Stick with him, Shasa, and play him at his own game, he ended his advice, and Shasa smiled, his face radiant with pleasure and determination.
Thank you, sir. He clapped his hard hat on his head and strode away, the shaft of his mallet over his shoulder, the back of his white breeches stained brown with dubbin from the saddle and the sweat drying in salty white crystals between the shoulders of his bright yellow jersey.
Bunty, we are changing sides, he called, and when Abel led Tiger Shark up, Shasa. punched his shoulder lightly. You are right, you old thunder, I did check the girth myself. He made a show of doing it again, and Abel grinned delightedly when Shasa looked up from the girth buckle and told him, Now you can't blame me again. Without touching the stirrups he swung up onto Tiger Shark's back.
Blaine pushed himself away from the wagon wheel and sauntered back towards the grandstand, his eyes instinctively sweeping the throng for the bright yellow of Centaine's hat.
She was in a circle of males. Blaine recognized Sir Garry Courtney and General Smuts amongst them, together with three other influential men, a banker, a cabinet minister in the Hertzog government and Max Theunissen's father.
A pretty average sort of bunch for Madame Courtney. Blaine winced at the jealous pang he could not harden himself to accept.
Centaine's invitations had been sent out not only to the best players in the country but to all the most influential and important men in every other field: politicians, academics, great landowners and mining magnates, businessmen and newspaper editors, even a few artists and writers.
The chateau of Weltevreden was unable to house them all and she had taken over every room at the neighbouring Alphen Hotel, once also part of the Cloete family estate, to accommodate the overflow. Together with all her local there were well over two hundred from out of town.
guests, She had chartered a special train to bring down the upcountry contingent and their ponies, and for five days the entertainment had been continuous.
junior league polo in the mornings, an al fresco banquet at lunch time, senior polo in the afternoon, followed by an elaborate buffet dinner and all-night dancing.
Half a dozen bands played in relays, providing non-stop music through the days and nights. In between there were cabaret turns and fashion shows, a charity sale of art and rare wines, another sale of yearling thoroughbreds, a concours d'dftance for motor vehicles and lady drivers, a treasure hunt, a fancy-dress evening, tennis, croquet and bridge tournaments, show-jumping, a motor cyclist on a wall of death, Punch and Judy for the children and a team of professional nannies to keep the little ones occupied.
And I am the only one who knows what it is all about. Blaine looked up the stand at her. It's crazy and in a way immoral. It's no longer her money to spend. But I love her for her courage in the midst of misfortune. Centaine sensed him watching and her head turned quickly to him. For a moment they stared at each other, the distance between them not muting the intensity of their gaze, then she turned back to General Smuts and laughed gaily at what he was saying.
Blaine longed to go to her, just to be near to her, just to smell her perfume and listen to that husky voice with its touch of French accent, but instead he strode determinedly across the front of the stand to where Isabella sat in her wheelchair. This was the first day that Isabella had felt strong enough to attend the tournament and Centaine had arranged for a special ramp to be built to allow her wheelchair to reach the first tier of seats in the stand for a view of the field.
Isabella's silver-haired mother sat on one side of her and she was surrounded by four of her close girl friends and their husbands; but her two daughters came streaking down from the stand as soon as they saw Blaine, holding up their skirts to the knees with one hand and cramming their widebrimmed beribboned straw hats onto their heads with the other while they gabbled shrilly for his attention and then hopped along on each side of him, clinging to his hands and dragging him up to his seat beside Isabella.
Dutifully Blaine kissed the pale silky cbeek that Isabella Offered him. The skin was cool, and he caught a whiff of laudanum. on her breath. The pupils of her large eyes were dilated from the drug, giving them a touchingly vulnerable look.
I missed you, darling, she whispered, and it was the truth.
The moment Blaine had left her, she had looked around desperately to find Centaine Courtney, her torment only easing a little when she saw Centaine surrounded by admirers higher in the stand.
I had to chat to the boy, Blaine excused himself. Are you feeling better? Thank you. The laudanum is working now. She smiled up at him, so tragic and brave that he stooped once more and kissed her forehead. Then as he straightened he glanced guiltily in Centaine's direction, hoping that she had not noticed that spontaneous gesture of tenderness; but she was watching him, and she looked away quickly.
Papa, the teams are coming out. Tara tugged him down into his seat. Come on, Weltevreden, she shrieked, and Blaine could concentrate on the match rather than his own dilemma.
Changing sides Shasa led his team past the grandstand, cantering easily down the sideline, standing in the stirrups to adjust the chinstrap of his cap and searching for Blaine in the stand. They caught each other's eye and Shasa grinned as Blaine gave him a laconic thumbs up. Then he dropped back into the saddle and swung Tiger Shark around to face the Natal team as they rode out in their white breeches and caps, black boots and black short-sleeved shirts, looking tough and expert.
Max Theunissen frowned as he realized that Shasa had changed sides, and he circled out and flashed a hand signal to his number two on the far side of the field and then came back around again just as the umpire trotted to the centre and dropped the white bamboo root ball.
The last chukka opened with a confused scrappy m86e, with hacked shots missing and the ball trampled and rolling under the ponies hooves. Then it popped clear and Bunty leaned out of the saddle and hit his first good shot of the match, a high forehand drive that lofted well up-field and his pony went after it instinctively, bearing Bunty along on the line whether he liked it or not.
It was Bunty's shot, so he had the right of way and his pony came in perfectly to set him up, but Max Theunissen wheeled Nemesis and the black stallion was at full gallop within two strides. Max's father had not paid 11,000 for nothing, and the big powerful horse came down on Bunty like an avalanche.
Bunty looked over his shoulder and Shasa saw him blanch.
