by Cathryn Hein
‘Hey, hey,’ Aaron soothed, carefully approaching. Wet straw stuck to his boots and legs, the smell worsening with each step. ‘It’s okay, boy. It’s okay.’
He touched the horse’s neck. It was wet but not over-hot. He pressed two fingers below Rowdy’s ear to his jawline and felt his pulse, and let out his breath when the beat was regular, albeit fast.
Murmuring calming words, he unbuckled the rug and slid it slowly off Rowdy’s back. Rowdy’s stomach was tucked up, like a dog straining to defecate. Aaron pressed his ear to the belly and listened. It sounded normal, and he began to hope that whatever it was that had caused Rowdy to scour had been purged.
He walked round the horse, checking for any injuries he might have given himself fighting off the pain. Rowdy’s right knee was swollen and a light scab had formed on a graze where he’d probably knocked it, but that appeared to be the only damage.
Aaron checked the water bucket. It was almost empty. He carried it toward the horse and let him drink, stroking his neck as he sucked down the last of the water. Dehydration was a risk, but Rowdy was drinking, and it appeared the real danger had already passed. The horse would need to be carefully nursed, but if Aaron was correct in his diagnosis, a vet wasn’t necessary. Thankfully. A vet would ask questions.
As he walked to the tack room to fetch Rowdy’s halter and lead, his mood darkened. He mightn’t know exactly what had been used, but he knew Rowdy had been dosed with something. All he could do was pray it had been something mild, a mineral oil like paraffin or perhaps an off-the-shelf laxative. Something from which Rowdy would recover quickly.
He burned with anger. A doping scandal was the last thing he needed. If word got out, it could mean the end of everything he’d worked so hard for. Goodbye new owner, goodbye trainer’s licence, goodbye Hakea Lodge. He’d have to lie when he phoned in the scratching. Tell them Rowdy had come down with colic, or hadn’t shaken the cold he’d had all week. Anything to avoid an enquiry. Hakea Lodge had seen enough of those.
And then he’d have to deal with Sophie.
Rowdy was so miserable he accepted Aaron’s ministrations without protest. He stood forlornly at the foot of Hakea Lodge’s back steps while Aaron washed his hind legs and tail with warm, soapy water. He didn’t even move when Aaron stuck a thermometer up his backside. The reading, much to Aaron’s relief, was normal. The worst was over.
He was rubbing Rowdy down with towels when Danny turned up. The jockey sauntered over with his hands in his pockets and a raised eyebrow.
‘What’s up?’ he said, putting his hand on the horse’s rump. Rowdy’s head went up, and he shuffled nervously until Danny took his hand away.
Aaron glanced at him, and went back to his rubbing. ‘He’s been doped.’
Danny whistled. ‘How do you know?’
‘I just know.’
‘Yeah,’ said Danny. ‘You would.’
Aaron clenched his jaw and breathed through his nose, trying to keep his boiling temper from exploding.
Danny lit a cigarette. ‘He all right?’
‘He won’t be racing, if that’s what you mean.’
Smoke curled around Danny’s head in spirals. ‘Shame.’ He picked a piece of tobacco off his tongue and inspected it. ‘I’m sorry boss, but I got to tell you something. Don’t think you’re going to like it, but.’
Aaron eyed him, but remained silent. He threw the towel on the step and picked up a soft-bristled body brush.
‘I heard word around the traps that someone might have a go at the big fella here, so I thought it best to hang around last night. You know, guard him.’
‘Didnt do much of a job then, did you?’
Danny shrugged. ‘Couldn’t help it. Fell asleep on the job. But I got to tell you, young Sophie was here.’
Aaron stared at him.
‘Yep. She turned up about midnight. Saw her go into the big fella’s box. Fed him something by the sound of it.’
Aaron’s jaw began to ache from the pressure he was putting on it. With an effort, he forced himself to relax, breathing slowly through his mouth. It didn’t help.
‘She never wanted him to run, did she?’ said Danny.
Aaron continued brushing.
‘Too afraid he’d get hurt. Mind you, Springbank has a shit reputation. Can’t blame her, I guess.’ Danny flicked his butt into the yard. ‘I didn’t hear nothing else after she left.’
Aaron ran the brush through Rowdy’s tail. ‘The feeds are made up. I haven’t had a chance to get them out. When you’ve done that, you can start on the yards.’
Danny looked at him, his hands in his pockets, his lips pursed, but then he nodded and wandered off. When he’d disappeared into the feed room, Aaron pressed his forehead against Rowdy’s rump.
‘I’m sorry, Rowdy,’ he whispered. ’I should have known.’
In the end, he was glad when Sophie arrived early. He didn’t think he could stand another second of Danny’s smug company. At least Rowdy looked a little better, a bit more alive.
The horse lifted his head and whickered at Sophie when she got out of the Range Rover. She had a puzzled look on her face, as if she knew something was wrong but couldn’t quite fathom what. Then her mouth parted and her eyes widened, and she strode over to Rowdy and held his head between her hands, tears turning her eyes bright.
Aaron leaned on the rake and watched her from the stable door. She kept stroking Rowdy’s face, her lips moving as she spoke softly to him, her eyes scanning his coat. It was clean, but the shine that had made him seem so powerful, so magnificent, was gone.
Aaron dropped the rake onto the pile of soiled bedding and walked over to her. She gazed at him with huge liquid eyes and he felt sick with what he was about to do.
‘Have you called the vet?’ she asked, her voice cracked with worry.
‘No.’
‘Why not? He’s sick. Cant you see that?’
He ignored the question. ‘Did you come here last night?’
She looked at him as though he’d gone mad. ‘What?’
‘Did you come here last night?’
‘Yes, but what’s that got to do with anything?’
‘Did you give him anything?’
Her brow scrunched in bafflement. ‘Huh?’
‘It’s a simple question, Sophie. When you were here last night, did you feed Rowdy anything?’
‘Some apples but —’ She stopped, staring at him.
Aaron looked toward the yards. Danny had a wire pooper-scooper in his hand and was eyeing them from behind Pollyester Girl’s fence. He dropped the scoop, ducked under the rail and began walking toward them. Aaron turned back to Sophie.
‘Go home,’ he said. ‘Rowdy won’t be racing. He’s been scratched.’
Sophie peered at Danny, frowned, and then looked back at Aaron. ‘What’s going on?’
‘Just do as I say and go home.’
‘No! Not until you tell me what’s going on.’
Rowdy lifted his head at the shrillness in her voice, pulling at his lead.
‘What’s it look like?’ yelled Danny. ‘He’s been doped, hasn’t he? But you already knew that.’
‘What?’
Aaron closed his eyes and prayed for strength.
Not far from Sophie, Danny halted. He glanced at Aaron, as if checking whether he was too close. Apparently satisfied, he crossed his arms. ‘You heard me. Old Danny-boy’s not a fool. You were here last night, I saw you. What did you give him?’
Sophie turned her pale face toward Aaron. ‘Oh, my God, Aaron. You can’t think … you can’t possibly believe …’ She grabbed his sleeve and tugged at it. ‘I wouldn’t, you know I wouldn’t.’
Danny pulled a packet of cigarettes from his shirt pocket and flipped the top. ‘You never wanted him to run. Scared he’d fall, weren’t you?’ He extracted a cigarette, put it in his mouth and dug around in his pocket for a lighter.
Sophie snatched the cigarette from his mouth and ground it into the dirt. ‘Now you
listen to me, you piece of —’
Pressing his palm to her back, Aaron tried to guide her toward the Range Rover. ‘I said leave.’
Sophie jerked away and stared at him in shock, and then her face crumbled. She tilted her head, her mouth wobbling. Tears welled, spilling over her eyelids and sliding down her face.
‘Can’t you see what he’s doing?’ She pointed at Danny. Aaron didn’t need to look at him to know that he was smirking. ‘He did it. He poisoned Rowdy. He was here last night. I smelt him. He did it!’
Ducking around him, she ran at Danny. Aaron swore and grabbed her from behind, pinning her arms to her side. She kicked and spat, wrenching against his hold. She was so strong he was afraid he’d hurt her with his grip, but he had to stop her from attacking Danny. The jockey wouldn’t think twice about fighting back.
Frightened by the commotion, Rowdy pulled back on his lead, his eyes rolling. The clip attaching the rope to his halter snapped. He cantered off toward the lunging ring.
‘Christ! Go get the bloody horse while I deal with her,’ snarled Aaron.
Danny tapped out a fresh cigarette and coolly lit it before wandering off to do as he was told. Sophie continued to strain against Aaron’s grasp.
‘Don’t you touch him, you bastard!’
‘Sophie, listen to me.’
‘Let me go!’
‘For once in your life, please, just bloody well listen!’
She stopped struggling. Aaron kept hold of her, afraid to let her go. He could feel her heaving as she drew in gulps of air. He let her settle for a second, then released her, prepared to grab her again if he needed to.
‘You need to go home. Right now. No more arguing. Just go.’
She turned to face him. Her cheeks and neck were wet and flushed, her big grey eyes wide and tear-filled. She looked at him with heartbreaking hurt.
‘I was wrong. Seems I’m always wrong about people. I’ve been wrong all my life. You don’t love me at all.’
Out of the corner of his eye, Aaron could see Danny leading Rowdy back towards them. ‘Go,’ he ordered.
Suddenly, her hunched shoulders straightened and she turned to him, her eyes narrowed and her mouth hard. It had started, the metamorphosis of love into hate, but there’d be plenty of time to mourn its loss later.
Her voice shook, but it was full of fight, full of the tough, strong Sophie he loved. ‘I’m going home to get the float and then I’m coming back for my horse.’
‘I don’t care what you do,’ he said, glancing at Danny again, ‘just as long as you get the hell out of here now.’
She gave him one last look and opened the car door. Aaron watched her buckle herself in and start the engine. As she reached for the gearstick, she stopped and wound down the window.
‘I hope you’re happy, Aaron. You’ve got what you wanted.’
He waited until the Range Rover swung on to the road before turning back to Danny. He eyed him, but decided he could wait a moment longer. He took hold of Rowdy and led him to Costa Motza’s empty yard. The horse kept looking up the lane as though wondering why Sophie had left him so soon. Aaron locked him in the yard and then walked back to the stable. Danny was lounging against the wall.
‘Are all the feeds done?’
‘Yes, boss.’
‘The yards?’
Danny shrugged. ‘Not quite, but I’ll get there.’ He indicated the drive with his chin. ‘Sneaky, just like her old man, hey? Who’d have thought young Sophie had it in her.’ He shook his head. ‘Still, you never could trust a Dixon, could you?’
Aaron glanced up the drive to satisfy himself Sophie hadn’t decided to turn around and come back, and then let his carefully controlled temper explode. He grabbed Danny by the throat and slammed him against the stable wall. The jockey’s head cracked against the timber and he cried out. Aaron wouldn’t have heard him even if he was listening. All he could hear was the whoosh of his rage as it burst.
He slammed him against the wall again. ‘You bastard! You dirty little fucked-up piece of shit!’
Danny gasped for air.
Aaron squeezed harder. ‘I ought to strangle you, you prick. How fucking dare you!’
Danny’s eyes widened. From his open mouth came a choked gurgle.
‘How dare you try to lay the blame on Sophie. It was you all along, you filthy bastard.’
Danny’s legs hammered against the wall, his fingers scrabbled at the hand Aaron held around his throat. He let out a strangled cry his nails tearing into Aaron’s skin.
Aaron blinked and let go. Danny fell to the ground. He crawled on his hands and knees, gasping and trying to get away. Aaron watched him as though he were a particularly nasty insect he wanted to squash.
‘What did you give him?’
Danny coughed, but didn’t answer. Aaron kicked him in the stomach, not hard, but hard enough to give him a fright and flip him over. ‘I asked you a question.’
‘Milk of magnesia,’ Danny spluttered, turning back onto his knees and trying to stand.
Aaron flipped him over again so he could look at him. He wanted to kick him, but didn’t trust himself enough to pull it this time. Instead, he put his boot on Danny’s face and pressed. Danny yelled and wriggled. He pushed down a little harder, wondering how much more pressure it would take until he heard the satisfying crack of Danny’s nose breaking.
This confrontation had been so long coming he was almost revelling in it. This is what he hadn’t wanted Sophie to see, the animal in him, the black void of his festering resentment, his ugly, primal need for revenge. He’d had to hurt her to get her away, but he felt as though he’d had no choice. He needed to know she was safe, that Danny couldn’t retaliate by attacking her.
But most of all, he didn’t want Sophie to see the truth. That he could beat a man half his size, half his weight. Kick him while he lay helpless, and enjoy it.
He pulled his boot away from Danny’s face. ‘Just in case you’re too thick to figure it out for yourself, you’re fired. I want you out of the flat by tomorrow night. And don’t even think about testing my patience, Danny, because I’m in no mood to show restraint.’
Danny rubbed at his nose and then inspected the streak of blood smeared across the back of his hand. ‘You broke my nose.’
‘It’s not broken.’
‘Bloody is!’
‘Trust me, if I’d have wanted to break it, I would have. Get up.’
Danny looked at him warily then slowly stood, sniffing at the trickle of blood dribbling from his left nostril. ‘You can’t sack me.’
‘I just did.’
Danny pointed at Rowdy. ‘And how’re you going to explain him to the stewards?’
Aaron recycled the excuse he’d used when he’d phoned in the scratching. ‘Nothing to explain. Horse looks fine, except his knee’s a bit sore where he knocked it yesterday in the float.’ He slid a look at Danny. ‘Such a pity it didn’t come good in time for the race.’
Danny glared at him. Aaron shrugged and headed for the house. He needed a drink, something – anything – to wash the foul taste of self-disgust from his mouth.
But Danny wasn’t finished.
‘You want to play dirty? Well, I know all about how to do that. How ‘bout I start with young Sophie?’
Aaron stopped.
‘Yeah, thought that might get your attention.’
‘You so much as breathe near her and the next time you feel my hand around your throat will be the last time you feel anything.’
Danny smiled. ‘Oh, I wouldn’t hurt a hair on her pretty little head. Nope, not a hair. I don’t hurt women, you know that. But I sure like to talk to them. And I bet Sophie would just love to hear all about what you got up to when you were a lad. I’m sure she’d be very interested in the time you gave —’ He snapped his fingers, trying to remember. ‘Damn, what was that horse’s name again? No, don’t tell me, it’ll come. Golddust, that’s it. Yeah, the time you gave Golddust a good old dose of Danthron. Damn
thing shat through the eye of a needle for a week. Got your dose wrong, didn’t you? But they were early days, hey. And I’ve got to give it to you, you learned fast.’
‘Shut up.’
Danny’s eyes narrowed. ‘Your old mum came to the rescue that time, didn’t she? Told your old man she’d accidentally poisoned it with some kitchen scraps.’ He took a drag and blew out a puff of smoke. ‘But she made sure you didn’t screw up again. Your poor old man didn’t know what the hell was going on that autumn. One minute his horses would be running like they’d had pepper shoved up their arses, and the next they couldn’t outrun a donkey.’
‘I said, shut up.’
Danny tapped his nose. ‘But old Danny-boy knew. Old Danny-boy was watching.’
Aaron took a step toward him.
The smile on Danny’s face dropped. ‘I wouldn’t,’ he said. ‘I can still go to the stewards.’
It was Aaron’s turn to smile. He didn’t give a shit any more. Danny could do his worst. He’d already lost the thing that mattered to him most.
‘Go right ahead. After this morning, I’m beyond caring.’
Danny glared at him. ‘You don’t mean that.’
‘Actually, I do.’ And to Aaron’s surprise it was the truth. Danny blabbing would cost him his trainer’s licence, but he could always find a normal job, maybe join Josh in the forestry industry, or work as a labourer somewhere. He had to pay for his past and this, like Sophie, was the price. ‘Face it, Danny. Blackmail isn’t going to work any more. So why don’t you just get off my property before I throw you off.’ He turned towards the house.
‘This is my home,’ yelled Danny. ‘I belong here. The old man made me a promise. I tell no one what you did and I get to stay here even when I can’t ride no more. I kept my part of the deal, you can’t break it!’
Aaron stood on the top step, hands on hips, regarding him. He’d always wondered why his father had kept Danny on. Now he knew.
‘Well, you’re shit out of luck. I’m not my father. I can break any promise I like. Now fuck off.’
For a moment, Aaron thought Danny wasn’t going to leave, but then the jockey swore and stomped off to grab his motorbike. He revved and snaked it through the yard, throwing stones and dirt and frightening the horses, before skidding out of the yard and down the drive.