Cambridge Blue - Alison Bruce [71]
‘Is that a hint?’
A defensive note slipped into her voice. ‘I don’t hint; I either say it or keep it to myself. Lorna was competent, but not expert. Suze is a retired racehorse; she was highly strung in her day and animals like that are well aware of who they can take advantage of. And that was all I meant.’
‘I’ve spoken to Richard and Alice Moran, so I’m already aware of her connection to the rest of your family.’
Goodhew tried to see behind her defiant look. He had the distinct feeling that she chose to keep her thoughts to herself far more often than she vented them. Reticence was no ugly trait, just one he didn’t have the luxury of letting her indulge in right now.
But she seemed to open up a bit whenever she talked about her horse, and if that meant he had to take a metaphorical canter round the paddock to get over each metaphorical hurdle, that was fine by him.
Jackie ran her nail up and down the double-stitched outer seam of her jodhpurs. It was the kind of action that reminded him of a schoolgirl chewing a pencil or twirling her hair. Distracted, and insecure.
‘Tell me about Suze,’ he asked gently.
Her gaze darted up and directly met his. Her face softened, and for the first time he saw what appeared to be a genuine smile. ‘She’s really called Souza Symphony – that was her racing name. My dad owned part shares in her, but she only ran a few times. She wasn’t quite quick enough. She was fast, actually, but we’re talking about a tenth of a second here and there making all the difference. That picture behind you . . .’ She pointed to the back of the stable door, where a photocopy of a press clipping was pinned. ‘That was the only thing she ever won. Beginner’s luck, my mother said.’
There were two people pictured alongside the horse. One was the jockey. Goodhew read the caption: ‘Souza Symphony, winner of the 5F Yearling Handicap, pictured with jockey Brendan Quinn and owner Mrs Sarah Moran.’ If Jackie Moran had tried to dress up as a grinning Dynasty extra, this would undoubtedly have been the result. ‘That’s her, then?’
‘I remember how Mum took us on summer holidays to Bournemouth, then abandoned us at the hotel for the day while she drove to Brighton to watch her run. Dad came down a few days later, and they had this huge row about it.’
‘When was that?’
‘1982, can’t you tell by the clothes? Suze is a real old girl now, and I’m glad Mum went that day. She was thrilled. Suze went on to have a couple of foals, then I talked Dad into letting me keep her. I suppose it’s silly to have two horses all to myself, but it’s how I like to spend my time.’
‘Do you work as well?’
‘I inherited this place and the cottage I live in, so there’s no rent or mortgage. I’m paid to look after the three horses there in the field and I give riding lessons at the weekend. That’s it. I’d love to do this place up properly, but I don’t think it’ll happen somehow. I’m not one of our family’s high-flyers, am I?’ Her smile reappeared, but he thought it now looked artificially bright.
‘If you spent a lot of time with Lorna, I would have thought you’d have come forward. Why didn’t you?’ He threw in the question, hoping to catch her more off guard now.
Her eyes narrowed and the smile hardened. ‘Time to get down to business, I suppose?’
‘Something like that.’
‘Well, first off, thanks for letting me chat about Suze, I needed an ice-breaker. I find it hard to talk to most people.’ She was quite obviously stalling. ‘I suppose that’s why I like it out here.’ She paused, her stalling stalled. A few more seconds passed before she spoke again. ‘I can cope one to one, like this, but not with big groups of people, or in unfamiliar places. It’s pathetic, I know.’ Jackie said it in such a matter-of-fact way that at first he wondered if there was any truth in what she was saying.
‘And secondly?’
‘Secondly, I didn’t want to give myself stress and