The Enchanted Page 25

  ‘And The Enchanted?’ Millie enquired.

  ‘Pretty solid at twelve to one,’ Grenville replied. ‘Making my sixteens look better by the minute. But who’s backing him – and why, I do wonder? And where’s our trainer gone?’

  The horses were all down at the start now, the last arrivals having their girths checked by the starter’s assistant while the starter himself climbed up on to his rostrum ready to call them into line.

  ‘Where on earth is Rory?’ Grenville wondered again. ‘He’s going to miss the start.’

  Rory was standing alone at one of the Tote windows, the rest of the punters having all placed their bets, as the race was about to start. Rory had the money in his hand, but found himself still unable to do the deed. He was trying to convince himself that because it wasn’t his money there really should be no problem, particularly since it had obviously been deposited in his account as his do-as-you-like fund. But then if it was his father’s and he lost it all, it would matter. At least, according to the way Rory’s mind was working it would – because if he lost it all on one ridiculously chancy gamble there would be no getting out for anyone.

  ‘The starter’s calling them into line …’ he heard a voice announce on the tannoy. ‘They’re under starter’s orders …’

  ‘Fifteen hundred pounds to win horse number nine,’ he heard a voice saying. He saw a hand pushing the money across the counter and under the glass and the operative’s hand taking it. It wasn’t until he had the ticket in his hand that Rory realised the voice, the hand and the money were all his. The bet was on – and the horses were off.

  ‘And on the run to the first it’s Go Fast Carb already in a clear lead,’ he heard the course commentator calling as he ran back to the members’ stand and up the steps to join his group.

  ‘And they’re all over the first,’ the commentator continued. ‘Go Fast Carb landing well clear of Roaring Cavalier in second, third Put Upon who jumped it particularly well, and then a gap to So I Gather, Lilac Daisy, Wender, Please Sir and The Enchanted.’

  ‘So much for riding to orders,’ Rory observed, now he had his glasses up. ‘He must be ten lengths off the leader.’

  ‘They are going a hell of a crack, Rory,’ Grenville replied. ‘But the little horse is certainly not being run off his feet.’

  ‘I really can’t look,’ said Alice’s muffled voice from behind Rory’s back. ‘Will someone please tell me when it’s over?’

  Out on the course itself Blaze thought he was sitting quite pretty, with his horse settled into a nice regular rhythm, jumping the second and third easily enough and lying nicely in about sixth place on the rails, some eight lengths off the leader, who really seemed to have bolted. He knew what his instructions had been, but once the Pope horse shot off like a bolting hare there was no way he was going to kick his horse on after it and waste all that precious energy. He wanted to keep The Enchanted sweet, wanted him to swing along nicely on the bridle, wanted him to have plenty of time to see his fences and plenty of time to take them in his stride. Already the tactics of the jockey up on Go Fast Carb were apparently rattling several of the novices, two of them crashing out at the first open ditch and another falling heavily at the cross fence. By the time they were turning into the home straight for the first time Go Fast Carb had failed to increase his lead although his jockey was shaking his reins and had given him a couple of hard slaps in his attempt to poach the race, while both Put Upon and Roaring Cavalier were still on the bridle and jumping like seasoned horses rather than novices.

  Up the rise into the straight they rode, into the first of three big black fences and past the grandstands, Go Fast Carb’s lead now no more than three lengths over the next two horses, with The Enchanted still biding his time in sixth. But Blaze could see that the two horses immediately in front of him were already labouring, finding the pace too hot and the fences too stiff. At the last fence in the straight they lost So I Gather who nose-dived on landing, his spread-eagling fall then bringing down the already beaten Wender whose rider stepped off in mid-air and managed to land on his feet and running, earning a round of applause from the spectators. Blaze saw the first horse fall and swung The Enchanted to the left, not snatching him up but just easing him to the outside of the fence in order to avoid what he suspected might be carnage on the landing side.

  ‘Did you see that, Rory?’ Grenville asked. ‘The boy rode that fence like a real pro.’

  But Rory was not really looking. He could hardly bear to do so. As far as he could see The Enchanted was still just cantering, but given the pace of the contest he knew it simply could not be so and that he must be kidding himself, indulging in more than a little wishful thinking. So, trying not to let anyone in his group notice, he dropped his race glasses, closed his eyes and began to sing a particularly difficult song to himself in his head.

  All the field bar one had now safely negotiated the water jump positioned somewhat recklessly just before the turn into the back straight, the faller being Please Sir who dropped his legs in the water and slithered to his belly, giving his jockey no chance of staying in the plate. As they swung round the sharp right-hand bend the horse immediately to the left of The Enchanted failed to negotiate the turn and grabbing its bit swerved out across the track towards the slope that led down to the boundary of the course, consequently running out at the next fence.

  ‘Six gone, six still standing,’ Millie remarked. ‘They’re sure not taking any prisoners out there.’

  A weak and watery sun had now come out, shining directly in the eyes of the riders and the horses and making it difficult for them to get a clear view of the fences. Blaze could see fine, but it was bothering two of the leaders who stepped into the bottom of the second fence down the back but somehow managed to get away with it. As for The Enchanted, Blaze didn’t need to look for a stride because the horse under him was foot perfect, finding his own distance from the fences as if he’d been jumping all his life and getting quickly away from them on the other side without losing his rhythm. By the time they had flown the open ditch and picked up two lengths in doing so Blaze knew the little horse was going far and away the best of all of those still racing.

  Again at the cross fence they lost another horse. Blaze had no idea who it was – all he heard was the crash of something heavy hitting the birch and a yelled expletive as the jockey was catapulted over his mount’s head. The Enchanted, on the other hand, had met the tricky fence perfectly, again picking up a good length in the air and landing with ears pricked and still on the bridle. Into the straight now for the last time Go Fast Carb was beginning to tread water and was being reeled in by Put Upon and Roaring Cavalier, who had both now engaged top gear. The Enchanted was lying fourth.

  ‘Time to make a move, I’d say,’ Grenville informed his party. ‘If we’re going to get in the frame.’

  ‘How many more times do they have to go round?’ Constance wanted to know, turning her pocket race glasses on some of the more attractive older gentlemen in the grandstand. ‘I’ve quite lost count.’

  ‘This is it, Connie!’ Lynne called to her over the increasing din. ‘I think these are the last three jumps!’

  ‘I still can’t watch,’ Alice cried, her head buried in Rory’s back, unaware that their trainer also was standing with his head bowed and his eyes still fast closed.

  ‘Hello?’ Millie cried. ‘He’s got a double handful, chaps! He’s cantering all over them!’

  ‘I cannot watch!’ Alice yelled. ‘I cannot bear it!’

  ‘You are going to have to watch, duck!’ Millie shouted back. ‘Your little horse is going like a winner!’

  ‘What?’ Rory said, now forcing himself to look. ‘Bloody hellfire!’ he exclaimed when he saw what was happening. ‘Crikey almighty!’

  Unlike her guv’nor, Kathleen had seen every stride of the race from her perch on the little hill at the end of the grandstand from which the lads always watched their charges, and she had known the outcome of the race as her ho
rse had galloped past her the first time.

  Bar a fall, Boyo, she’d whispered. It’s all yours, Boyo – bar a fall.

  As they ran to the third from home the race was now on in earnest, at least as far as the first three horses were concerned. The three leading jockeys all thought the race lay between them, unaware of the outsider who was lying about four lengths behind them, swinging along as if out for an exercise canter, his rider sitting motionless while the three up front were all kicking, changing their hands, throwing their reins at their horses’ heads, beating their horses regularly – in fact doing everything in their power to win the race. All three rose and cleared the third last together, followed by The Enchanted still four lengths off, but as they landed Put Upon suddenly slowed almost to a halt, his jockey’s silks splashed with blood from the burst vessel the horse had just suffered. The sight of the distressed animal momentarily caught Blaze’s eye as he passed it, causing him temporarily to lose his bearing so that when he turned his attention back to the business of the race he found he was all but running up Roaring Cavalier’s back end as they ran to jump the second last.

  ‘If that horse falls,’ Rory muttered, more to himself than to anybody else, ‘God, we are history. He’ll bring us down for sure.’

  ‘Get away from him, Molloy!’ Grenville yelled fruitlessly. ‘For God’s sake get away!’

  Blaze had seen what was happening in time and if ever his lack of racing experience was to show, this was the moment. Were a jockey to take a pull at this stage and at this pace he could easily unbalance and unsettle his horse, with the result that it might either put down at the fence and so take it by its roots and fall, or simply just panic, balloon the fence and fall on landing. Yet if the rider remained just where he was and the horse right in front of him fell there would be no way of avoiding crashing into it. And the time in hand to make a decision was possibly less than one second.

  In the end Blaze didn’t do a thing, at least nothing physical. All he did was call out something to his horse, something in a language not known to his rivals, and as soon as he heard the call The Enchanted did the rest. Seeing nothing but horse slap bang in front of him and nothing but hedge beyond that, the horse jumped the moment after his adversary did, but instead of rising in a dead straight line he swung himself to the left in mid-air, not enough to throw himself off balance but enough to land clear of Roaring Cavalier, who as it happened didn’t fall but landed well and still running. But The Enchanted landed even better, not crooked and not in the slightest unbalanced, although his evasive action had cost him what normally might well prove to be an all-important length, because as they began their run to the last the little horse was still three or perhaps four off the leading pair, Go Fast Carb and Roaring Cavalier, who were now running neck and neck.

  ‘What’s happening!’ Alice cried. ‘Someone please tell me what’s happening!’

  ‘Oh, for goodness’ sake, Allie!’ Millie shouted back. ‘Take your fingers out of your ears and take a look for yourself!’

  ‘And as they come to the last it’s still Go Fast Carb in the lead but only just!’ the commentator called. ‘Roaring Cavalier is right there with him with The Enchanted now beginning to make significant progress!’

  The din that had swelled to a roar as both the favourites seemed to have the race between them now died considerably as one of the outsiders laid down what in other circumstances would appear to be a hopeless challenge, with the two leaders still four lengths clear at the last and neither of them showing signs of weakening. But the roars were lessening because of the notable ease with which the unknown and unfancied little horse was racing. He was running so easily that, as every seasoned racegoer in the crowd knew, provided he jumped the last as well as he had jumped all the previous fences, this horse was going to win doing cartwheels.

  Blaze knew it, too. As they thundered towards the last he could see the jockey on Go Fast Carb hard at work, giving his mount two sharp ones behind the saddle before he left the ground, while the rider on Roaring Cavalier, who had chosen to come up the rails, was shouting and yelling blue murder for room as Go Fast Carb suddenly swerved across in front of him. The fence was wide open for The Enchanted who stood so far off Blaze thought he was gone and buried and all but closed his eyes. It was the longest and greatest jump he had ever sat on any horse, The Enchanted practically taking off outside the wings and yet landing lengths clear the other side.

  A roar went up from the stands when the racegoers saw it, their indifference now turned to genuine admiration and respect as they realised they might be witnessing the debut of a really special animal. A few more strides were all that were needed to silence anyone still doubting, The Enchanted coming away from the last three lengths down on the leaders who were both still racing flat out, catching them both hand over fist, and in a matter of a few lengthening strides, in the time it took for Rory to put his race glasses back up, in that brief moment the battle was won. Blaze didn’t even have to shake the reins at his mount. He didn’t have to shout at him the way the other two jockeys were berating their brave horses. He didn’t have to touch him. He didn’t have to do anything more than let out the same amount of rein as he had up on the gallops and the race was over. The Enchanted went into top gear and flew.

  ‘It’s The Enchanted now!’ the commentator called. ‘The Enchanted is simply flying! He’s right alongside Go Fast Carb – and he’s past him! He’s flown past Go Fast Carb and Roaring Cavalier! And to add insult to injury he’s putting daylight between himself and the second two! It’s The Enchanted by two, by three, by four lengths now, and Blaze Molloy still hasn’t moved on him! And on the run to the post it’s The Enchanted going away from them still – and it’s The Enchanted – The Enchanted wins by six lengths!’

  The grandstands were buzzing as everyone began discussing what they had just witnessed, while the little group of those who owned him stood in stupefied silence as they tried to come to terms with what they too had just seen.

  ‘What happened?’ a small voice said from somewhere behind Rory.

  ‘He won, that’s what happened, Alice!’ Rory laughed, turning and swinging her round to face him. ‘He’s only gone and won! Didn’t you see any of the race?’

  ‘Not one bit,’ Alice said. ‘I didn’t hear anything, either.’

  ‘Because she had her ears blocked,’ Millie groaned. She turned to her friend. ‘I bet you were singing loudly, too, the way you always did at school when you didn’t want to hear anything.’

  ‘He really did win?’ Alice said, wide-eyed. ‘I mean really? This isn’t all a dream?’

  ‘He not only won, my dear Alice,’ Grenville said, whacking his leg with his hat, ‘he blooming murdered them!’

  ‘Come on,’ Rory said. ‘You lot have got to go down and lead your horse in. Yes, and there’s a cup to be collected too. Wow – yes, this is a very big day, everyone – and oh my heavens above—’

  Rory stopped as if pole-axed as he remembered, as he felt the winning Tote ticket between his fingers in his coat pocket, realising how well and truly this would now see the wretched bank and its equally wretched manager off.

  ‘Oh my goodness gracious me,’ he said again. ‘Right. Yes. Yes – this is really quite a very big day.’

  They made their way down the stands, Alice with her eyes full of tears, arm in arm with Millie who was laughing her head off, Grenville still beating himself up with his trilby, and Constance now singing at the top of her voice.

  ‘We’ve got a horse right here!’ she sang. ‘And he’s a little dear!’

  ‘Of course it’s only a novice chase so it could mean anything,’ a rather mean-faced military-looking man was saying behind them. ‘The horse was carrying seven pound less than any of the others, and for God’s sake, have you seen the way it’s bred? Or rather isn’t? No, I don’t think we have to go getting carried away here, do you know?’

  ‘Pooh,’ Constance said, turning round to him. ‘You’re talking twaddle. And
you look quite as silly as you sound.’

  ‘Here are the Tote returns on the last race to a pound stake,’ an announcement rang out over the tannoy. ‘Horse number nine – win nineteen pounds seventy, place three pounds fifty …’

  The rest of the prices were lost to the group who with the exception of Constance had all backed the horse, Grenville on the rails and Alice, Millie and Lynne on the Tote – and of course Rory as well.

  ‘Eighteen and a half to one, old chap,’ Grenville said to Rory. ‘And the best I could do was sixteens. So two and a half points better on the Tote – except— poor chap.’ Grenville suddenly stopped and pulled a sympathetic face at Rory. ‘Of course. Poor Rory. You didn’t have a bet, did you?’

  ‘No – no I didn’t,’ Rory answered with perfect candour. ‘I didn’t have a bet personally. But my father did.’

  There was a terrific buzz around the winners’ enclosure as the crowd waited for The Enchanted to be led in. To the side of the pen where the victorious horse would stand was a small dais on which stood a table bearing a large silver cup, while photographers and press hurried back from the course and down from the press room ready to fire questions at the winning trainer and take pictures of the winner.

  ‘I think Constance should accept the cup on our behalf,’ Alice suggested. ‘If that’s all right with everyone else?’

  ‘Absolutely,’ Grenville agreed, although he had been just about to propose that Lynne accept the cup, hoping thus to give an added boost to his chances there. ‘I couldn’t think of anyone better.’

  ‘Will I have to speak?’ Constance wondered, looking round at the gathering crowd. ‘I would really rather not, don’t you know.’

  ‘You absolutely do not have to speak, Constance,’ Rory assured her, still unable to believe what had just happened and afraid to pinch himself just in case. ‘Just smile and accept the cup, that’s all. Just be your lovely gracious self.’