The Prize (14 page)

“What difference does it make?” Daisy said. “You're not going to the Firecracker anyway. You've split up with Riley!”

Georgie looked across the dining table at Daisy and resisted the urge to throw her morning porridge at her.

“Firstly,” she said, “It's not just Riley's race, OK? Marco is in it too and he used to be my horse and I want to see him run.” She paused. “And secondly, I haven't split up with Riley. We are on a break, that's all.”

Daisy raised an eyebrow at the other girls sitting with them at the table. Emily and Alice both said nothing.

“A break?” Daisy continued. “And how long has it been since you began this ‘break'?” Daisy did air quotes as she said this.

“A month,” Georgie admitted.

“Uh-huh,” Daisy said. “And how many times have you spoken to him since then?”

“Umm, roughly?” Georgie said.

“Roughly.”

“None.”

Georgie had called every day but Riley refused to pick up the phone. And, no matter how many messages she left, he wasn't calling her back.

The rule at Badminton House was two phone calls a day. On Saturday Georgie had already exhausted her quota for the day, but she was so desperate to talk to Riley she decided to ignore the rules and resolved to dial him a third time. She was heading out of the room to sneak to the boarding-house phone when Alice came back in and caught her.

“Ohmygod,” she shook her head. “Please tell me you aren't about to go and leave another message on Riley's answerphone.”

“No,” Georgie lied.

Then, suddenly she had a better idea. “No actually, I'm going out.”

“What do you mean? Out where?”

“I'm taking Belle for a road hack,” Georgie said.

“Oh,” Alice said. “I'll come with you if you want. Caspian could do with a hack.”

“Sorry, Alice,” Georgie said. “I need to go alone.”

As she tacked Belle up in the stables, Georgie began to think her plan was crazy. If Riley didn't even want to speak to her over the phone, what made her think that he wanted to see her? But she didn't care any more. She was desperate to tell him how she felt – no matter what happened.

It had been a long time since she'd taken Belle out of the school grounds. The mare had her head held high as they rode through the silver and blue gates of the Academy and out on to the road, her ears pricked forward as she looked around. Georgie kept her on a short contact at first, but after they'd been out on the roads for a while, she relaxed the reins and Belle began to swing along, enjoying the outing. It was a sunny summer day and the Kentucky countryside was glorious. The fields went on forever, the white plank fencelines merging into one another. Every road seemed to look the same, but Georgie knew the route she was taking. She turned down one back road and then another, past more white plank fencelines and elegant horse farms until she reached the farm with a pale green beaten-up mailbox at the front gate.

As she rode down the driveway of Clemency Farm Georgie realised she might have come all this way for nothing. Riley might not even be here today at his father's stables.

“Hello?” She rode Belle into the yard, but there didn't seem to be anyone around. Then she heard the sound of hoof beats. There was a galloper out on the dirt track at the back of the farm. Dismounting, she led Belle around the back of the stables. Out on the track she could see a rider working his horse around the broad loop of the circuit. The rider was heading away from the stables to the far end of the track. He was a hunched figure, his body bent down low over the horse's withers. The horse he was riding was a chestnut with a white blaze and Georgie recognised him straight away. It was Marco, and that was Riley up there on his back.

As the horse and the rider looped back around the track towards the stables, Georgie wasn't certain if Riley had seen her or not. He stayed motionless on Marco's back, letting the horse run at his own pace. Georgie could tell that he was just breezing the gelding – letting him gallop, but not pushing him to go into top speed. With the race now just a week away he would have a training schedule mapped out to the very last detail and this trackwork would have been meticulously planned.

The track at the back of the Clemency Farm stables was a makeshift affair, not quite full-sized, so Riley had to keep the horse galloping for an extra half a loop to make the right distance. Then, when Marco had passed the furlong post, he slowed the gelding up and began to trot him around the track, doing the full loop to cool him down. He was walking the horse by the time he came around for the second time and dismounted. He had seen Georgie now and she knew it – but he hadn't given her a wave. Suddenly she felt like it had been a ridiculous idea to come here. What had she expected? That Riley would be thrilled to see her?

Finally, the boy led the horse off the track and with Georgie right there waiting at the gate he had no choice but to acknowledge her.

“Hey, Georgie.”

“Hey, Riley,” she smiled at him. “Marco's looking good.”

Riley nodded, “He's going OK.”

There was an uncomfortable pause that became an even more uncomfortable silence and then, just when it was unbearable, both of them tried to speak at once.

“I was…”

“Hey…”

“You go ahead,” Georgie managed to stammer.

“No,” Riley said. “You talk first. You've come here so I'm guessing you've got something to say.”

Ever since the day they broke up, Georgie had been rehearsing her lines in her head, thinking of exactly what to say if Riley had ever picked up the phone.

Riley stared at her expectantly. Georgie could feel her heart racing.

“I do have something to say,” she paused.

“I… umm… I… I think you should hold Marco back.”

“What?” Riley frowned.

“You should hold him back. Let him lose the race,” Georgie said.

“You came here to tell me that I should let Marco lose the Firecracker?” Riley shook his head. “That's really funny, Georgie!”

“Not the whole race, obviously!” Georgie said. “But I've been thinking about the Hanley Stakes and the way The Rainmaker beat him that day. Marco was in the lead all the way until the final furlong, right? And then The Rainmaker took him in the home stretch. But that's because Marco didn't know he was coming. If you hold Marco back and let him look that big black stallion in the eye, then Marco will want to beat him. I know he will. If you let The Rainmaker pull away out in front of Marco and then at the last minute let him go, he'll fight back. He'll run him down.”

Riley raised an eyebrow. “That's what you came here to tell me?”

Georgie looked down at the ground. “There was some other stuff I was going to say, about being in love with you and all that, but yeah, mostly it was about Marco.”

“Oh,” Riley said. “Right. Good.”

Georgie was kind of hoping he might say something more than that. But Riley just paused then handed Marco's reins over to her. “Here – hold him for a minute. I've got to go and get something.”

He returned from the stables with a brown paper envelope in his hand which he thrust at Georgie.

Georgie opened it. Inside she could see a peek of gold-embossed card.

“They're invitations to the owners' enclosure at the Churchill Downs Racecourse,” Riley said. Georgie saw the words Firecracker Handicap were emblazoned at the top. The date of the race was also there and sure enough it was next Saturday – the same date as the showjumping at the Kentucky Horse Park.

“I booked them for you ages ago. There are four tickets so you can bring the girls with you,” Riley said. “Mom and Dad already have their tickets so you can sit with them.”

Georgie up at Riley. “So you still want me to come?”

Riley nodded. “I'm sorry I didn't pick up the phone when you called. I just needed some time to think. But whenever I hear your voice on my answerphone all I can think is how much I miss you. You're my best friend, Georgie.”

“You're mine too.”

“It really hurt, you know, finding out about you and Conrad.”

“It was a stupid mistake,” Georgie said, “and I'm so, so, sorry. Is there a chance we can put it behind us?”

Riley raked a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I can do that,” he said.

Then he added, “So you'll come and watch me race?”

He noticed the anxious look on her face. “Is there something wrong, Georgie? You don't have other plans that day, do you?”

Chapter Fourteen

G
eorgie shifted anxiously in her seat and looked out the window of the horse truck. It was still dark outside, the dawn light was only just beginning to seep across the pastures as they approached the Kentucky Horse Park. So far the morning routine had gone like clockwork and they were on schedule to reach the grounds by six am. In the back of the truck Dominic's second-string horses – Banner, The Optimist, Flair and Navajo – were rugged and bandaged for the journey. She had the horses manes plaited and their tails pulled. The tack was organised into labelled sections for each horse and she had the studs ready to fit into their shoes as soon as she unloaded them.

To do all of this in time for the competition today Georgie had worked until midnight the night before, packing out the truck and grooming the horses. Then she had set her alarm next to a cot bed in the stables, and hunkered down in her jods with a sleeping bag, using her jumper for a pillow. She slept until four am when she had forced herself to get up again and started work once more.

Getting four manes fully plaited in two hours had been hard work, but what other choice did she have? This was the way it had to be if she wanted to watch Riley in the Firecracker this afternoon.

Georgie knew how Dominic Blackwell's mind worked. If she had asked him for the day off on Saturday to go watch her boyfriend race he would never have agreed. Instead, on Friday afternoon, she had phrased her proposition in a way that Blackwell could understand.

“I need a couple of hours off on Saturday afternoon,” she said. “I know it's a competition day, but it won't interfere with your riding. I won't leave the showgrounds until one pm and I'll be back again in time to load the horses and take them home. I'll get everything prepared down to the last detail so that the horses are totally ready – Kennedy won't need to do a thing apart from tack a couple of them up for you. You won't even miss me, and I promise that I'll work all of Sunday for the Grand Prix and the Mirror Jumping to make up for it.”

“I don't know…” Dominic looked uncertain about losing his best groom, even for an hour or two.

“Please, Dominic,” Georgie begged. “Everything will go fine without me. I'll leave written instructions for Kennedy. Saturday is just the mid-grade jumping anyway – it's the Sunday that really matters.”

Dominic Blackwell sighed. “All right. You can go. But not until I've jumped in the one-thirty class on Navajo. I want you to warm her up for me.”

If Georgie left the Kentucky Horse Park at two she would be cutting it fine to make it to Riley's race. But it could be done. And if that was the deal that Dominic Blackwell was putting on the table, then she should take it.

“Thank you, Dominic,” she had replied. “I won't let you down.”

The atmosphere at the Kentucky Horse Park that morning was bright and friendly. As this was a mid-grade tournament for the professional riders it was a low-key day. The metre-ten class was now underway but Dominic refused point-blank to ride his horses in it.

“Blackwell doesn't leave the horse truck for less than a metre-twenty,” he had pointed out snootily when Georgie had asked him why the horses weren't entered in the competition. “It's beneath me.”

Georgie was so over-prepared she actually had a spare half-hour to watch the final riders compete in the metreten class before she went back to the truck, finished tacking up The Optimist and vaulted onboard to begin the horse's warm-up.

When her boss emerged from the horse truck in his red jacket and high black boots Georgie was all ready and waiting for him.

Dominic Blackwell looked impressed with Georgie's fine-tuned timing. And when he took The Optimist into the ring and jumped a clear round on the chestnut gelding, he came back to the truck in a good mood.

“He's going nicely today,” he said to Georgie, flinging her the reins. “Cool him down for me, will you?”

Georgie couldn't believe how seamlessly the whole day was going. Team Blackwell was a well-oiled machine, even though she was only one doing the work. Kennedy had pretty much done nothing all day, sitting on the back ramp of the truck on a pile of horse rugs in the sunshine reading
Vogue
magazine. She'd had less than no interest in helping – which suited Georgie just fine. The last thing she needed was Kennedy messing things up. Right now, Dominic Blackwell's horses were all performing brilliantly, he was scooping up the prizes in every category and for once he didn't seem to have any complaints about anything.

At one o'clock, Georgie tacked up Navajo for her jumping class. The mare was looking spectacular. Georgie had really worked hard on her mane and she had a perfect row of well-sewn plaits. She had bandaged her legs with white bandages and put on a matching white saddlecloth.

As she mounted up, Georgie looked at her watch. For the next twenty minutes, Georgie would ride the warm-up on the mare and then, as soon as she handed her over to Dominic Blackwell, she would grab her bag, give Kennedy her list of instructions and climb into Kenny's waiting pick-up truck and high-tail it to Churchill Downs for The Firecracker Handicap.

It was hard to focus on warming up Navajo when all she could think about was the clock ticking and the fact that she couldn't wait to leave. Georgie had to really force herself to concentrate on working the mare in. She did canter work to loosen up, then brought her back and did lots of transitions from canter to walk and even a few rein-backs to keep Navajo on her toes. Finally, she popped the mare over the practice jump a couple of times until she felt confident that the horse was ready.

The clock said one twenty-five. She rode the mare on a loose rein back to the horse truck. As she got closer she could see the red pick-up truck. Kenny was there waiting for her, just like he'd promised he would be. And Dominic Blackwell was waiting too.

“Ah, Georgie, excellent!” he said as she vaulted off and handed him Navajo's reins. “How is she feeling?”

“She's warmed-up,” Georgie replied. “I'm just going to grab my things now. I'll be back here by five.”

Dominic Blackwell stuck out his bottom lip and frowned. “Err, no,” he said. “No, I don't think so.”

Georgie did a double-take. “What do you mean?”

“I've changed my mind,” Dominic Blackwell said. “I still have two more classes this afternoon so I'd prefer it if you stayed.”

Georgie felt her heart slamming against her chest, pounding hard and fast. He had to be kidding!

“But Dominic!” She struggled to control the anxiety in her voice. “We discussed this yesterday. I planned everything around this. You said if I did everything that I could go!”

“Did I?” Dominic Blackwell said airily. “Well, as I said, I've changed my mind.”

There was the click of a car door as Kenny got out of the pick-up truck. He'd heard Georgie's cries of protest and realised that something was wrong. At the back of the horse truck, Kennedy had risen from her comfy position on the horse rugs to see what was going on.

“You made a promise.” Georgie was outraged. “I've got everything running perfectly. You have to let me go.”

“Firstly,” Dominic Blackwell raised a silencing hand to her, “I don't expect my grooms to raise their voices to me, Georgie. And secondly, I don't have to do anything. I want you here – so you're staying.”

“But you don't even need me!” Georgie tried to appeal to Dominic, “Kennedy can cover for me.”

“Don't be ridiculous!” Dominic snapped, “Kennedy is a waste of space! I need a proper groom!”

“Hey!” Kennedy said. “I'm standing right here!”

“Oh, wise up, Kennedy,” Dominic turned to her. “Despite the fact that you are as useless as a pet rock you're still getting a pass mark for your apprenticeship, your stepmother has taken care of that. But let's not kid ourselves here – you're not head girl material.”

“I've got the horses all ready, Dominic,” Georgie insisted. “It's only two classes this afternoon. Even Kennedy can handle that!”

Dominic shook his head. “Blackwell doesn't approve,” he said firmly. “You're staying, Georgie. That's final.”

“No,” Georgie said. “It isn't.”

She jumped up the steps of the horse truck and grabbed her bag off the kitchen bench. Then she grabbed the handwritten note that was lying beside it and thrust this at Kennedy.

“Here are your instructions. The next class is at three – you'll need to have Flair tacked up for that.”

“What are you doing?” Dominic Blackwell's eyes widened. “I told you, Georgie, you're not leaving.”

“Really?” Georgie said stomping towards Kenny's pick-up, “Then why are my feet walking in this direction?”

“Georgie!” Dominic Blackwell shouted after her. “If you go now that's it! Blackwell will not stand for it! Blackwell will fail you!”

Georgie stopped in her tracks. She turned back around, her whole body trembling. “Well, go ahead!” she said. “Georgie doesn't care. Georgie is outta here!”

And with that, she threw her bag on to the back of the pick-up and clambered onboard. “Let's go, Kenny,” she said. “Take me to Churchill Downs.”

Georgie had never seen a racetrack on race day before. In her mind, she'd imagined it would be like Keeneland Park on those mornings when she'd ridden trackwork with Riley. But this was nothing like that. This was racing at full throttle, loud and glamorous. Instead of old jerseys and jeans, the jockeys wore the brightly coloured silks that denoted their stables, and their horses, also dressed in their stable colours, were led by handlers as they paraded in the birdcage beside the track. Thousands of spectators crammed into the stands around the concourse, all hollering and waving their tickets in the air as the horses galloped around the track and came down to the wire of the finish line.

The race-goers were dressed to the hilt and the best dressed of all were gathered on the fifth floor of the grandstands. This was the famed ‘Millionaires Row' – the most exclusive private seating area in the whole of Churchill Downs. Here, the rich and the famous rubbed shoulders with royalty. Kenny had led Georgie here after a quick pit stop at the ladies loo where she had got changed in a cubicle, wiggling out of her Blainford uniform and pulling on the fabulous yellow Chanel sundress that Alice had kindly lent her again. Kenny, on the other hand, was still in his usual attire – a pair of dirty old Wrangler jeans, and a ripped plaid shirt.

“It's OK,” he said to the security guard on the entrance as he handed him the ticket. “I'm not coming in. This is for the young lady.”

He gave Georgie a grin. “You go ahead and have fun. Millionaires' Row ain't my scene. Riley needs me down at the stables.”

Have fun!
Georgie would far rather be down at the stables too. The room was swarming with women in brilliantly coloured cocktail dresses and enormous hats, and men dressed in sharp suits. Some were in top hats and morning suits like they wore in the pictures she'd seen of the races at Ascot. The room was buzzing with energy and excitement as they drank champagne and sat at tables with waiters hovering around them offering food on silver trays.