by Jilly Cooper
‘Little pet came out with his ears pricked,’ sighed Gee Gee.
Having popped in with Etta to congratulate everyone, Taggie said she had better get home to relieve Jan who’d been holding the fort for so long. As Rupert, not Etta’s greatest fan, was away, Taggie wondered whether to ask her to supper. She felt guilty that, without realizing it, she’d done her face and slapped on some Issey Florale in anticipation of seeing Jan. And there he was, in a new speedwell-blue denim shirt, a huge happy smile spreading across his face as he took both her hands.
‘It’s so great to see you, mam, we’ve all missed you so much.’
Taggie blushed and stammered it was lovely to be back and removed one hand because Etta was behind her.
‘Congratulations, Mrs Edwards. You must have heard our cheers in Newmarket when Quickly won.’
‘I was wondering, if it’s not too much trouble, if Mrs Edwards could stay for supper?’
‘Nothing’s too much trouble. I’ve taken your bags upstairs. I’ll get Mrs Edwards a drink.’
‘Granny, Granny,’ Sapphire hurtled in. ‘Did you bring me a present?’
‘I did.’ Taggie got a red parcel out of her bag.
‘What do you say?’ demanded Jan.
‘Open it,’ ordered Sapphire.
Then as Etta and Taggie smiled, Jan snapped, ‘Don’t be so rude. Where are your manners, young lady? Say sorry and thank you. At once!’
For a second Sapphire looked mutinous, then mumbled, ‘Sorry and thank you,’ and fled.
‘Bedtime,’ Jan shouted after her, ‘and your own bed tonight. She was missing you, mam, and a bit lonely and she loves your old bear, so I let her sleep in your bed last night, but I’ve changed the sheets.’ That’s where I’d like to sleep, said his eyes.
‘You are wonderful.’ Taggie tried to ignore the message. ‘I must get out of these boots.’
Going into her bedroom, Taggie gave a cry of delight, for propped up in a blue and white striped armchair was a beautifully framed photograph of Love Rat, with his huge dark eyes peering out of a gleaming blond mane, noble head raised like a creature of fable. Forester, lying on the bed, eyeing up Taggie’s bear, thwacked his tail.
Kicking off her boots, Taggie ran down the passage and found Jan reading Sapphire a story: ‘“And Good Dog Tray is happy now, he has no time to say Bow Wow!”’
‘Oh Jan, it’s genius. How did you get Love Rat to pose like that?’
‘It took a bit of time, mam, getting him out in the sun with his hair tidy. You can’t get horses to say “cheese”, I suppose they say “feed”. But I think he looks every inch a Leading Sire.’
‘It’s beyond beautiful. Rupert’ll be knocked out.’
For a moment Jan looked vulnerable. ‘I’d like him to like it, mam. I know he finds me a nuisance round the place.’
‘Of course he doesn’t,’ blustered Taggie. ‘He’s been under a lot of pressure recently, everything getting on his nerves, but this weekend’s changed all that. Funny how it all happened when he wasn’t wearing his lucky shirt. He’ll probably never take off that green gingham he was forced to buy. Honestly, he doesn’t think you’re a nuisance. Goodness, that picture of Love Rat is beautiful, thank you so much.’
As she went downstairs, she thought how tidy the place looked after an invasion of grandchildren laying waste to it. No half-eaten apples in all the chairs or half-drunk glasses of Ribena or all the televisions locked into some game or strange DVD.
She found Etta on the terrace rhapsodizing over the beauty of the Cotswold spring with wild garlic flowers starring the woodland floor, white cherry blossom, greening cow parsley, and the soapy smell of hawthorn sweeping down the valley.
‘Aren’t we lucky to live here?’ said Etta.
‘Look what Jan’s done.’ Taggie held out the photograph of Love Rat.
‘Oh,’ gasped Etta, ‘that is amazing! How could Mrs Wilkinson not have fallen in love with him?’
Down at the yard, however, they were not such fans of Jan.
‘He was a bloody nuisance spending hours taking Love Rat’s picture,’ grumbled Pat to a returning Cathal. ‘Used it as an excuse to hang around photographing everything.’
‘And he was evidently in and out of Geraldine’s office and Rupert and Taggie’s bedroom all weekend,’ added Walter Walter. ‘Claims to know all about nature, but he’s not so good on birds.’
‘That figures. The guy’s supposed to be gay,’ said Cathal.
‘No, bird birds. “Hello, Robin Redbreast”, he said, pointing his camera at a bloody bullfinch.’
48
Rupert returned euphoric from Hong Kong and, blown away by Love Rat’s picture, insisted Dora use it for a full-page ad in Owner & Breeder, with the copy: ‘The most beautiful stallion in the world.’
He then set Purrpuss among the pigeons, announcing that Bao Tong would be arriving from Beijing in ten days’ time to work in stud and yard with a view to starting up a similar organization in China. To begin with, Bao would be staying in the house. Everyone must make him very welcome.
After the slaughter of Ben and everything she loved, however, Gala was absolutely appalled.
‘If any Chinese move in here, I’m off,’ she stormed to Young Eddie.
Nor was she the only person to be horrified.
‘It’s madness,’ raged Etta, who’d just read a piece in the Mail about China enslaving the world. ‘The symbol of China is a circle with one dot inside it on the right and one word saying When? i.e. when they take over the world. They own more than eight per cent in Thames Water and are taking major stakes in the English nuclear power industry.’
‘So they can nuke us,’ agreed Dora furiously. ‘There’s only one equine hospital in the whole of China. And they eat dogs and ram them in cages and they skin rabbits alive – you can hear them screaming – and rich Chinese offer powdered rhino horn at parties.’
‘They’re planning to start racing over there,’ said Taggie. ‘Valent and Rupert have been investigating.’
‘Hundreds of thoroughbreds from the West went to Beijing when the government appeared to be going to OK racing. And when they didn’t,’ Dora said grimly, ‘all the horses were slaughtered. Charming.’
‘How awful,’ cried Taggie.
‘And they recently burnt one thousand dogs alive just to feed people at some festival.’
‘They’ll be eating people soon,’ said an aghast Taggie.
‘Well, as long as they eat the North Koreans,’ said Dora.
As a result, when Bao landed on a beautiful mild May evening, Dora, Gala, Etta and a hovering Taggie picketed the helipad with anti-dog-eating placards and posters condemning brutality to rabbits, rhinos and horses. Bao, after a very long flight, didn’t realize the significance of the protest, as Dora waved a Don’t Dine on Dogs banner in his face.
‘Get up on Quickly, then cough loudly,’ she harangued him, ‘and you’ll be back in Beijing in a flash.’
‘Hands off our horses!’ cried Etta, waving a poster of a sobbing elephant.
‘You’re not welcome, murderer,’ shouted Gala.
Valent and Rupert were absolutely furious and, jumping from the helicopter, grabbed placards and posters.
‘Bloody childish behaviour! What in hell are you playing at, scuppering a deal we’ve been working on for months?’ roared Rupert.
Valent meanwhile was busy explaining to Bao in broken Chinese that it was a tradition in England for the women of the house to wave banners of welcome, then turned on Etta, bawling her out in language she’d never heard from him before.
‘Don’t you realize,’ Rupert hissed at Gala and Dora, ‘as part of the bargain, Genghis Tong, Bao’s father, is giving us a small plane so we can get Quickly used to flying.’
‘Quickly’s got wings already,’ protested Dora.
‘Don’t be fatuous, and you should bloody well know better,’ he yelled at Taggie. ‘Go and be a fucking hostess and welcome him.’
This task, howeve
r, was taken over by a beaming Jan, driving a quad bike down to the helipad for Bao’s very expensive luggage. He then took the bewildered visitor’s hands.
‘Welcome to Penscombe, Bao. I know you’ll be as happy here as I am.’
‘Thank Christ someone knows how to behave,’ observed Rupert, as Bao bowed and smiled. ‘Go back and show him to his room,’ he ordered Taggie.
Dora, Taggie, Etta, even Gala felt rather foolish when Bao turned out to be the most delightful boy with wonderful manners. He was also very good-looking, arriving in a beautifully cut navy-blue suit and white silk shirt, hardly creased from the journey. His kind eyes and excellent teeth were emphasized by a mouth that never stopped smiling.
The dogs had been held back from running on to the helipad, ‘in case Bao’s feeling peckish,’ Gala observed sourly. But as they greeted him in the house, he crouched down to pat them in delight.
‘Here is Labrador black and hound grey, Russells Jack, Bull Staffordshire, what wonderful dogs. My mother has Poodle Standard. We love him,’ he told Taggie.
‘For dinner,’ hissed Dora.
‘Shurrup,’ hissed back Rupert, as Taggie took Bao up to his room. ‘If you can’t learn to behave, get out.’
Dora and Gala were about to, when Jan whisked out of the kitchen with a bottle of Bollinger and glasses, so everyone flocked into the drawing room.
When Bao came down, expressing pleasure over the Stubbs mares and foals and the Turner sunrise opposite the fireplace, he produced a pile of presents beautifully wrapped: Longines watches for Rupert and Valent, Hermes silk scarves for Taggie and Etta, and two extra unwrapped bottles of scent for Dora and Gala. He then produced a picture of his mother’s Poodle on his smartphone.
‘We love him,’ repeated Bao, patting Banquo.
Glancing warningly at Dora, Rupert raised his glass. ‘Welcome to Penscombe, Bao.’
‘What does Bao mean?’ asked a thawing Etta.
‘It mean leopard.’
‘Then you are our fourth leopard,’ teased Taggie, who’d already put her shocking-pink scarf round her neck. ‘This is so lovely.’
‘Perhaps you’ll win the St Leger for Rupert,’ suggested Dora, melting slightly.
‘Dinner will be ready in a minute,’ said Taggie, ‘if you’re not too tired.’
‘No, I am hungry very, but could I first say hello to Bertie Beijing?’
‘Gala will take you,’ said Rupert, adding softly, ‘unless you want to be fired.’
Furious, ostentatiously leaving her bottle of scent behind, Gala took Bao out to a field by the lake. She then had to listen to his rapture, both at Penscombe’s greenness, gilded by the setting sun, and at seeing Beijing Bertie again. The white-faced bay, who was already benefiting from the lush grass, was in turn delighted with a whole packet of Polos.
Bao bowed and shook hands with Gala when she returned him to the house, where he was hugely appreciative of roast lamb and potatoes, celeriac purée and the first asparagus from the garden, but clearly trying to keep awake over raspberries and cream. A completely won-over Taggie escorted him to his room where again he bowed and shook her hand.
‘I am happy very to be here.’
When she came back ten minutes later to check he was OK, he had fallen asleep, with an English phrasebook in his hand and the light left on. He looked so sweet, she was tempted to tuck him in and drop a kiss on his forehead.
Over the next week while Jan was out with Old Eddie, Taggie talked a lot to Bao.
He was an only child, he confided, because China had a one-child policy and it was his great regret that his parents had given his younger sister up for adoption in England. It had broken his mother’s heart, and probably, he felt, his parents’ marriage. He would like to try and find his sister.
‘I promise you she’ll be loved.’ Taggie showed him photographs of Xav and Bianca. ‘We went halfway across the world to adopt them.’
Bao was also pleased that British and Chinese racing were getting together.
‘It is my father’s dream that Beijing Bertie win at Loyal Ascot. It is Year of the Snake, so Campbell-Black Rupert and my father both ambitious snakes should have successful year.’
‘What sign am I?’ asked Taggie.
‘You are good-hearted Pig.’
As an only child, Bao had been very strictly brought up and was a very hard worker, constantly asking stable staff what he could do to help. He didn’t mind mucking out, or being bucked off, and laughed when the forklift truck which threw bedding into each stable covered him in straw. Consequently, he fitted in perfectly, particularly as he was extremely generous and always buying rounds for everyone at the Dog and Trumpet. He also listened, whenever possible, to classical music, was a wizard technologically, and could sort out anyone’s computer problems.
Above all, he loved the Gloucestershire countryside. ‘It is so clear here. In Beijing you look up weather on App. She say, “wear mask”. And we have no birds left.’
His favourite pastime was to sit on the terrace in the evening listening to the nightingales and blackbirds and trying to identify stars he couldn’t see in Beijing.
It was interesting, observed the yard, that while Taggie’s fondness for Jan irritated the tits off Rupert, he didn’t appear to mind her doting on Bao.
One morning Dora and Gala came into the house on their break to take the dogs out and found a wagging Gropius chewing up Taggie’s blue teddy bear, Eamonn, all over the hall carpet.
‘Oh my God,’ screamed Gala.
As Bao came running downstairs, Jan came out of the kitchen and flipped, kicking Gropius really hard in the ribs then hitting him back and forth across the head before grabbing his jaws to ease his Bull Terrier grip on the bear.
‘Don’t hurt him,’ screamed Gala, as Gropius howled and yelped.
‘Leave him alone,’ yelled Dora, ‘you horrible great brute. He’s a puppy, it’s only a bear.’
‘It’s Taggie’s bear,’ yelled back Jan, aiming another kick at Gropius. ‘Taggie’s special bear.’
‘Look, here’s its eye,’ cried Dora.
‘Give it to me,’ snarled Jan.
But Bao, too quick for him, had picked it up. ‘This isn’t an eye.’
‘Course it is.’ Jan snatched it away from him. ‘I’ll get the whole thing mended – Taggie would be heartbroken,’ and he bore bear and remains off upstairs.
That’s not an eye, it’s a bug or a camera, reflected Bao, whose English was a great deal better than he made out.
Gathering up Gropius and Cadbury, Dora and Gala retreated to the garden.
‘Are you thinking what I’m thinking?’ asked Dora. ‘Must be bats about Taggie to overreact like that.’
‘D’you think he’s pretending to be gay with all that Mary Berry chat to fool Rupert, or rather to appease him?’
‘Not much appeasement,’ said Gala. ‘Rupert can’t stand him; it was as much as he could do to be nice about Love Rat’s photo, which is stunning, admittedly.’
‘If he’s gay, perhaps he’s after Rupert.’
‘No more Mr Nice Gay, I’ll never forgive him for beating up Gropius.’
‘I wonder if Jan’s a journalist,’ mused Dora. ‘He’s always taking pictures. He never gives pens back and is looking at newspapers online, even when he’s cooking.’
The following week, screaming was heard from upstairs. Taggie, who was petrified of snakes, had discovered one writhing around in Rupert’s dressing room. She was very impressed when Jan picked it up and deposited it in the long grass by the lake.
‘I love snakes,’ he admitted on his return. ‘That was only a little adder. I kept snakes as pets when I was a child. I used to feed them on live mice which I bred myself.’
‘That is gross,’ said Dora in horror.
‘But good omen for Campbell-Black Rupert, born in Year of Snake,’ said Bao.
‘And even better news for him: Gav’ll be back soon,’ said Dora.
49
The King was
back; his horses were flying, winning races all over the world. Quickly had left the rest of the field for dead in the most challenging of Derby trials, the Dante. As the Derby itself approached, the gurus of racing dissected the colt’s pedigree. Would he have the stamina, the temperament, to cope with the one mile four furlongs? And, watching endless replays of the Guineas and the Dante, wondered if he could possibly be beaten.
Eddie, as his jockey, was extensively interviewed and, emerging as James Blond, the new poster boy, was attracting fanmail and hordes of young to the racetrack. Jan had taken a stunning photograph of him, wearing Etta’s Master Quickly baseball cap on one side. Wasted down to nine stone, he was too thin to strip to the waist, but Jan’s borrowed denim shirt brought out the blue of his wicked, laughing eyes.
‘Gerry’s been sending out hundreds to fans,’ said Jan proudly.
‘She’s called Geraldine, and next time get him to put that cap on straight,’ snapped Rupert, who was fed up with Jan invading his office.
As the Derby approached, Rupert grew increasingly uptight. So much was at stake, not just the second rung of the Triple Crown, but the million-pound prize money would put the Leading Sire title within Love Rat’s reach. As a result, he was biting everyone’s heads off, including Taggie’s.
By contrast Jan was sweetness itself, finding a lovely purple silk rose to jazz up Taggie’s last year’s hat, delving into her wardrobe to discover and press a pale-pink blazer, in case the weather went cold. He had also polished Rupert’s black top hat with a handkerchief dipped in Guinness to give it a special shine. This tip he’d learned from Old Eddie, who’d always loved going to the Derby in the White’s Club bus.
On Derby Day, Taggie stole down the back stairs into the kitchen in her purple dress, lilac hat and pink blazer, so Jan could see how good she looked.
‘Oh wow, mam, you are a knockout,’ gasped Jan.
‘I wanted to creep out of the house without poor Old Eddie seeing me.’