Kevin clones were everywhere, with thatched hair and lightweight and light-colored suits. The wives also all seemed to wear beige or pastel suits. Many wore hats on the back of their heads, with too much hair showing at the front, and high heels which kept catching on the raffia matting and sinking into the damp earth beneath.
Enid Coley, in a brown check suit and yellow shirt with a pussycat bow, was not the only one who looked disapprovingly at Janey’s jeans and rugger shirt. I don’t care, I don’t care, thought Janey. I’m eleven days late, and I’m going to have a baby. The little Coley children or the Sprats, as Billy called them, had all been at the bottle and were rushing around being poisonous. I’ll never let my children grow up like that, Janey thought to herself. Kevin put her between two directors’ wives who were eating strawberries and cream.
“The gardens aren’t as good as the ones at Buckingham Palace,” said one.
“No,” said the second, “although I didn’t really notice the ones at Buckingham Palace the first time I went.”
Next moment Helen walked into the tent looking like a million dollars in an off-white canvas suit and flat dark brown boots.
“I’m real sorry I couldn’t make lunch. You did get the message, didn’t you? But with young kids, it’s so difficult to get away,” she said to Kevin and Enid, who looked as though they’d been kissed under the mistletoe. Enid, pink with pleasure, took Helen on a tour of the more important clients. Helen was so nice to all of them. Then suddenly she saw Janey and her face lit up.
“Janey, how lovely. I didn’t know whether you’d be able to get away.”
“We were just saying the BSJA ought to club together and buy you a bra, Janey,” said Enid Coley.
Later, Janey sat in the riders’ stand with Helen watching the big class. She had been pleased with her rugger shirt and jeans until she saw Helen’s suit, which was French and cost at least ?300. When they had walked through the crowds earlier, all the men had stared at Helen, so Janey had taken her dark glasses off, so people could see her sexy, slanting eyes, but they still looked at Helen, so she took off her denim jacket to show off her splendid bosom, but they still looked at Helen. Why the hell couldn’t Billy be as rich as Rupert, so she could afford decent clothes? She was still furious with Kev, who was sitting on her other side. In the next-door stand, he had booked seats for all his frightful clients, who clapped and shrieked when riders fell off, and cheered before rounds were finished, and stood up and took pictures all the time, to the rage of the people sitting behind them.
“Isn’t Kev hell?” she whispered to Helen. “I bet he streaks his chest hair.”
“I think he’s charming,” said Helen, in surprise.
Billy’s stomach was killing him, like a giant clenching a huge fist in his gut. The only answer, as Kevin was safely in the riders’ stand, was to nip into the bar for a couple of quick doubles.
“Those hangover pills you gave me aren’t doing much,” he grumbled to Rupert, when he got back to the collecting ring.
“I should think not,” said Rupert. “They’re for backache. D’you know, I really think Tab is very bright. She smiled at me today. They don’t usually smile till three months.”
“Lucky you. Janey’s not smiling at me.”
Suddenly, Billy thought of the shaved bush under those jeans and, overwhelmed with lust, he waved at Janey. Janey ignored him.
It was a tough course. Ludwig went clear. Two Americans, just arrived and accustoming themselves to European fences in anticipation of the World Championships, went clear. The usual mighty roar of applause went up as Billy and The Bull rode into the ring. All Kevin’s guests stood up to take photographs.
“My husband may not be the most successful, but he’s certainly the most popular rider in England,” said Janey, shooting a venomous look at Kevin, who was tugging at his goalpost mustache and twisting his initial bracelet.
“Come on, Billy. Come on, The Bull,” yelled the crowd. They too refused to adopt Moggie Meal Al.
“I can’t bear to look,” said Janey, and didn’t, continuing to talk to Helen about straight-legged jeans.
Billy was clear and jumping beautifully, until he came to the penultimate fence, when a great cheer went up from the Moggie Meal contingent and distracted The Bull, who jumped the wing instead of the fence and, catching his front leg, went head over heels. The Moggie Meal supporters let out piercing shrieks and started clicking their cameras frantically.
Billy was unhurt and managed to hang on to the reins, getting up and running like mad after a thoroughly rattled Bull. Nearly crashing into a flag, Billy picked it up and waved it in mock fury at The Bull, who backed away in terror. Billy started to laugh, threw down the flag, snatched up a handful of grass, and gave it to The Bull, reducing the crowd to fits of laughter. Vaulting onto The Bull’s back, he cantered out of the ring, grinning broadly.
That’s two grand up the spout, thought Janey. I don’t know what he’s got to look so cheerful about.
Billy came into the stand, kissed Helen hello, and sat down between her and Janey.
“Sorry, Kev,” he said.
Janey caught a waft of whisky and hoped it didn’t reach Kevin. After two minutes, Billy got to his feet.
“Who’d like a drink?”
“Not for me,” said Kevin Coley pointedly.
“Nor me,” said Helen, standing up. “I must go and ring Bergita. Has anyone got any change?”
“Be my guest,” said Kevin Coley, going pink again as he handed her the coins.
“That’s what I call a real lady,” said Kevin as Helen made her way along the row, thanking everyone for getting up.
“As opposed to me,” muttered Janey to herself, crossly.
“Pity she doesn’t come to shows more often. But then she’s such a caring mother,” Kevin went on.
Janey looked stonily down at the collecting ring, where a black-haired rider was walking towards a girl groom, with long mousy hair, who was leading a large gray horse.
“Who’s that? He’s attractive,” she said to Billy.
“That’s Jake Lovell,” said Billy. “I was telling you about him last night. And that groom’s his sister-in-law, Fenella Maxwell. She won a novice class this morning and she’s only sixteen. She’s bloody good. Jake’s trained her really well. Isn’t she pretty?”
“She’s certainly a most attractive young lady,” said Kev.
“I’m surprised you can tell for the spots,” said Janey.
“Meow,” said Kevin.
“Oh, go eat your own product,” snapped Janey.
She went downstairs to the loo. She really must stop being a cow. Glancing at her reflection under the fluorescent lighting, she thought how awful she looked, piggy-eyed and shadowed. She did hope she wasn’t going to be one of those women who felt sick for nine months. As she sat on the loo, she felt the sudden cold on her shaven bush. Just to convince herself, she slipped her finger between her legs, then pressed it against the white gloss lavatory wall. She couldn’t believe it. She reached further into her vagina, pushing against the neck of the womb. She pressed the white wall again. It was unmistakable: a second dark red fingerprint. She gave a groan, tears spilling out of her eyes. She was wracked with despair. Oh, God, the red badge of discouragement. It was so ironic. Before she was married, the red fingerprint was all she craved; she’d been so terrified all the time of getting pregnant. Now she knew why it was called the curse, the curse of not having babies. She leant against the wall and cried and cried.
Twenty minutes later she came out of the loo, huddled behind her dark glasses. Kevin was waiting outside. “Where the hell have you been? Billy was looking for you. He’s just about to jump Moggie Meal Dick. He told me to tell you. What’s the matter?” He lifted off her dark glasses. “Why are you crying?”
“Nothing, it’s nothing.”
“Worried about money?”
Her lip trembled. “I thought I was pregnant. I was ten days late, you see. I’ve just discovered I’m not.”
“Been trying long?”
“About eighteen months. Since we married, really.”
“May not be your fault.”
Janey gave a bitter laugh. “Billy’s mother thinks it is.”
Kevin looked at her thoughtfully.
“Enid’s got a first-rate gynecologist. I’ll tell her to give you a ring.”
Mandryka got four faults and was out of the running. Rupert was first, Jake Lovell second. It was noticed that
