Riding the Storm (8 page)

He steered his wheelchair out into the hall and sped towards the newly installed lift. It had cost a fortune and – in his opinion – made the house look like a cheap hotel, but at least it meant that he could go and come as he pleased on all levels and even out to the stables if he wished. Not that he had been going there much at all lately. But all that must change. It made his stomach twist with jealousy to see Ryan working so contentedly with Hunter’s Moon, cementing a bond with the horse he had worked so hard to reclaim.

Upstairs in his study, he gave full rein to the temper building inside him and threw his old-fashioned brass desk set at the wall. Fortunately, the ink had long since dried in the wells but it landed on the floor with a satisfying crash. He waited to see if Val had heard and would come to investigate but there was no sound from below or clatter of footsteps on the stairs.

Women! For the first time in his life his decisions and wishes were being overruled by a whole bunch of them; his wife, his daughter and the females they hired to nurse him. At least he’d had a bit of fun there – intimidating those silly girls.

But he had made some progress; he didn’t need a nurse any more. And now it was time to take his life back. His power. He was still in his prime, after all, and if he could no longer order the world as he used to do, he might as well give up and die.

What enraged him more than anything was this latest ploy. Without consulting him, they had brought Ryan, that upstart insolent Queenslander, to live not just in Melbourne but right here in his own home. Then, adding insult to injury, they allowed him to take charge of Hunter’s Moon – the horse he had taken so many risks to possess. Here in his very own stables, right under his nose. It made him angry to the point of feeling sick.

Then the solution came to him like a bolt from the blue. Why hadn’t he thought of it before? He wasn’t helpless or impotent – not at all. There was still something he could do. After all, the plan had worked once – why not again? He had been passive and acquiescent long enough. It was high time he took up the reins and made people sit up and listen; he was no longer prepared to take a back seat and let womenfolk order his life. No, sir!

Although Val was a doormat these days, he had been fond of her once, especially when he believed she might give him a son. But she was long past her best now and putting on weight. She was all too predictable and he was bored with her. Yes, Robert. No, Robert. Whatever you say, Robert – always trying to please him. When he looked at her now, he felt only mild irritation.

He smiled, recalling how he’d made her pay for her little adventure, over and over again. He could scarcely believe that Val, who had always seemed so timid and thoroughly under
his thumb, had actually found the courage to have an affair. It made him wonder about Chrissie, who had appeared so quickly after their wedding. He saw nothing of himself in the girl – she was all Valerie with that dark hair and big, brown Welsh eyes. And there had never been any love lost between them – she despised him and, in turn, he had always made it plain that he would have preferred a son. He’d spent little time with her when she was small and she’d never been a Daddy’s girl. But of course she had to be his; vanity wouldn’t let him travel too far down any other path. He sighed, thinking it a pity the girl’s marriage had fallen through. She was a bad influence on her mother and he’d been looking forward to having her gone from his life.

He glanced around his study, thinking he hadn’t spent much time there lately. That must be remedied: he would take charge of his life again, making his presence felt; he’d been an invalid long enough. It was obvious that the room was cleaned regularly and was a lot tidier than he remembered leaving it; his usual pile of papers stacked neatly in the in tray rather than strewn about the desk. His heart lurched as he thought of his private filing cabinet, hoping it hadn’t been tampered with, and was relieved to find it still locked and untouched. The keys looked untouched as well, still lying in a small pile of dust inside a Chinese vase that he had told everyone was so valuable and so rare, it must never be handled.

Yes, it was high time he made something happen; something that would make them all sit up and realize he was back. So what if he was short-tempered and sometimes had lapses of memory; he could get past all that.

He unlocked the cabinet and looked for the old diary where
he kept his most important numbers – those of minor politicians who owed him a favour, shady bookmakers and that guy – oh, what was his name? Harry – that was it. Just Harry. He’d never been told anything else. The guy had made a brief appearance when the job was done, collected his money in cash and then disappeared like a will-o-the-wisp. And now, if it seemed that the job was only half done, Robert had no one to blame but himself. He’d overlooked Ryan, dismissing him as a child. Unfortunately, at twenty, he seemed very much a man. If Robert had understood this at the outset, the matter could have been dealt with at the time.

He scrabbled through the diary with mounting anxiety, unable to find the number he sought. He couldn’t go back to his original contact – the man had been arrested recently, suspected of being involved in the death of a bookie. Robert had no intention of being caught up in all that.

Just as he was about to give up the search, he found it – scribbled on a small piece of paper in tiny writing, tucked into the back of the book. He could only hope the guy hadn’t ditched the number – he’d never be able to find him then. He pressed the keys on his mobile and listened. The landline would have been more secure but there was always the possibility that Val or Chrissie might pick up an extension and listen in.

The number rang out healthily and Robert smiled. Still connected, then. He let it ring for some time, hoping it wouldn’t go to voicemail but it was answered before that happened. The guy sounded irritated.

‘Yes, Robert, what do you want? You were to destroy any record of this number soon as the job was completed. I thought you understood that?’

‘Yeah, Harry, but I kept it safe. Nobody knows that I have it.’

‘I know.’

‘But I need your help one more time. Another little job.’

‘No! And no again!’

Robert winced and held the phone away from his ear. The man was shouting now.

‘I have a strict rule never to do more than one job for a client. Too dangerous for both of us. We shouldn’t even be talking now.’

‘But you don’t understand. I had an accident.’

‘Spare me your troubles. I don’t have time for them. I’m going off the air now and you’re not to call me again. You’ll regret it if you do.’

‘But, Harry.’ He was pleading now. ‘It’s me – Robert. I was hoping you’d treat me as a special case.’

‘All my cases are special. And strictly one-off. Safer for everyone.’

‘But – you could say this was part of the original job. A loose end.’

‘No. I don’t leave loose ends. Your job was cleanly executed and paid for. We have nothing further to say to each other.’ Harry paused before speaking slowly to emphasize his words. ‘And let’s be clear on this – make any attempt to contact me on this number again and I’ll have to kill you.’

And the call ended abruptly. Robert shivered, suddenly chilled. If most people make such remarks, it can be taken as a joke. But Harry was a professional killer; such a threat had to be taken seriously. Robert threw his mobile down on the desk as if he feared it might bite him.

‘What is it, ’Arry?’ The pretty French girl pouted and sat beside him on the sun lounger. ‘You were so ’appy a moment ago an’ now it’s as if the sun ’as gone be’ind a cloud. You are angry?’

‘I have a lot to think about, that’s all,’ he said, pulling her into his lap and feeling inside her bikini to caress her sex, not caring who might be watching. Her body was warm, smelling of sun lotion and the sea as she writhed against his fingers, almost purring like a cat. Ondine, as she liked to call herself, was an expensive luxury, as was this resort, and Harry was running out of cash. He had checked his accounts this morning and had been shocked by how much he had spent. The job in North Queensland had gone smoothly enough, with no suggestion of foul play and, with the cyclone following it, diverting everyone’s interest, the case was unlikely to be reopened or investigated again. He had nothing in the pipeline right now and who was likely to link a job in Melbourne with what happened in far North Queensland? Perhaps he had been too hasty in blowing Robert off.

‘Sorry, darl,’ he whispered in Ondine’s ear. ‘Might have to leave for a while. Need to go to Melbourne to clean up some business.’

‘I come with you.’ She smiled brightly. ‘I love Melbourne. It ’as the best shops.’

‘No, you won’t.’ He pinched her bottom hard, making her squeak.

Keeping Ondine was expensive enough without letting her loose around the shops. ‘You’ll be a good girl and wait for me here.’

‘Maybe I don’ like to wait.’ She pouted, giving a Gallic shrug. ‘Maybe I get new boyfriend.’

‘Then I get new girlfriend. Suit yourself.’ Without any warning he tipped her off, letting her fall awkwardly onto the sands. ‘See you later, girl. Hop it now. I need to make some phone calls.’

H
AVING MADE UP
his mind to take back the mantle of power, Robert lost no time in giving orders and throwing his weight about in the stables. He found Jim Wolfe and Val looking at Tommy in his stall and making plans. Inwardly, he bristled. He’d teach them to try and exclude him; they needed to recognize that Rob Lanigan was back – he’d show them who was in charge.

Aware of the boss’s scarcely concealed resentment, Jim Wolfe brought him up to speed, informing him that now Hunter’s Moon was settled in Melbourne, he was to start racing again. Lightly, at this time of year, in the hope of securing him a place in some of the races leading up to the Spring Carnival. Jim and Val intended him to start slowly, allowing him to prove himself in the country before bringing him up to one of the major racecourses in town. Robert was quick to override this decision.

‘Tommy doesn’t need to waste time doing that. He’s a city runner who’s already won major races in Sydney. Why waste his energy by letting him race in the country? No. We’ll have him racing at Flemington at the end of the month.’

Jim and Val exchanged worried glances but it was Val who
spoke. ‘Tommy’s new to Melbourne and unused to racing here. Besides, he’s been living quietly for some time. Put him in front of a city crowd and he might get spooked.’

‘Nonsense. It isn’t as if he’s an untried colt – he’s a champion. Cancel the entry for the local meeting. Who did you have down to ride him, anyway?’

‘Mac Wesley.’

Robert almost snorted in disgust. ‘Wesley? That burnt-out old has-been? He’ll take Tommy round as though it’s a walk in the park. No. I want somebody hungry – someone with fire in the belly.’

‘Tommy doesn’t respond well to rough handling,’ Val said, grateful that Ryan had made himself scarce and wasn’t around to hear Robert’s words. ‘Who would you suggest?’

‘Someone up and coming – young but not too young. A talented rider – Fancy Patterson maybe. She’s tough enough and I can overlook the fact that she is a girl.’

‘That’s debatable.’ Jim gave a wry smile. ‘Some people say she’s more man than most of the boys.’

‘Like I said – doesn’t worry me.’

Jim’s smile faded. ‘Rob, with all due respect, you’ve been out of touch for some time. Fancy Patterson has a bit of a reputation—’

‘Yes. For bringing in city winners.’

‘And she’s been suspended more than once for careless riding and unnecessary use of the whip.’

‘So what? All jockeys get suspended from time to time.’ He glared at them. ‘What’s wrong with everyone, all of a sudden? The racing industry used to be about men with some backbone. These days it seems to be run by a bunch of old
women.’ He cast a disparaging look at Val.

‘It’s not just about winning, Rob.’ Val was seething inside that he should dismiss her in front of Jim, but she kept her voice reasonable and low. ‘It’s about getting round safely; making sure everyone arrives back at the winning post in one piece.’

‘What are you talking about? It’s a sport, you numbskull. There has to be some element of risk, some excitement. You’d play it like women’s afternoon tennis.’

‘All right, I’ll meet you halfway,’ she said. ‘We’ll race Tommy at Flemington if that’s what you want but we’re sticking with Mac, who’s already worked with the horse. I don’t want to hire Fancy Patterson.’

‘OK. OK. Whatever you say.’ Robert closed his eyes in exasperation.

He wasn’t about to tell her that he’d already arranged for Hunter’s Moon to compete in a listed race and that Fancy Patterson had agreed to take the ride.

Val didn’t find this out until they were all there at the track, watching Ryan parade the horse. Chrissie was there, too, wearing a sharp black suit she had expected to wear for court appearances but that wasn’t going to happen now. She had also treated herself to a cute hat in hot pink and black; it perched on the back of her head and somehow brought out the beauty of her eyes. Covertly, Ryan watched her with admiration, feeling drawn to her until an unwelcome thought popped into his head. His friend Mike would make short work of Chrissie if he saw her looking so sharply dressed, although he wouldn’t give her a second glance in the old T-shirts and denims she usually wore at home. Ryan had been in touch
several times to tell Mike he was living in Cranbourne although he was in no hurry to tell his friend why he had left Canesville so precipitately. Glen would fill him in on the details soon enough and Mike would have to decide whose side he was on. So far, Mike had been too busy with work and study to drive out to Cranbourne and Ryan was no longer so keen to see him; not on his uncle’s property, anyway. He decided that if Mike could overlook what had happened in Queensland and was genuine about wanting to keep up a friendship, he’d meet him in Melbourne, avoiding the risk of his meeting Chrissie. Talk around the stables was that she had one broken romance behind her already. She didn’t need to get mixed up with a woman-chaser like Mike, who was bad news for any girl.

But he set these disquieting thoughts aside as the jockeys arrived on course, ready to take their rides, and he looked around for Mac Wesley, unable to spot him. Where was he? Surely, the old guy hadn’t forgotten? He’d been looking forward to taking this ride. Instead, he saw a sharp-featured little woman walking purposefully towards his horse.

‘Excuse me,’ Ryan said as the woman grabbed Tommy’s reins, preparing to mount. ‘We’re waiting for Mac Wesley. I think you’ve made a mistake.’

‘You’re the one who’s made the mistake, sonny.’ Without his assistance, Fancy Patterson jumped expertly into the saddle. ‘Mr Lanigan booked me for this ride today. The ole fella – Wesley – got put out to grass.’

‘What’s happening, Ryan?’ Val had seen Fancy take the horse and was quick to catch up with them, breathless from running across the mounting yard. ‘Where’s Mac?’

‘I don’t know,’ Ryan said, still holding on to Tommy, who was clearly ill at ease with this new rider. ‘This lady says Mr Lanigan dumped Wesley and booked her instead.’

‘Did he, indeed?’ Val muttered, casting a narrow-eyed look at her husband, who was sitting high up in the front of the stands in his wheelchair, smiling down at them. Rob gave her a mocking salute and she sighed. ‘Nothing I can do about it now.’ But she held on to the reins for a moment before allowing Fancy to ride away, speaking clearly to make her point. ‘For your own safety, Ms Patterson, I’d advise you to limit the use of your whip. Tommy’s good-natured and willing but he’s a big, strong boy and won’t take kindly to any ill-treatment.’

‘Are you trying to teach me my job, Mrs Lanigan?’ Fancy jerked the reins out of Val’s hands, making Tommy flatten his ears and shake his head. ‘A colt needs firm handling – he has to be shown who’s the boss.’ So saying, she dug in her heels and gave Tommy a sharp slap on the rump, making him leap forward and take off at speed.

Val bit her lip and shook her head, exchanging a glance with Ryan, who folded his arms, watching the erratic progress of horse and rider as they made their way to the starting gate.

‘Don’t worry.’ He tried to reassure Val. ‘Tommy won’t put up with her nonsense for long. She’ll be the one to come off worst.’

‘But we need him to win,’ Val groaned. ‘With Mac at least we might have stood a chance.’

Hunter’s Moon wasn’t used to being treated with so little respect and went through his range of tricks in the hope of unsettling the girl. It didn’t work. In less than five minutes,
she had him in his appointed stall, waiting for the start of the race.

If Fancy Patterson had only trusted her mount and been less arrogant, all might have been well. But as soon as the starter gave the order and the field made that first leap from the stalls, Fancy tried to get his attention by giving him a sharp crack of the whip. Infuriated by her ongoing lack of respect, Tommy changed gait and sidestepped, dumping his unwanted cargo on the ground. Then, finally free of his burden, he put his head up and set about the task of winning the race.

For the crowd, the rest of the race was uneventful. When Tommy had passed the post ahead of the field, dismissed as ‘that unruly horse from Queensland’, the race was won by the short-priced favourite. Ryan quickly caught up with his charge, who was being restrained by the Clerk of the Course.

‘You’re a very naughty boy,’ Ryan said, rubbing the horse’s nose and giving the lie to his words as he tried not to laugh. Tommy flicked his ears at him and tossed his head in a ‘don’t care’ gesture.

Fancy Patterson was bruised from landing on her bottom on the hard ground but, once she had decided she was unhurt, she was vociferous in her complaints. ‘Rob Lanigan told me that horse was a champion,’ she raged at Val. Wisely, Robert had not come down from his perch in the stands. ‘He shouldn’t be on a racetrack at all. He’s barely trained. And you can tell Mr Lanigan not to call me again. Mac Wesley can have his ride back and good luck to him.’ Having said her piece, she left them, bruised and limping, showing her temper by whacking her whip against her boot. Watching her leave, Ryan laughed.

‘It’s not funny, Ryan,’ Val said. ‘I’ve known Robert to sell a horse on for doing a lot less.’

Ryan sobered immediately but it wasn’t just Val’s words that were wiping the smile from his face. He had caught sight of Chrissie in the members’ enclosure, accosted by a good-looking guy who was attempting to have a serious conversation with her. Unfortunately, he couldn’t wait to see the outcome as he had to take Tommy back to the holding stables and rub him down. Val came with him.

‘I’ll look after Tommy for a while, Ryan. You go and have a drink – have a bit of fun for a change. You never take any time off.’

‘Don’t you need to get back to Mr Lanigan?’

‘Mr Lanigan can look after himself for once. He’s done enough damage for one day, hiring that wretched Patterson girl. Poor Tommy.’

‘Tommy’s all right, he’s a tough one. I tried to tell her she’d come off worse.’

‘And a wasted race. All because Rob wouldn’t take my advice.’ Val sighed. ‘Go on. Come back in half an hour or so and we’ll pack Tommy into the float and take him home.’

‘You weren’t serious when you said Mr Lanigan might sell him?’

‘No, no.’ Val was quick with her reassurance, sounding more confident than she felt. ‘He has too much invested in him.’

‘What are you doing here, Tony? How did you get in?’ Chrissie’s heart was beating wildly, feeling as if it would burst right out of her chest. Until this moment she had thought herself cured
of her passion for her erstwhile fiancé but his sudden reappearance in her life was unnerving her. She couldn’t help but remember the familiarity of his face as it used to loom over her when they were lying naked in her bed. She recalled his solemn expression and the sleepy, helpless look of lust in his eyes that she had mistaken for love. Hastily, she returned to the present, forcing these visions from her mind. ‘This part of the course is reserved for owners and trainers. You have no business coming here.’

‘I know that.’ He waved her objections away. ‘But I needed to see you. I still have that card you gave me.’ He shrugged, venturing the mischievous smile that had always undone her before. ‘So I held on to it, thinking it might be useful some day and it was.’

‘Well, you can give it back to me now. And then you can leave,’ she said, refusing to meet his gaze and hoping he wouldn’t see how his sudden appearance upset her.

‘Aw, Chrissie, don’t be like that. Not after all we were to each other.’

‘Until you met that blonde you liked better.’

‘Oh, she’s long gone. I can scarcely remember her name.’ Tony waved his hand as if batting away a fly. ‘But I needed to see you, Chrissie. To tell you what a terrible mistake I’d made.’

‘No, Tony, you did the right thing for both of us. You were honest, for once. Until then, I never realized you thought of me as no more than an unpaid servant; the idiot who did all your work for you when we were at college – a convenient doormat.’

‘No, no. I never thought of you in that way. I’ve always loved you and I know you loved me.’ He put his head on one
side, assessing her. ‘And you’re looking fabulous today. Love the hat. Lost some weight, as well, haven’t you?’

‘No business of yours if I have.’

‘Oh, Chrissie, I put you through hell, didn’t I? I’m so sorry.’

‘Easy for you to say now.’

‘No, it’s not easy at all. I have to live with myself. Chrissie, why don’t you answer my calls? I need to talk to you – to explain what happened to me.’

‘You just don’t get it, do you, Tony? I don’t pick up because I have nothing to say to you. I just don’t care any more.’

‘I don’t believe you. Love doesn’t die that easily.’

‘Yes, it does. If it’s poisoned by betrayal.’

‘Please, Chrissie. I’ve been a complete ass – I admit it freely – but even a fool deserves a second chance. I need you to forgive me, Chrissie.’

‘Tony, you were my first love; you will always be special for that reason alone. We had our time together and I’ll never forget it. Fool that I was, I adored you. But I can’t take you back. I won’t put my life in the hands of a man I can’t trust. It would be like trying to build a house on quicksands.’

‘You can’t mean this. I’m devastated. Please let me hope that one day you’ll come around?’

‘Tony, listen and believe me. It’s over between us.’ Slowly, she shook her head. ‘And I won’t reconsider. This time it’s for good.’

‘Oh. Well …’ He took a deep breath and looked over her shoulder into the distance as if searching for something to say; what new argument he could use to persuade her. He dropped his voice and moved in closer so that she would be the only person to hear what he had to say. ‘I had to see you cos
I’m in a bit of jam. I’ve no one else to turn to or I wouldn’t ask. But … I know you always bring a few hundred to the races, for a meal perhaps or to have a bit of a punt. Don’t suppose you could see your way clear to lending me some?’

‘So that’s it. You want money from me,’ Chrissie muttered as her heart gave a painful lurch. This was the same old Tony, going from one crisis to the next, expecting other people to bail him out. He hadn’t changed at all. ‘How much do you need?’