasional glance then turned away, Lindy ran to his face. "Don't you turn away from me, who the hell do you think you are!" Flaxmead threw his head up and grunted in disapproval. "I came here to ride a warrior and I got a wimp! You little girl, were not in the playground!" Flaxmead shook his head and stomped on the ground with his front hooves. Lindy pointed to the crowd. "Look we're at the bloody Melbourne Cup." She pointed to the finishing line. "Anna and Dylan are waiting up there, god Flaxy!" She feel to the ground with her hands over her face and began to cry. The entire ground held silence dumbfounded by the spectacle, she wept for a while.
The silence was broken by the red jacketed mounted steward talking down to her from the back of his grey mare. "Miss Cumberland, you'll have to mount your ride we are out of time or return to the paddock."
Lindy took down her hands and looked up at him, she couldn't see Flaxmead. "Where's Flaxy?" she mumbled.
"He's standing by the rail Miss Cumberland, I think he sees it easy for you to mount him there."
She looked around getting to her feet and there was Flaxmead standing next to the inside rail, he reared up and the cry of the Banshee ripped through the grandstand. She beamed a smile, "Flaxy," she muttered. She ran to him, her hair came lose and fell down her back, she climbed onto the rail and jumped on his back. The crowd erupted and Flaxmead came to life. He strutted sideways, threw his head, reared up then thundered off towards the starting gate.
Stanton watched from the top of the float with Bob, they stood watch over Meadow and Strom, events of the past had not been forgotten. "One live primer initiated. God that girl reminds me of Jodi when she was that age," said Stanton. "The shows over now for the race."
Roger Palmer was astounded as was his daughter Kalika next to him. "That's a pint size powerhouse, whoever marries that's gonna have a task like," quipped Roger.
"Dad!" replied Kalika. Greg and Susan Cumberland standing in the group at the finishing post broke their fear carved faces and laughed.
"Well well the pot calling the kettle black," replied Roger to his daughter looking daggers at him. "More than one woman around here needing to study geezers instead of horses, you might want to have a chin wag with that vigilante bloke Kalika." The area filled with laughter.
"Dad!" the atmosphere rose to a lighter glory.
The Winston, Bartholomew and Wilson clan crowded around the windows of the members lounge high above the action were calm. "We made sure Lorraine has a television in her room didn't we Winston?" asked Bartholomew.
"Wilson asked me the same thing only minutes ago, yes," replied Winston.
"Who knows, whoever got to Lorraine may have turned the whole thing in our favour. Hindsight, worth nothing in cases like this, things are as they are. What I'm wondering is will Flaxmead tow the line or give us his usual walkover. I think he's awakened a sleeping pint sized giant. I don't think she's finished with him yet."
"Broadway, the West End, Hollywood. You couldn't buy a ticket to a live show like this anywhere on the planet Wilson what," said Bartholomew.
"Absolutely, and it's not over yet," replied Wilson.
Jack Prendergast and Jimmy Cotton sat at their window table surrounded by friends. Looks like the monster may have to do as he's told today Jimmy," said Jack.
"She's such shy reserved little thing, an hour ago she was a weeping mess," commented Jimmy. "I thought it would be all up to the horse."
"The chips are down Jimmy, I never seen anything like it. There's no bigger foe than a women scorned," replied Jack.
"If someone can learn how to drive that thing he'll be around for a while. If he doesn't break till the thousand she's done it," commented Jimmy.
"Mmm, could be Jimmy could be mate."
Flaxmead arrived at the starting gate and began to demoralise the remaining runners that had not loaded into the gates. The starting attendants kept their distance Lindy again flew into a fit of rage sliding to the ground from Flaxmead's back. She pulled his nose to hers with the reins. "Stop it. Get in the gate, hold the pace setter wide and break when I tell you, break when I tell you, break when I tell you, go Flaxy go." She waved the reins in front of his eyes. "This is a steering wheel, when I pull one side or the other like deeer, you're supposed to go that way. Could you see it your way to consider other peoples ideas that happen to be around at the time like me!" Flaxmead groaned and looked away. Lindy pulled his nose back to hers. "Look at me when I'm talking to you, hold the pace setter wide then kick when I ask you. At the exit of turn two for the last thousand if that makes any sense. Your Flaxmead the hunter valley thunderbolt, I know you've got brains as well as brawn. Today, right here, right now we're both going to become responsible adults. Your five soon you can't do it forever." She remembered Stanton's words. "I am not giving up, especially just because some bitch got to you! Now break when I tell you go Flaxy go, kick like you've never kicked before!" Flaxmead nodded his head and grunted. Lindy looked around for help. "Can someone give me a leg up onto this towering nut case!?"
A steward assisted Lindy with cupped hands, she mounted, and Flaxmead shot into gate twenty himself. Lindy leant over to his ears and whispered. "Flaxy, I forgot to tell you, you're the champ and I love you."
An entire nation stopped and another woke, the crowd was poised at every vantage point available around the track, the course commentator handed over to the race caller.
