Harriet fled upstairs. It’s going to happen, she thought in anguish. But five minutes later she heard Cory come upstairs and the spare-room door open and shut. It was as though a great spear had been drawn out of her side.
Chapter Twenty-three
Harriet never forgot the day of the point-to-point — the bookies shouting, the county in their well-cut tweeds, the children sucking toffee apples, the crowds pressing around the paddock and the finishing post, the circling horses with their glossy coats.
She stood in the paddock trying to hold on to an impossibly over-excited Chattie — poor Jonah hadn’t been allowed out — watching Python being saddled up. The black mare’s coat rippling blue in the sunshine.
Cory came over to them. He was wearing a pink and grey striped shirt, and carrying a pink and grey cap. They had hardly spoken since Noel left. He picked up her hand and gave her his watch.
‘Look after it for me,’ he said, curling her fingers over it.
‘Good luck,’ she whispered.
‘Good luck, Daddy,’ said Chattie.
They watched him feel Python’s girths, clap a hand on the ebony quarters, put a foot in the stirrup and he was up, riding slowly round the paddock.
Two men beside Harriet in the crowd were discussing them.
‘Grand looking beast. Bit young, bit light, though.’
‘Erskine can ride her.’
‘Oh it’s Erskine is it? That’s worth a fiver each way.’
Harriet’s heart swelled with pride. Oh, please let him win. He needs this small, unimportant victory so much to cheer him up.
There were nine horses in the race. Acceptance, the favourite, a tall rangy bay, had been heavily backed to win. Harriet and Chattie climbed to the top of the hill, so they could see nearly all the way round the course and also hear the commentator. Harriet was so nervous she could hardly bear to watch.
At last they were off. For the first time round, Python was lying sixth for most of the way, but as the field started to jump the fences for the second time, she slowly began moving up.
‘And now they’ve only got eight fences to jump,’ said the commentator. ‘And it’s still Snow Moss from Acceptance, then Lazy Lucy and Tragedy Queen. Python is going very well and making ground all the time. Now they’re coming up to the seventh from home and it’s still Acceptance and Snow Moss. But Acceptance jumped that crooked and someone’s down. I can’t see exactly who it is. . yes, it’s Python! Python’s down, I’m afraid.’
The crowd gave a groan. Harriet felt an agonizing pain shoot through her. But she was only conscious of fear — that Cory might be hurt, badly hurt.
Chattie started to cry.
‘He’ll be all right,’ said Harriet in a shaking voice.
The microphone crackled. ‘I’m sorry,’ said the commentator. ‘I made a mistake. It wasn’t Python, it was Lazy Lucy who fell at the last fence — they’ve got similar colours. Python’s there and still making ground.’
Tears pricked Harriet’s eyes. Relief streamed over her.
As if in a dream, she watched Cory’s figure crouched over the little black mare, coaxing her, urging her on. Slowly the distance between him and the leaders shortened. Only one more fence to go, and then Snow Moss had fallen, and it was only a tiring Acceptance between Cory and victory.
‘Come on,’ shrieked Harriet. And now Python was drawing level. For a split second, it looked as though Acceptance was going to hold on, then Python drew ahead by a nose as they passed the post.
How Harriet and Chattie hugged each other!
‘I’ve won 50p,’ screamed Chattie.
Everyone cheered as Cory rode in. For once, a broad grin was spread across the impassive features, as he patted the sweating mare.
‘Oh, clever, clever Daddy!’ screeched Chattie.
Cory’s eyes met Harriet’s. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘we did it.’
He dismounted and then, Harriet never remembered afterwards how it happened, a golden figure smothered in furs suddenly pushed her way through the crowd, and flung her arms round Cory’s neck. It was Noel.
‘Oh, darling, darling,’ she cried. ‘I’m so proud of you.’
‘Mummy! Whatever are you doing here?’ said Chattie.
‘I’m not going to marry Ronnie,’ cried Noel. ‘I’ve come back, back to Daddy. We’re all going to be one happy family again.’
Suddenly the paddock seemed to be full of photographers.
‘This is the most wonderful day of my life,’ said Noel, smiling at them radiantly.
Cory’s face was quite expressionless.
In a daze, Harriet watched Chattie pulling at Noel’s coat.
‘Mummy, Mummy! Did you bring me a present?’
‘Yes, of course I did, darling.’ She turned round to Harriet with a mocking smile on her beautiful face. ‘I even brought a little
Harriet looked round and gave a gasp. She hadn’t noticed the slender, elegant figure in the black fur coat and dark glasses.
‘Hullo, Harriet, darling,’ said Simon.
‘Simon! Oh, my God,’ whispered Harriet. ‘What are you doing here?’ Her hand flew to her cheek. Then Chattie gave a shriek. ‘Look at Harriet! She’s hurt herself.’
Looking down, Harriet realized that blood was pouring from her hand. Then the horrified faces in front of her started going round and round, and she lost consciousness.
Darkness, sickness, throbbing pain engulfed her. The sound of different voices drummed in her ears.
A wail from Chattie: ‘She’s not dying, is she?’
Noel’s voice, steel-tipped with irritation: ‘Of course not, she’s only fainted.’
Cory’s voice like gravel, harsh with anxiety: ‘Get back all of you! Can’t you see she needs more air?’
Another voice, tender, caressing, languid. Could it really be Simon’s?
‘Everything’s going to be all right, darling, I’m with you now.’
Then great whirling clouds of darkness coming down again, then slowly clearing and, suddenly, she opened her eyes and saw a face looking down at her, pale against the sable coat, a face she was only used to seeing in dreams, or disappearing in nightmares.
‘Oh, Simon,’ she croaked weakly, ‘is it really you?’
‘Hullo, baby. Yes, it’s me, but you mustn’t try to talk.’
‘I’m not dreaming, am I?’
He smiled, but there were tears in his eyes ‘Not dreaming. Feel.’ He touched her cheek with his hand but, as she turned her head to kiss it, he said, ‘Lie still.’
‘Where am I?’
‘In a draughty ambulance. A bossy old fag’s been bandaging up your hand. You cut it breaking the glass on Cory’s watch in your pocket. Must have been the shock of seeing me. Flattering, I suppose, that I still have that effect on you.’
That wasn’t quite right, but Harriet was too dazed to work out why.
‘Where’s Cory? And the children and everyone?’
‘Stop worrying about other people,’ he said soothingly.
‘Oh, Simon, you do look lovely,’ she sighed.
It was exactly the right thing to have said. He smiled and dipped a lavender silk handkerchief in a mug of water beside her, and gently began to sponge the blood from the side of her face.
