Derek put his paper down. ‘Absolutely. As you rightly said the other night, horseracing is a big gamble, but I certainly think their form is up there with the best of them.’
‘But we’re just small fry from the bush.’
‘So are the majority of trainers out there – it’s only the media who’ll have you think it’s just the big boys with all the money that do well. They figure so prominently because they have the numbers. But if you looked into the stats you’d find success is pretty evenly spread. You’ve seen how much it costs to enter the group ones. That’s what excludes the smaller outfits – not the quality of their training, or their horses.’
Claire frowned and looked down at the bowl in front of her.
‘Claire, I am not just saying it. Believe in yourself. Take a risk: put your horses in with the best of the best and see where the chips fall. That’s all you can do. Sorry, I don’t mean to go on.’ He laughed, blushed ever so slightly, and picked up his paper again.
‘Thank you, it was a lovely speech.’ Claire laughed, leant over and kissed him. ‘And I really do appreciate your faith in me.’
‘You may be new at this training thing, but you’re damn good at it.’
And right there Claire McIntyre decided she would do everything in her power to give the horses the chance they deserved. And Jack. The Cup Carnival in Victoria that had always been out of reach was going to be a reality – just being there would be an honour for him. With the fluttering of excited butterflies in her stomach, Claire wondered how Paycheque and Howie would cope with the atmosphere, people, noise. How would she? She was nervous just thinking about it.
‘One step at a time,’ she muttered. ‘Nominate and then qualify.’
‘That’s my girl,’ Derek said, leaning over and giving her a kiss. ‘Though you’ll have to beat my Humble first,’ he said, leaping up and ducking just in time to avoid being hit in the head with the paper.
‘You’re on,’ Claire said, gritting her teeth with determination.
Claire was at the café early. Neither Bernadette nor David were anywhere in sight. She grabbed an old copy of New Idea on the way to their usual table. Bernadette had never been very punctual, but was becoming less so the closer she got to the wedding date.
She and David had decided to wait until after the Melbourne Cup to get married, but were discussing having a pre-wedding honeymoon in Melbourne during the Carnival. Claire really hoped they would – she’d need Bernie on hand to keep her grounded.
But where would they stay? She, Derek, Maddie and Jack had arranged to put a borrowed caravan at the Fitzpatrick farm where the horses would be. Not exactly the glamour the Carnival was renowned for, and a far cry from a five-star hotel and a corporate box. Claire felt a clenching in her stomach, the flutter of nerves. She’d been getting it almost hourly since Saturday’s race at Morphettville – Howie had qualified for the Underwood Stakes.
Unfortunately, Paycheque had missed out, only picking up a fourth and a sixth for the day. They were outstanding results, given his catastrophic injury of only a few short months ago, but still she’d hoped for more. If he’d qualified, she’d be able to get that worry off her mind. She couldn’t believe Jack was so matter-of-fact about it; for him it was the culmination of a lifetime’s work. Claire was more nervous than excited; so much could go wrong.
‘So sorry I’m late,’ said Bernadette, plonking herself onto her usual chair and dumping her handbag on the floor. She tried to push some unruly tendrils from her flushed damp face but they bounced back.
‘What’s going on?’
‘Oh you know, the usual stuff. Delivered half a truckload of cow poo to Tom Barnett but he reckons he ordered sheep poo,’ she said, flapping a hand. ‘So I’m in the shit – well he is.’ She grinned, rolling her eyes.
‘So, what are you going to do?’
‘He’ll just have to get over it – Darren’s got the paperwork clearly stating cow. End of story. So, what are we eating?’ She turned around to consult the handwritten menu board behind them.
Claire stared in wonder at her friend. No matter what went wrong at the nursery, Bernadette sorted it with ease, yet the tiniest problem with the upcoming nuptials sent her over the edge.
She’d phoned the other night in tears because the Golf Club was already booked the night they wanted to hold their reception. She’d been nearly hysterical until Claire had recited back her own philosophy to her, saying it clearly wasn’t meant to be and that there’d be somewhere much nicer available. Bernie had wailed that she’d wanted photos by the lovely big gum tree out front, and Claire had calmly pointed out that the land was a public reserve and she didn’t need Golf Club permission to have her photos there.
Finally, Bernadette had let out a big sigh. ‘I don’t know what is wrong with me. This wedding is doing my head in.’
‘They do that,’ Claire had replied, thinking back to some of the ordeals she’d faced all those years ago. It was like some kind of test, a baptism of fire.
Derek had been married before, so he was unlikely to want a big wedding – if they decided to get married. Not that she and Derek had even discussed it. Nonetheless, she could picture a simple exchange of rings under the weeping willow out behind her cottage and a few select guests sipping champagne. Claire revelled in her daydream for a few moments before snapping her attention back to the menu.
‘You’re a little calmer than the other night – got the wedding under control then?’ she ventured.
‘Wedding! I don’t know what I was thinking. I’ve never been so stressed in my life.’
Claire offered a sympathetic expression. ‘You can change your mind, it’s probably not too late.’
‘That’s the thing. I know it’ll be fabulous on the day. I just want it to be easier.’
‘They don’t call it the biggest day of your life for nothing.’
‘Enough of my whingeing. How are my boys? Sorry I couldn’t make it on Saturday – how did they go?’
‘Howie qualified for the Underwood Stakes.’
‘Wow, that’s fantastic. Shit! That means he won sixty grand – drinks are on you, then.’
‘Yeah, well, it sounds a lot but it isn’t even enough to clear the farm’s overdraft. I still can’t get over how much money is tied up in the game.’
David appeared beside them holding two effervescing glasses of champagne. ‘Here you are girls,’ he said, putting them down. ‘On the house.’
‘What are we celebrating?’ Claire asked, looking from David to Bernadette. Don’t tell me you’re pregnant, she thought – though that might explain a few things.
David shrugged. ‘Life, future happiness, Paycheque’s return to health – take your pick,’ he said, and laughed.
‘Thanks. Care to join us?’ Claire asked.
‘Can’t. Sorry.’
‘He’s so sweet,’ Claire said, picking up her glass.
‘Isn’t he just the best?’ Bernadette said, staring after her fiancé all doe-eyed.
‘So, what are we drinking to?’ Claire asked, breaking the spell.
‘I don’t know.’
‘Okay, what about the good life? About sums it up.’
They clinked glasses and toasted, ‘The good life’.
Claire took a deep, savouring sip of champagne as they waited for their chicken and avocado crêpes. She really did feel life was perfect. Except for one niggling issue. It had been bothering her since she and Derek started spending so much time together.
‘Bernie, I need your opinion on something.’
‘Yes darling, anything. Madam Bernadette awaits you.’
Claire hesitated, looked away.
‘Sorry, I was being silly. Seriously, what’s up?’
‘Well, do you and David… Do you ever get competitive?’
‘In the bedroom?’
‘No, life. Like earning more money, businesses doing better – that sort of thing?’
‘Oh, he earns a tonne more money than me. I don’
t care. This place takes a lot more effort than my little patch,’ Bernadette said, waving an arm around.
‘But does it ever bother you? Like when he has heaps of customers and your business is quiet?’
‘No, we’re in two completely different industries – there is no competition. Ahh, I get it. You’re worried about you and Derek both being in horseracing.’
‘Exactly.’
‘Well for one thing, Claire, you’re a highly competitive person – which I’m not – so you can’t compare you and Derek to David and me.’
‘But you want to do well.’
‘I’m determined, passionate and strong-willed, but if I’m competitive, it’s only with myself. If you compete with someone else then essentially someone has to win and someone has to lose.’
‘I hadn’t thought of it like that. So what do I do?’
‘About what, exactly?’
‘I’m worried it means our relationship can’t work long-term.’
‘Why not? You adore each other!’
‘I know, but I’ve kind of stopped telling him what I’m up to with the horses and I think he’s noticing.’
‘Claire, you can’t compete with someone who isn’t in the same race.’
‘We might both have horses in the Caulfield yet, fingers crossed.’
‘You’re missing my point. You’re a trainer, he’s an owner – you can’t compete directly.’
‘But I’ll want my horse to win, which – as you pointed out – will be at the expense of his. That’s competition.’
‘I don’t think you’ve been truly tested. If your horse beat his I think you’d be genuinely disappointed for him.’
‘Of course I would.’
‘Oh God, I don’t know.’ Bernadette laughed, gave a shrug and downed the dregs in her glass. ‘Talk to Derek, that’s the best I can offer.’
Their meals arrived while Claire was still trying to sort out what Bernadette had said, and decide whether her advice was worth heeding.
‘Eat while it’s hot, Claire, and forget I said anything at all. My head’s all over the place at the moment,’ she said, waving her fork.
As she picked up her own fork, Claire couldn’t help wondering if indeed Bernadette had been on to something. One thing that made sense was to talk it over with Derek. She felt a little guilty; not so long ago she’d promised him she could talk to him about anything, and would, no matter how difficult.
Claire was pleased Derek was at the cottage when she got home – she really wanted to get this off her chest. She made them a cup of tea and asked him to sit down. He looked worried, which made her feel terrible. She pushed on.
‘Oh, you silly thing. Is that all?’ he asked with obvious relief when she’d finally lowered her silencing hand indicating he was free to speak. ‘You’re worried we’re too competitive?’
She was annoyed with herself for building it up into such a drama.
‘Your drive and determination are what I love most about you. Just don’t ever say, “nah nah, beat you,” or else I shall have to spank your pretty little arse.’
‘Promises, promises.’ She laughed.
He playfully tried to grab her behind. She squirmed and wriggled, pretending to resist, but was pinned down on the couch beneath him, her body already tingling in anticipation.
Chapter Forty
Three months later.
‘Oh Derek, it’s so exciting just to be here,’ Claire said, clapping her hands before accepting a cup of tea from him.
‘Yes, truly five-star,’ Derek deadpanned, looking around him.
She slapped at his arm. ‘Not here, silly, Melbourne. The Cup Carnival. I just can’t believe we’re actually taking part.’
Claire looked around the borrowed caravan that would be home for the next eight weeks. The brown, orange and cream floral curtains matched the bedspread, and perfectly picked out the orange in the vinyl of the upholstered bench seat. It was dated, but clean and comfortable. More importantly, it was free: a loan from a friend of a friend of Derek’s. It had seemed to take forever to get organised, make the trip, and finally get the horses and themselves settled.
‘Well you’ve worked hard, you deserve it.’
‘Had a bit of luck too, don’t forget.’
‘Nothing wrong with using luck to get your way – we’ve all done it more than once.’
‘Yes, but…’
‘I know, sweetheart,’ he said tenderly, putting his arm around her shoulders. ‘But he’s up there wishing us all the best, just like Amy. It’s meant to be.’
‘But I still feel a little guilty.’
‘We can’t keep going over this. If you weren’t meant to be here, the money wouldn’t have come through.’
‘But what if I’ve wasted it? It’s terribly self-indulgent.’
‘No, it’s not.’
‘It will be if we don’t win anything back.’
‘Have you seen the joy on your father’s face? This is a dream come true for him. When you consider that, how could it possibly be a waste – or self-indulgent, for that matter? Just enjoy the opportunity.’
‘You’re so wise. I love you Derek Anderson,’ she said, leaning over and kissing him.
‘I should think so,’ he said, kissing her back.
Claire sipped her tea. ‘I’ll never forget seeing how excited Dad looked standing outside Paycheque’s stall earlier. Like a kid at Christmas.’
Claire stared into her cup. A big grin lit up her features as she thought what a great feeling it was to be able to bring that sort of joy to someone. She felt a lump forming in her throat and swallowed it back, offering a silent thankyou to Keith as she did so.
‘It’s going to be interesting to see how they cope with the crowds.’
‘Howie’s pretty relaxed – he’ll be fine. Paycheque will either freak out or revel in the attention.’
‘I’m hoping for not freaking out, but he’s always full of surprises.’ Claire laughed. ‘I hope Todd Newman is here to see the horse he sent to the knackery entered into the Caulfield.’
‘He’s here – tied up with Dick Hayworth’s team.’
‘Well I hope we beat him.’
‘Word of advice,’ Derek said gently. ‘Focus on your own race. Don’t get caught up in worrying what anyone else is doing.’
‘I know you’re right. It’s just that it still riles me when I think about what Paycheque went through. It’s hard to believe he’s even here, let alone entered in a big one. Sorry, darling, enough about me. When are you catching up with your team? How’s Humble?’
‘I’m only an owner, Claire. No need for me to get too involved. I’ve found it works best to stay out of the way – just be available for the odd comment, photo, acceptance of trophy. My main job is to keep you calm.’
‘Thanks – I think I’m going to need it.’
‘Claire McIntyre, I’ve got to say, you’re particularly gorgeous when you’re vulnerable.’
‘Well don’t get used to it, mister.’
‘Seriously Claire, I’m so excited and proud of you. I really am,’ Derek said, hugging her tightly.
‘Same here, Derek. I just know Humble is going to do well. Maybe we can get first and second in the Caulfield.’
‘Who first? You or me?’
‘Doesn’t matter.’
‘That’s my girl – not that I believe you,’ he said, kissing her on the nose and then down her neck.
The caravan door opened and Maddie appeared. ‘Sorry, am I interrupting something?’ she asked with raised eyebrows.
Claire sat up and straightened her clothes.
‘Don’t be silly, come on in,’ Derek mumbled, and put some distance between himself and Claire.
‘Well they’re settled,’ Maddie said, flopping onto the nearest bench seat. ‘Jack will be here any second. He’s just offering Paycheque a few extra words of advice.’
‘Hopefully he’s telling him to ease up on the food. That horse is such a greedy guts,’ Claire s
aid.
Maddie was bleary-eyed and snippy after her third night sleeping in a spare stall at the stables. She mumbled vague greetings and pretended to engross herself in her Weetbix. Ordinarily, she was chirpy and full of energy after taking the horses out for their morning exercise. Derek and Claire exchanged concerned frowns.
‘How were they this morning?’ Claire asked, feeling a little guilty for having slept in while the horses were just lightly exercised. Not that the average person would consider eight o’clock a sleep-in.
‘Howie’s fine, no different from being at home. I reckon he’s up to a full workout tomorrow.’
‘And Paycheque?’
‘Pain in the arse. He’s all over the place: nutty one minute, sluggish the next.’
‘Was he any better last night?’
‘No. I don’t think he slept a wink – neither did I. Again. I can’t do another one. Sorry, but I’m going to have to cramp your style here tonight.’
‘What do you think is wrong with him?’ Derek asked Claire.
‘I don’t know. Maddie, any ideas?’
‘I’m too bloody tired to think. I thought he might be scared of the dark or something – even left the light on for him last night. Don’t tell old man Fitzpatrick, he’ll have a fit.’
‘Did it help?’ Claire asked.
‘Nope, not a scrap. He still paced and stomped about – sounded like he even started kicking out at the walls.’
‘Well let’s just hope he gets his act together and doesn’t embarrass us at Werribee,’ Claire said.
Chapter Forty–one
‘I wondered where you’d got to,’ Claire said, looking up from her paperwork as Derek came into the van with both arms full of newspapers.
‘Thought we should keep up with what’s going on – know our competition, as they say.’
Claire snorted. ‘Know our competition! We’re hardly competitive thanks to Paycheque’s little performance yesterday.’
‘Howie’s doing all right. Maybe Paycheque just needs longer to settle.’
‘He’s had a week. Little shit! At this rate we’ll be the laughingstock of the Carnival.’
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