Chapter Thirty-Four
The next morning after work, Ginny traipsed into the house. A glimpse in the hall mirror of her swollen eyes and lank hair was a fair estimation of how she felt within. The most attractive thought in her head at that precise moment was her bed but would she be able to sleep? Last night, she had thought she couldn’t be any more tired yet she’d tossed and turned until dawn. It was worth another try, she decided numbly.
Sally G was reading in the lounge when she walked through. Putting her book down, she swept over to Ginny and enveloped her in muslin and silk.
‘Oh, darling. I’m so sorry. Come and sit down. Do you want to talk about it?’
Ginny let herself be guided to the sofa, where, still dangerously on the verge of tears, she sat down, pulling her feet up beneath her. Where could she start? She felt as if she’d lost two things dear to her yesterday. The protection of Julien’s arms was replaced by the panic she’d felt when Sequella had hit the ground. Her retreat from his embrace was substituted by the memory of Alex kneeling on the track, shaking his head.
‘It’s awful, Sally G!’ she moaned. ‘I know she was just a horse, but she was so much more than that. She had such a big personality. She seemed to have so much life in her. And then to see her…’ She gazed unseeingly at the carpet, remembering to the smallest pixel of detail, the big black mare, whose coat was still wet and shiny from sweat, lying lifeless on the turf.
‘I know. You’ve been very brave. And I know she wasn’t just a horse to you – to any of you.’
Ginny nodded, thinking of Darragh. He’d lost his best friend.
‘Darragh is beside himself. I don’t know what I can do to help him.’
‘He’s a strong boy, he’ll pick himself up. Don’t you worry. Did you drive back with him?’
‘No. He came back with Alex in the lorry. I had to stay and s-sort out…’ The racecourse officials had referred to Sequella’s body as a carcass when they’d discussed the removal of her. It was such an ugly word, and shouldn’t have been allowed to describe the majestic mare. ‘…sort out things. But when I got back I – I saw Julien and…’ The words died on her lips as she failed to explain the kiss they’d shared. She looked at Sally G helplessly and her landlady nodded in sympathy.
‘Darling, I quite understand why you’ve fallen in love with him.’
Hearing her say it, realisation hit Ginny like a ramming pole and once again she burst into tears.
‘Oh, God, Sally G! I have, haven’t I?’
Sally G held her, rocking her back and forth.
She had completely fallen for him! But it was hopeless, Ginny knew. They were rivals in racing, they could barely remain friends, but each time she was around him, the chemistry between them seemed to explode. He had become such a permanent fixture in her thoughts, that now she wondered why it had taken her so long to recognise what she’d been feeling all along. She felt helpless knowing that she couldn’t deny what she felt anymore, yet there was nowhere for it to progress. She couldn’t let anything happen. How could it not end in ruins? And without a flicker of a doubt, she knew it would be the Dewhurst Stakes where disaster would strike.
‘Does he love you?’ Sally G asked, breaking into her thoughts.
‘I-I don’t know. I think so. No, I don’t know!’ Ginny wailed.
‘I think you’ll find he does,’ Sally G said, handing her a tissue. ‘I’ve seen the way he looks at you.’
Ginny blew her nose noisily.
‘But it couldn’t work. How could it? We both need to win the Dewhurst for the sakes of our stables, but only one can!’
‘The Dewhurst? How do you mean?’
‘If we beat Julien, Silver Sabre will be taken away from Cobalt Lodge. Him and about twenty other horses which belong to that bastard Clinton Cole. Will Julien be able to forgive me if I’ve caused him that much damage?’ She looked at Sally G in anguish. ‘But if we lose, Ravenhill will probably have to close,’ she admitted with a sniff. ‘Where will that leave us? Dad has had the yard for twenty years. It’d destroy him if we have to shut up shop. I can’t do that to him.’ Could she still love Julien if Silver Sabre crushed Ravenhill’s last chance at survival? If she wasn’t sure of herself, Ginny despaired, then what hope could there be for him to love her?
‘Whichever way you lose, you mean?’
‘Yes,’ Ginny said in a small tearful voice. ‘Whether Caspian wins the Dewhurst or not, I’m still going to lose.’
‘Oh, darling,’ Sally G said, wrapping her arms around her again. ‘I had no idea things were so tough at the yard. You’ve been through so much; I wish I could make things better for you.’
‘I know,’ Ginny sighed.
‘Anything can happen though. Don’t they say the easiest race on paper is the one you lose? Well, it works the other way too. Don’t give up hope.’
Chapter Thirty-Five
The following Saturday, in need of a break from the bustle of the yard, Ginny took Caspian out for a quiet hack around the back roads and estates of Newmarket. As they walked along, Caspian’s reins swinging around his neck, she listened to the birds singing and the tolling of a nearby church’s bells. Trying to lighten her mood, the sun was making the odd attempt to break through the crisp white clouds. Her thoughts drifted to the Dewhurst Stakes, to be run in only a fortnight’s time.
It’s all so difficult, she thought with a sigh, trying to win a race, which I’m not even that sure I want to win anymore.
But of course you do, a voice inside Ginny’s head shouted. You only want to lose when you think of Julien. If Julien was removed from the equation then things would be fine! What did she want more – a future for Ravenhill Stables or a future with Julien Larocque? Ginny considered. Well, neither could be guaranteed, but she acknowledged that a future for Ravenhill was the more likely of the two to happen. She tried to laugh at herself. Here she was trying to choose between two loves, when she wasn’t even sure Julien would return it. At least she was certain of Ravenhill’s feelings.
On the way back to the yard, Caspian stopped of his own accord outside Cobalt Lodge. Lifting his head, he whinnied and pricked his ears as a reply echoed back to them from beyond the brick stable wall. The car park was empty. Julien’s car was nowhere to be seen and she felt a pang of loneliness. Squaring her shoulders, she decided there and then that what she was about to do would be the correct decision.
*
Ginny tapped her foot on the worn carpet in the office, holding the telephone to her ear with a clammy hand. The line crackled as it rang and she murmured her impatience. Her foot was interrupted mid-tap as the call was answered.
‘Hi Rijk, it’s Ginny.’
‘Ginny! How’s it going?’
A wry smile teased Ginny’s lips. Did he really want to know?
‘Okay, thanks.’ No, he probably didn’t.
‘I wasn’t expecting a call from you so soon. Have you decided whether or not you’re coming back to us or are you going to stay on Mud Island?’
‘It’s actually quite a nice day today,’ she smiled.
‘Come on, you didn’t call to give me a weather update.’
‘No, you’re right.’ Ginny wound the phone cord around her finger and bit her lip. ‘I know you gave me a couple of weeks to decide but I think I’ve made a definite decision already. I was torn because I’ve loved training in Cape Town with you and I’ve also loved training over here as well. My roots are here but –’ She was interrupted mid-sentence as her mother came stumbling through the office door. Her face was bloodless-white and her eyes wide with panic. ‘Mum? What’s wrong? Are you okay?’
‘J-Jim,’ Beth stammered, her voice quavering. ‘Dad. He needs an ambulance.’
‘Ginny, what’s going on? What’s happening?’
Rijk’s questions barraged her and she shook her head to clear it. A tight ball of fear was contracting in her stomach and she felt the receiver slip in her hand.
‘Sorry, Rijk, I’ve got to go. Someth
ing’s wrong with my dad,’ Ginny babbled. ‘I’ll speak to you soon. I’ve got to go!’ She didn’t wait for a response. She slammed the phone down and dashed over to her mother, who was clutching the doorframe and hyperventilating. ‘Where is he? What happened?’
‘I don’t know,’ Beth cried. ‘I just found him lying there in the bathroom. He couldn’t move.’
‘Have you called an ambulance?’
Beth nodded and gulped.
‘Come on. Where is he now?’
‘He’s still in the bathroom,’ she replied, allowing herself to be pulled out of the office and back to the house by Ginny.
*
‘Dad? Are you okay?’ Ginny said, winging into the bathroom. Her father was slumped against the wall, a fluffy green towel behind his head and his legs splayed on the tiled floor. She could hear his breath rasping through pale lips.
‘Ginny, I’m fine.’
‘You don’t look fine. Can you talk? What happened?’
Jim’s half-closed eyes focussed on her before resting on Beth standing behind Ginny.
‘I’m fine, really. I was just a little tired… a little weak. I’m fine.’
‘Stop saying you’re fine, Jim!’ Beth exclaimed. ‘You’re not!’
‘Shush, Mum. Don’t give him a bollocking,’ Ginny said in a calming voice. ‘An ambulance is on its way. They’ll tell us if you’re fine or not. Where does it hurt?’
Jim made a half-hearted effort to point to his chest but his hand barely lifted an inch.
‘Can’t breathe very well.’
Fear bubbled inside Ginny as her father began to deteriorate before her.
‘Help me, Mum. Let’s lie him flat on his back so he’s not compressing his heart. Can you move, Dad?’
With clumsy manoeuvering, they got Jim on his back. Beth rearranged the towel behind his head.
‘When did you call the ambulance? How long did they say they’d be?’ Ginny asked, loosening Jim’s collar.
‘They said five to ten minutes. Jim, you’ve got to hang on.’
Jim gave a weak smile that hardly moved the crows’ feet at his eyes.
‘That’s it, Dad. They’ll be here in a minute.’ Ginny tried to keep the desperation out of her voice. Jim closed his eyes and she wondered what she should do. Was it better to let him rest or should she try keep him awake? She had no idea. A loud knock on the door made her and Beth jump and she ran to answer it. A fat ambulance was backed up to the front path and three green-uniformed paramedics stood on the doorstep.
‘Thank God. He’s through here. I don’t know what’s happened,’ she said over her shoulder, as she hurried back down the hallway. ‘He had a heart attack a few months back…’
‘Let’s take a look then,’ one lady said and moved Ginny and Beth aside so they could all fit into the bathroom.
*
Ashen, Ginny looked down at the stretcher where her father lay. An oxygen mask was fastened over his nose and mouth. She tripped over one paramedic and bumped into another in her urgency to keep close to him. She watched as Jim was lifted into the open doors of the ambulance and the paramedics all began to settle inside.
‘Can I come with you?’
‘I think your mum would also like to come too. You could follow us in your car?’
‘Yes, of course. You get going though; I don’t want to hold you up. I’ve got to find Dad’s car keys.’ Ginny was speaking more to herself than anyone else as she turned back to the house where her mother was now standing in the doorway, her face distressed and blotchy from tears.
‘Come on, Mum. Where are Dad’s keys? We’re following them,’ Ginny said, trying to act calm and in control.
*
Ginny and Beth scuttled into Cambridge’s A&E through the whooshing automatic doors. They made a bee-line for the reception desk.
‘Hi, we’re family of Jim Kennedy. He’s just been brought in by an ambulance.’
‘If you’d like to take a seat, I’ll see what I can find out. Name please?’
Ginny bit her lip. She didn’t want to sit down. She couldn’t.
‘Kennedy. I’m Virginia Kennedy, his daughter. And my mother, Beth Kennedy.’
The receptionist regarded them with a bored look.
‘Take a seat,’ she repeated, pointing to the waiting area with her pen.
Reluctantly, Ginny and Beth went to sit down amongst the few other anxious and miserable-looking inhabitants.
A couple of minutes later, a nurse appeared from a doorway in the far corner of the room.
‘Mrs Kennedy?’ she requested to the room. Beth and Ginny were on their feet at once and hurried over to her. ‘If you’d like to come through…’
They were led down a long glossy corridor until the nurse stopped outside one room. Inside, they found Jim, propped up in bed, heart and blood pressure monitors beeping in the hushed environment. When they entered, Jim looked up, annoyed.
‘I keep telling them there’s nothing wrong with me. I feel fine! But they won’t believe me!’ he ranted.
‘But you’re not fine!’ Beth exclaimed. ‘You collapsed!’
‘Well, I’m fine now,’ Jim insisted.
‘I might expand on that a little.’ A man, whom Ginny hadn’t at first noticed, stepped forward from some cabinets at the side of the ward. He smoothed out the creases of his green scrubs and gave them a patronising smile. ‘Mr Kennedy has suffered a very minor heart attack.’
‘Another one?’ Beth cried.
‘Yes, but think of it more as an aftershock following an earthquake.’
‘Don’t aftershocks happen right after an earthquake?’ Ginny asked. ‘Dad’s heart attack was months ago.’
The doctor frowned at her for ruining his metaphor.
‘Sometimes there needs to be a trigger. Stress, for instance, is the biggest cause. Would you say that could be it, Mr Kennedy?’
Jim glowered.
‘This is stressing me out.’
‘And since you had this heart attack before coming to the hospital then I’m afraid that’s not a valid answer.’
‘Okay, well, maybe a little then,’ Jim conceded.
The doctor raised one eyebrow.
‘Work is a bit tense at the moment.’
‘Dad!’ Ginny exclaimed. ‘That’s what I’m here for. So you don’t have to stress. Nothing is so bad that it must make you have a heart attack. Really, it isn’t.’ She tried to sound as convincing as she could, desperately ignoring her own worries about the stables.
‘Jim, Ginny’s right. She’s here to take care of the stables. She’s quite capable of handling things. You don’t need to worry about it.’
Ginny smiled at Beth, grateful for her confidence in her.
‘I know, I know she is. Things lately, though, they’ve been impossible to ignore. Mark Rushin. Sequella. Caspian.’
‘Caspian losing a race isn’t the end of the world,’ Ginny reasoned. ‘What happened to Sequella is just bad luck. Mark Rushin – well, he’s out of our lives now. There’s a lot more things to look forward to than there is to stress about.’ Even to Ginny’s ears this statement sounded false.
Jim didn’t look convinced.
‘I know there’s stuff which you don’t tell me about.’
‘Only what you don’t really need to know.’
‘Sometimes I think there is,’ Jim insisted. Ginny could see this line of conversation veering towards her personal stresses and quickly re-routed it.
‘What happens now?’ she asked the doctor.
‘Once we have convinced your father that he really has had a heart attack, then we’ll keep him here for a few days and review his medication, and providing things carry on well, then he should be able to go home. When he does though, might I advise that he doesn’t take on too much work? I believe he isn’t meant to be working at all.’
Ginny could see Jim clenching his teeth in annoyance as the doctor spoke about him as if he wasn’t even there. Ginny also felt offended that he should
think they would be making Jim work against the wishes of the doctors who attended him earlier in the year.
‘Dad doesn’t work at the stables. But they are his business and you can’t expect him not to participate in some ways,’ she said in defence.
‘There’ll be no more days at the races for you!’ Beth said, sounding just like she had done when Ginny was a teenager and her punishment for any mischief would be to miss the races. She half expected her to follow it up with ‘Young man!’ Jim looked just as sulky as Ginny had used to look.
‘Fine, but no one is going to stop me from going to the Dewhurst,’ he said with a stubborn set to his jaw.
‘Let’s see how we’re feeling closer to the time. We wouldn’t want you to overexert yourself,’ said the doctor and everyone, including Beth, glared at his patronising tone.
*
Ginny stayed at Ravenhill House later that afternoon to keep her mother company, having left Jim at the hospital to sleep. They had the television on but neither of them were watching the home makeover programme being shown. Instead, Ginny watched her mother with concern. Beth was twisting a handkerchief around her fingers, and her swollen eyes flitted from the windows to the racing photographs and trophies decorating the walls and cabinets.
‘Mum?’ Ginny ventured. ‘Do you want to talk about it?’
Beth halted her anxious hands.
‘Talk about what?’
‘About Dad. It might make you feel better.’ Ginny wasn’t sure if it would. Neither was she sure how much comfort she could offer her mother but she had to do something.
Beth’s eyes filled with tears.
‘I’m scared, Ginny,’ she said in a small voice.
Ginny got up from her seat and went to sit next to Beth.
‘Me too, Mum. But it’ll be okay, I –’ Ginny hesitated. She couldn’t promise her anything. ‘I’m sure it will be.’
‘Will it?’ Beth asked.
‘Judging by the amount of strife Dad was causing at the hospital, I don’t think he’s thinking of leaving us just yet.’
Beth gave her a pathetic smile.
At Long Odds (A Racing Romance) Page 26