Jacobs had him at the…’
‘What? Bill Parsons took him. Dad hates how Al treats his horses. Was he all right? Not that there’s anything I can do.’
‘Skinny, scared shitless.’
‘He wasn’t racing, was he?’
‘Afraid so. Well, they tried.’
‘But he’s not ready – Dad said he needed another six months at least.’ Claire didn’t want to ask the obvious, but had gone too far not to. ‘So I guess he didn’t do so well?’
‘No, wouldn’t have a bar of the barriers, poor little thing.’
‘Oh God. After all the work Dad put in.’
‘I know, sorry to have to tell you.’ Derek shrugged. ‘Just thought you should know. I must be going soft.’
‘Anything else I should know?’
‘Al did mention getting rid of him, but I’m sure it was just his temper talking. You know how hot under the collar he gets.’
‘Well, it’s a pity, but there’s nothing I can do about it.’
‘You could take that time off – get him back. I’ve heard you could have been a half-decent trainer if you’d stuck to it.’
‘Jeez Derek, you are going soft. But seriously, I don’t think Dad would want me interfering.’ Claire’s desk phone started ringing.
‘Well if you change your mind,’ Derek said, and left with a wave of his hand.
Claire stared after him for a second before picking up the phone.
Thoughts of Paycheque niggled at Claire all day. She saw his face in her mind every time she picked up the phone, every time she put it down, while she checked her emails, dealt with her in-tray, and added or scrubbed something from her to do list.
She’d sold all four of Jack’s horses. So why was only Paycheque plaguing her? Storm had much more going for him than Paycheque did – he was the right size for a start. God, she really shouldn’t have sold them. How would Jack react? He’d be angry, sad and disappointed. Of course he would. She’d known that and gone ahead anyway. Why? Because I didn’t have a choice, she told herself forcefully and got up to make a cup of tea. It was three o’clock and she was sick of the distraction.
But Paycheque was there again while she filled the kettle, turned it on, and put a tea bag in her mug. The small bay colt with the unusual enquiring tilt to his head, large expressive eyes, and level-headed willingness beyond his age. She thought about what Derek had said. Horses refusing to go into barriers was just part of racing. If they cracked under the pressure, their career was over. Just like any other elite athlete. Only the best horses were worth investing in. And the others… She hated to think about it. But it really was a part of life.
Paycheque was still on her mind when she got back to her desk. Jack had said over and over that he wasn’t ready to race. He shouldn’t even have been there, shouldn’t have been given the chance to fail. But Jack had also said he’d showed the most promise of any of his horses over the years. They were just words, weren’t they? Jack had always thought big – bigger than he should, if Claire was being honest. But now that she thought about it, Claire didn’t remember him being so vehement about a horse’s potential, or so attached to one. Paycheque hadn’t been just one of many, he’d held a really special place in Jack’s heart. Shit, what had she done? She rubbed a hand across her face.
Maybe it was part of some sick plan of Derek’s, some sort of reverse psychology. It could be anything with Derek, you just never knew. Or maybe it was even worse than he’d let on – he hadn’t wanted to completely lose his tough guy, racehorses-are-just-a-means-for-making-money attitude and was really concerned. If that was true, after what he’d seen in his time at the track and behind the scenes, it meant things were looking really bad for the little horse. But there was nothing she could do now, was there?
No, she’d kept things together through losing Keith and Jack’s illness; now was definitely not the time to go all soft. She had to keep focussed. It was certainly not the time to go gallivanting off on some ridiculous crusade to rescue a racehorse who, for all she knew, had spat the dummy, turned dangerous and was no longer any good. Hell, he’d probably be a dud anyway – Jack had had enough of them over the years. She really had to put Paycheque out of her mind.
Chapter Three
Four days later, Bernadette and Claire were curled up on Bernadette’s three-seater lounge with glasses of wine and an uncorked bottle on the coffee table in front of them.
‘So,’ Bernie said. ‘Anything in particular you want to do this weekend?’
‘Well I do have a bit of work I need to get done.’
‘All work and no play – you know what they say.’
‘You’ll be at the shop all morning tomorrow.’
‘Ah yes, but that’s hardly work – I love it.’
‘Well I could say the same, I…’
‘Really?’ Bernadette demanded, staring hard at her.
‘Actually, no.’ Claire sighed wearily. ‘But it’s something I need to get done.’
‘I rest my case.’ Bernadette downed the rest of her wine and reached for the bottle.
‘So that’s tomorrow morning covered. What about afterwards?’
‘Well…’ Claire fidgeted with the stem of her glass.
‘Yes?’
‘I think it’s time I faced going out to the farm.’
‘If you’re sure you’re ready.’
‘I don’t even understand what I’m so afraid of.’
‘That’s the thing about fear – it isn’t always rational. So what’s the latest with Jack?’
‘No change. Stubborn old bugger.’ Claire smiled weakly.
‘Well I think he’ll be happy you’re going out to the farm.’
‘Bernadette?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Do you think people in a coma can hear what’s going on around them?’
‘Yes, I do. Why?’
‘I’d hate him feeling he’s a burden.’
‘Well I don’t think he’d want you beating yourself up on his account.’
‘I just feel so helpless. There’s nothing I can do to help him.’
‘Except get on with life – make the best of things.’
‘I am getting on with life.’
‘You think so, huh?’
‘What? I’ve got a good job, roof over my head – I’m not exactly a burden on society.’
‘But Claire, are you happy all alone in that big house?’
‘Uh-oh, I can feel a lecture coming on. Or worse – a blind date.’
‘Damn, why didn’t I think of that? Seriously though, Claire, you do need to get out more. What about that guy Derek – from the office?’
‘Derek? Bernie, he’s my boss!’
‘I thought he was nice at that party you invited me to.’
‘Well you’re welcome to him. Anyway, what would you know, you were pissed, you had your beer goggles on girly.’