Keeping the Peace

by Hannah Hooton

  Pippa shook her head and gave her a reassuring smile.

  ‘No, you’re right. Finn’s just a friend.’ She hesitated. ‘But I just got the impression that he’s not being entirely straight with me. Or with her for that matter. Today wasn’t the first time he’s tried to kiss me –’

  ‘Who’s been trying to kiss you?’ Jack interrupted, placing three drinks down on the table.

  ‘Oh – um, er –’ Pippa gawped like a goldfish.

  ‘Finn,’ Tash supplied helpfully.

  Pippa bared her teeth at her.

  ‘What?’ Jack gave her a stern look. ‘I thought you told me you and him weren’t seeing each other.’

  ‘I wasn’t. I mean, I’m not.’ In a panic to clear her name, she thrust the magazine towards him. ‘Look, I’m not the one Finn’s dating. She is.’

  Jack frowned at the article and Pippa realised she’d probably done the wrong thing. He looked up, puzzled.

  ‘Skylark?’ he said.

  Pippa nodded reluctantly.

  ‘I’m sure it’s just a coincidence,’ she said. ‘They’re both Irish and both live in the same part of England now. It’d make sense, I guess. A little taste of home and all that.’

  Jack folded the magazine closed with a slow nodding of his head. After a pause, he even managed a grim smile.

  ‘You’re right. Finn’s smarter than he lets on,’ he said. He picked up his drink and held it aloft. ‘But more importantly, here’s to Peace Offering breaking his duck.’

  ‘To Peace Offering,’ she and Tash echoed.

  Pippa sipped her drink and returned his smile, still warily observing the darkening shades of his eyes.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  With the onset of Cheltenham’s four day festival, Pippa had little time to dwell on Peace Offering’s future. Even her tumultuous feelings towards Jack took a backseat as she struggled to keep abreast with the action. Jack, when he wasn’t at the Festival or doing previews and interviews for the racing press, was distant when he did make an appearance. Pippa had persuaded him to set up a television in Reception and by Friday lunchtime, alongside the stable staff, had celebrated Dexter’s success in the Supreme Novices’ Hurdle and Silver Dollar taking the spoils in the Festival Trophy Chase.

  She was aware of great tension in the yard come the final day of the big meeting as everyone’s thoughts centred on Virtuoso’s bid to retain his Gold Cup crown. Despite not having known Virtuoso existed before a few months ago, she felt herself caught up in their anxiety and excitement. She’d learnt that being a Gold Cup hero was the highest accolade in National Hunt racing; to win it again deserved reverence of the highest order.

  Through the window she watched the staff hurrying around the yard, trying to finish their duties before they could all squash into the office for the afternoon’s racing.

  The grimy pairs of boots mounted up by the doorway as they all converged and Pippa, seeing a pallid-faced Emmie walk in with Billy, pulled up a chair for her to sit on. The first race of the day, the Champion Hurdle, was watched in sombre silence, a stark comparison to the yells and cheers which had accompanied the previous days’ events.

  Pippa opened her mouth to ask why the long faces, when she recognised the name of the winner. High Scribe. She closed her mouth again, understanding now. The ghost of Black Russian hung over the shoulders of the staff, the thought in her head surely running through theirs as well. Had he not met his death on Boxing Day, he would have been running in the Champion Hurdle and if the winner’s form was anything to go by, then he probably would have retained his title too.

  The mood was lightened an hour later when Dust Storm, Aspen Valley’s outside chance ran a close second in the next Grade One novice hurdle. Co-workers gave each other congratulatory pats on the back before their attention was once more drawn back to the screen. There was now nothing between a year’s hard graft and the Gold Cup.

  Pippa’s stomach tied itself in knots. The room hummed with nerves. Like attentive school children, the staff shushed themselves when the presenter cornered Jack for a pre-race interview.

  He looked relaxed, his expression neither over-confident nor diffident.

  ‘We’ve enjoyed a good prep leading up to this race so it’s fair to say we’ve got a decent chance,’ he told the camera. ‘Virtuoso is as fit as I can get him and he’s shown us already that he’s capable of winning this race. I’m very happy with how he is today.’

  To Pippa though, his eyes betrayed him. Jack was a lot more nervous than he was letting on. The camera switched back to the horses parading before the giant Cheltenham stands and the commentator went through each runner’s credentials.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Pippa saw Billy wipe his clammy hands on his jeans. She smiled at his obvious apprehension. As the horses lined up before the starting tape, the office telephone rang and a universal outlet of held breaths flooded the room.

  ‘For fuck’s sake, who calls during the Gold Cup?’ someone exclaimed. ‘What planet are they on?’

  Pippa reached over from where she was sitting to answer it, but another staff member was too quick for her. A stable lad picked up the receiver.

  ‘Do you mind? We’re watching the Gold Cup here, mate.’ He slammed down the phone, creating a ripple of giggles through the room which suddenly became a cheer, joining the wall of sound coming from the television, as the horses were sent on their way.

  ‘Go on, Finn!’

  ‘Come on, mate!’

  ‘All right now, Vertie!’

  ‘You can do it, Virtuoso!’

  Such was the adoration and support of Aspen Valley’s staff, Pippa felt moved. She’d never known people to be so dedicated to their jobs. Her gaze flickered between the horserace and their rapt expressions. If the Pope had walked into the room right now, no one would have given him a second glance.

  A unified intake of breath refocused her. Virtuoso had made a first mistake.

  ‘Don’t shut him on the rail, Finn, you prick!’ someone yelled.

  ‘Button it. Finn knows what he’s on about. He’s saving ground, can’t you see?’ came a reply.

  The horses rounded the highest point of the course, thundering down to the next, led by the tank-like Skylark. Finn had Virtuoso tucked into a pocket of runners on the inside amongst the tightly bunched field.

  ‘Skylark steps it up another gear as they pass the stands for the first time,’ the commentator droned. ‘Skylark leads from Sir Robbo, Kupala, Monsieur Le Cure, Virtuoso, Baker Street, Indigo Time, King Lear, Flying Scotsman, Zodiac and bringing up the rear is Killaloe.’

  With each jump, the runners began to string out, the taxing undulations and stiff birch fences taking their toll. The field was reduced to ten as the longshot Kupala tipped up at an open ditch.

  The camera zoomed in on the horses as they completed their first circuit, its main focus on the defending champion.

  ‘Finn’s niggling at him!’ someone cried.

  ‘You’re seeing things. Vertie’s going like a train.’

  ‘Yeah! Look how easy Finn’s riding!’

  Virtuoso closed the gap between him and the leaders, drawing up alongside Monsieur Le Cure and passing him as fresh as when they’d started. Pippa crossed her fingers. Her pulse quickened as the commentator’s voice rose an octave. Skylark had gone for home, his jockey pushing and scrubbing for every effort as they rounded the last turn. Finn lowered himself in the saddle, accepting the challenge in front of him. Sir Robbo’s effort in second faded out and Virtuoso passed him in mid-air over the fourth last. The third last loomed and the noise in Aspen Valley’s office swelled as they cheered on their horse.

  He cleared it, not very fluently, but it was obvious to all that he was going better than Skylark. The thunderous roar of the crowd drowned out the commentator’s frantic voice as Virtuoso drew level with his rival.

  ‘Come on, Finn!’ ‘Come on, Vertie!’ ‘Get in there! Go on!’

  The yells of the staff rang in Pippa’s e
ars. Virtuoso eased ahead as they approached the second last, his head bobbing, the first real signs of fatigue starting to show. Pippa watched Finn glance behind him before asking for a big effort. Virtuoso hesitated and put in a short stride. His momentum carried him through the thick of the birch. A despairing cry cut the air as Finn was pitched onto his horse’s neck. The defending champion rallied to keep his feet on landing, but gravity was too strong for Finn. The Irishman was jolted out of the saddle and tumble-turned into the churned ground.

  Aspen Valley groaned, followed by a shocked silence.

  The commentator, nearly whimpering with excitement, carried on regardless.

  ‘Virtuoso has unseated Finn O’Donaghue! The favourite is out of the race! What an upset! He surely had it in the bag! He leaves the door open for Skylark to lead over the second last. O’Donaghue is climbing to his feet, he looks to be okay. Skylark is safely over! Just one fence left and the Cheltenham hill to contend with. King Lear is now promoted to second position. Zodiac, the twenty-to-one outsider, is making up late ground. Here comes the last. Skylark clears it! Zodiac is flying up the outside! He’s passed King Lear. Can Skylark hold on? It’s a weary climb up that hill! Zodiac draws level! He goes clear! Zodiac wins the Cheltenham Gold Cup!’

  Pippa looked around at the shell-shocked faces. No one spoke. Some looked close to tears. She imagined that despite his heavy favouritism, a few weeks’ worth of wages had gone on Virtuoso’s number at the bookies.

  ‘Aw, fuck it,’ someone said.

  The door was yanked open and a disheartened stable lad walked out. Like zombies, the rest began to follow. Some forgot to pick up their boots, walking across the yard in their socks. Pippa turned to Emmie still sitting down. The lass looked worringly pale.

  ‘Are you okay?’ she asked.

  Her heart skipped a beat when Emmie’s face contorted with pain.

  ‘Not really,’ she said through clenched teeth.

  Pippa whisked down beside her.

  ‘What’s wrong? Are you hurting? Where does it hurt?’

  Emmie placed her hand over her stomach.

  ‘It’s just a twinge. It’s probably nothing.’

  Pippa met Billy’s stare of horror. She licked her lips, trying to keep her cool and placed a comforting hand over Emmie’s.

  ‘I’m sure you’re right. But to make certain, I think we should take a quick trip to the hospital. Okay?’

  Emmie darted her a look of panic.

  ‘Do you think something’s wrong with the baby?’ she said, trembling.

  ‘No, no. I’m sure the baby’s fine,’ Pippa lied. She hadn’t felt less sure of anything in her life. ‘Blame me for being over-cautious, that’s all.’ She gave Emmie a quick smile then went to fetch her handbag and car keys. Her hands shook. Her head pounded, the already adrenalin-fired blood in her veins taking on a more urgent flow.

  ‘You coming, Billy?’ she said.

  Billy, wide-eyed with fear, nodded.

  ‘I’m coming.’

  Pippa sat in the hospital’s waiting area, chilled to the core. She pinched her eyes, trying to relieve her headache from the glare of the overhead lights. The sound of Billy’s footsteps as he paced up and down the aisle throbbed in her ears as they awaited the verdict on Emmie in the adjoining examination room. To distract herself she pulled out her mobile phone to check for messages. There was nothing, not even an acknowledgement from Jack to the text she had sent earlier telling him she was taking Emmie to hospital. She grimaced at the thought of what he must be going through, wading through the aftermath of Virtuoso’s defeat.

  Billy’s footsteps jarred her thoughts as he passed by once more.

  ‘Billy, why don’t you come sit down?’ she said, patting the chair beside her.

  The lad threw an anxious glance towards the closed door before complying.

  ‘Do you think she’ll be okay?’ he asked.

  Pippa nodded and squeezed his hand.

  ‘I’m sure we would have heard something by now if it was anything serious.’

  ‘But she said she was getting cramps. That can’t be good, can it?’

  Pippa tried to give him a reassuring smile, but felt fraudulent.

  ‘I don’t know much about pregnancy, to be honest with you. But I do know that if something bad was happening then there would be nurses and doctors rushing in and out of here.’ She looked around and gave him a wry smile. ‘I don’t see much of anything going on, do you?’

  Billy nodded with a sigh.

  ‘It’s all bloody Finn’s fault, upsetting her like that.’

  She frowned at his vehement statement, a barrier of defensiveness rising up inside her.

  ‘I’m sure he didn’t mean to fall off.’

  ‘Yeah, I know,’ Billy sighed. ‘But he only fell because he made a stupid mistake. He shouldn’t have asked Virtuoso for such a big jump after such a long race.’

  ‘I don’t know then,’ she said with a resigned shrug. ‘But if Finn did make a bad judgement call then he’ll be kicking himself now. He’ll know what he’s done wrong.’ She thought of the media frenzy he and Jack must be experiencing right now and how far removed it was from the isolation of Bristol’s hospital waiting area.

  ‘If anything happens to Emmie, then he’ll get to know a whole lot more about what he did wrong,’ he muttered.

  Finn had Pippa’s sympathy, but Billy’s concern touched her.

  ‘You and Emmie make a good couple.’

  Billy dropped his gaze and she saw a ghost of a smile ball his cheeks.

  ‘I love her, you know.’

  Tears pricked Pippa’s eyes and she blinked them back.

  Really, she scolded herself, she must get a grip on her emotions. She’d recently gone back on the Pill to regularise her cycle, but it’d been playing havoc with her hormones ever since. Hormones and overtiredness is what it is, she told herself. She felt herself smiling as a voice in her head responded, Oh, just admit it. You’re a sap when it comes to love.

  ‘So I see,’ she said out loud, giving him a teasing grin.

  Billy’s cheeks pinked and he fiddled with his hands.

  ‘We were gonna get a place together. You know, before the baby comes and all that, just so we could get used to living with each other before everything changes.’ He sighed. ‘Don’t know if that’s going to happen now.’

  Pippa opened her mouth to reply, but was forestalled by the adjoining door opening. She and Billy sprang to their feet. A nurse motioned them forward.

  ‘Would you like to come see Emmie?’

  ‘Is she okay? Is the baby okay?’ Billy barraged her.

  The nurse smiled kindly.

  ‘Nothing to worry about. Cramps aren’t unusual in early pregnancy. We’ve done an ultrasound just to be safe, but everything appears to be fine.’

  Pippa sank against the wall and breathed a sigh of relief. Billy gave an anguished snort, biting down on his fist then hugged the nurse.

  ‘She’s okay? Can I take her home?’ he asked as the nurse extricated herself.

  ‘Yes, she’s free to go, but she must take it easy for a while. She mentioned you both work at a horseracing yard?’

  Billy nodded.

  ‘Well, my advice is she should take some time out. Hard manual labour is the last thing she should be doing right now.’

  Billy nodded again, more emphatically.

  ‘I won’t let her do a thing, don’t worry. I’ll even cook for her –’

  The jingle from Pippa’s mobile intervened, earning a disapproving frown from the nurse. With a guilty smile, Pippa fumbled for it in her pocket. Her thumb paused over the cut off key when she saw the caller ID.

  ‘Sorry, I’d better take this,’ she said. ‘I’ll be back in a minute, Billy. Go in and see Emmie. I won’t be long.’ She hurried down the corridor towards the exit, her heart doing random backflips as she answered the call.

  ‘Jack?’

  ‘Pippa. Where are you?’

  ‘At the hos
pital. Hold on, let me just go outside... Ooh, fuck, it’s cold out here.’

  Beneath the entrance’s overhang, she hunched her shoulders against the biting wind, wrapping her free arm around her body.

  ‘What’s happened to Emmie? Is she okay?’

  ‘We’ve just spoken to the nurse who examined her. She’s going to be fine.’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘We were watching the Gold Cup and she started getting stomach cramps.’

  ‘Jesus Christ. Is the baby okay?’

  ‘They’re both fine. Apparently cramps aren’t that unusual. Scared the hell out of us though. Billy was ready to kill Finn not so long ago.’

  ‘Hm,’ Jack grunted. ‘He’s not the only one.’

  His voice was hoarse, as if he’d been speaking or shouting for a long time without a drink to relieve his throat. Pippa ached to be back at the office and able to make him a cup of tea.

  ‘I’m sorry about Virtuoso,’ she said gently.

  ‘Yeah, so am I. It wasn’t the result we were hoping for.’

  ‘How did Mr Mardling and Melissa take it?’

  ‘Ken Mardling’s been in racing long enough to know anything can happen. He’s disappointed, I suppose, but that’s to be expected.’ He exhaled, weary and defeated. ‘And Melissa, I don’t know. She just seems... distracted. I don’t know anymore.’

  Pippa chewed her lip as she considered his words. A sudden image of Melissa and Finn in Helensvale’s Turkish restaurant flashed into her mind. If there’d been more to that meeting than what Finn had said, could Melissa have been distracted because of Finn’s fall?

  Her eyes widened.

  Maybe she’d got Melissa wrong. Did the fashion designer care for him more than she should? Oh, hell, that’s all Jack needed now, she inwardly groaned.

  ‘Pippa? Are you still there?’ Jack’s strained voice jogged her back to the present.

  ‘Yes, I’m here.’ She hesitated. ‘Jack?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Jack, are you okay?’ she asked in a small voice.