As the doctor said, it was little short of a miracle.
A few days later, however, when Tory was definitely out of danger, Jake was persuaded downstairs to see Garfield Boyson.
“Well, lad,” said Boyson.
“Well,” said Jake.
“You’ve made a right cock-up of your career, haven’t you?”
“I don’t need anyone else to tell me.”
“I gather you’ve been to see every other sponsor, touting for business. Didn’t come to me. Not much faith, have you? I said I’d keep my side of the bargain, if you kept yours, and you did. You got your medal. I’m still ready to back you.” “The BSJA are going to suspend me.”
“Happens they won’t. Under the circs, you may get off with a hefty fine.” “I’m not interested,” said Jake. “I’m not going back on the circuit. I’m going to train instead. I don’t want to leave Tory or the children anymore, and Dino and Fen are going back to the States.” Looking out of the kitchen window, he saw Fen ride into the yard and collapse off Macaulay and into Dino’s arms. He wouldn’t have believed it was possible for anyone to go on kissing for so long. Boyson brought him back to earth.
“You’ll be looking for riders, then. My lad can be your first jockey.” Jake looked skeptical, so Boyston went on: “I’ve just had a look at Africa’s foal. Dino said she jumped six foot out of her field this morning.” Jake laughed for the first time since the night he won his silver.
“I suppose you’re trying to tell me that she and your boy’ll be ready for the next Olympics,” he said.
