“What’s that?” said Marion suspiciously.
“An ancient Romany recipe,” said Jake, opening the jar. “Steady boy, I’m going to make you better.” Gently he began to rub the ointment into the weals.
Macaulay trembled and flinched but did not move away; he seemed to understand that Jake was trying to help him.
“He’d never let Rupert do that,” said Marion.
“Who stopped him?”
“Billy did.”
“Malise know?”
“No, and with Rupert’s luck he won’t find out. Macaulay’ll be in his box tomorrow. Rupert’s riding Belgravia in the Grand Prix, and Mayfair in the class before. The day after, we’re flying back to England first thing. He’s a lovely horse, but Rupert’s ruined him. He’ll sell him on now. Can’t bear to be faced with anything that makes him feel guilty. Helen’ll go mad. Macaulay’s the only horse she’s interested in, because he named him after her.”
Having treated the last cut, Jake patted the horse. Then, perhaps because he was more than a little drunk, he said, “Leave him to rest; come and have a drink.”
Marion looked at Jake’s expressionless face. He was like one of those birthday cards left blank so you could write your own message. “All right,” she said. “I’m sorry I nicked your breeches.”
“That’s okay. I knew Rupert put you up to it.”
“He’s really got it in for you.”
“Makes two of us. I’ve really got it in for him.”
They never got to the bar.
“Rupert would really fire me if he could see me now,” said Marion.
“Well, he’ll certainly hear you if you don’t keep your voice down; they’re in the next-door bedroom.”
Marion laughed. “I gave in my notice today anyway.”
“You going to leave?” asked Jake, unbuttoning her white shirt.
“I’ve given it in so often he probably didn’t believe me.”
Accustomed exclusively over the last five years to Tory’s bulk, Jake could hardly believe the slenderness of Marion’s thighs or the springy breasts which didn’t collapse under her armpits when she lay down. For a few minutes he stroked her body as wonderingly as if she were a ?50,000 thoroughbred, and when he kissed her he was enchanted by the skill and enthusiasm of her response. They broke away. She smiled at him, touching a gold earring.
“Are you really a gypsy?”
“Half,” said Jake.
She ran her tongue along the lifeline of his hand. “I’m crossing your palm with saliva.”
It was a feeble joke but they both had to bury their faces in the pillow to muffle their laughter. Both got an extra buzz from knowing how angry Rupert would be if he could see them. Jake was small, thin, and not very handsome but his hands had a magical effect on Marion, soothing away all the tensions and frustrations she’d been bottling up since Rupert married Helen. Rupert’s lovemaking was aggressive, like a power drill — her Campbell- Black and Decker, she used to call him. She enjoyed it only because Rupert was so wildly attractive and she melted at his slightest touch. Jake was gentle, considerate, yet seemed by comparison extraordinarily detached.
In fact Jake was extremely attracted to Marion and very glad he was able to prevent himself coming too soon by working out a plan of action.
Afterwards, when they lay sated in each other’s arms, Marion said, “That was wonderful. Who would have thought it? You’re not looking for a groom, are you?”
“I couldn’t pay you as much as Rupert, and you’d distract me too much.”
“You totally ignored me all week.”
“That was deliberate. I hated you for being part of Rupert’s entourage and you’re so good-looking you irritated the hell out of me.”
“Prettier than Helen?”
“Much.” He knew that was the judgment that would win her over.
“I wish Rupert thought so, the bastard.”
“Is he faithful to her?”
“At the moment. I think he’s rather captivated by the idea of his own fidelity. It’s such a novelty. But they’ve hardly had a night apart since they’ve been married, and she sticks like a leech. Wait till she gets pregnant and can’t go everywhere with him. That’s when the trouble’s going to start. He can’t do without it.”
“Nor can I, by all events,” muttered Jake.
“Look,” he said, pushing her hair back from her forehead, “you’re fond of Macaulay, aren’t you?”
“Yes, I love him.”
“All you have to do is to let me know when Rupert’s selling him.”
“He’d never sell him on to you.”
“Perhaps not, but someone else could buy him for me.”
“He’s too strong for you. Rupert can only just hold him, and he’s a sod in the stable.”
“I don’t control horses by brute strength,” said Jake, “and my guess is that he won’t jump for Rupert anymore.”
“Have you got a nice wife?” asked Marion, hoping he’d make love to her again.
“Very,” said Jake.
“Rupe said you married her for money.”
“Doesn’t stop her being nice.”
“Don’t you feel guilty?”
“No,” said Jake. “This is my reward for a double clear.”
19
Amonth later Jake Lovell drove through the warm June evening doing sums. Late the previous night, Marion had rung him from a call box to tip him off about a horse called Revenge.
“He’s a sod, but a brilliant one, and you’d better hurry. Rupert’s after him too.”
Wasting no time, Jake had driven all the way down to Surrey to look at the horse, and he liked what he saw. Jake was seldom cheated when buying a horse. His stint with the gypsies had stood him in good stead. They taught him that dealers often disguise lameness, deliberately laming the opposite leg by shoeing it wrong, that they put black marks on a horse’s teeth with hot wires so it’ll pass for a six-year-old, or even shove mustard up its rectum so the animal prances along with its tail up in a travesty of high spirits. They had also taught him never to be carried away by a horse’s looks.
He had to confess, however, that Revenge was the handsomest horse he’d ever seen, a showy red chestnut with a zigzag blaze, a mane and tail that looked as if they’d been dipped in peroxide, and an air of intense self- importance. He had been bought by a doting millionaire for his daughter, when she suddenly decided she wanted to take up show jumping. Revenge had turned out far too strong for her. Allowed to get away with murder, he had learnt to buck and spin at the same time, and tried to drag Jake off under some low-hanging oaks at the top of the field. On the other hand, he had jumped a line of large fences without effort, landing like a cat, and showing not only an ability to get himself out of trouble, but incredible powers of acceleration.
Jake ached all over where the horse had had him off three times, but he still wanted him. Unfortunately, George Masters, the dealer, wanted ?5,000, which Jake hadn’t got. He’d just sold two of his best novices in order to put down the deposit on the indoor school. The balance on this would be due by the end of the summer.
Darklis, the new baby girl, was adorable, but she meant more work for Tory. Isa, jealous and playing up, needed extra attention, which meant Tory had less and less time for the horses. Tanya, the one groom, was hopelessly overworked. Jake desperately needed another groom, but to pay her he needed to go to more shows and
