Field of Thirteen - Dick Francis [72]
Derek Roberts, by dint of not resting the horse when it was beaten, urged Billyboy forwards into fourth place close to the winning post, knowing that Angela would like fourth better than fifth or sixth or seventh. Clement Scott smiled to himself as he watched. Fourth or seventh, the horse had won no prize money, but that lad Derek, with his good looks and his crafty ways, he certainly knew how to keep the owners sweet.
Her race glasses clutched tightly to her chest, Angela Hart breathed from the relief of pulse-raising tensions. She thought gratefully that fourth place wasn’t bad in view of the hot opposition, and Billyboy had been running on at the end, which was a good sign… and Derek Roberts had come back safely.
With her trainer she hastened down to meet the returning pair, and watched Billyboy blow through his nostrils in his usual post-race sweating state, and listened to Derek talking over his shoulder to her while he undid the girth buckles on the saddle.
‘… Made a bit of a mistake landing over the third last, but it didn’t stop him… He should win a race pretty soon, I’d say.’
He gave her the special smile and a sketchy salute and hurried away to weigh-in and change for the next race, looping the girths round the saddle as he went. Angela watched until he was out of sight and asked Clement when her horses were running next.
‘Hamlet had a bit of heat in one leg this morning,’ he said, ‘and Billyboy needs two weeks at least between races.’ He screwed up his eyes at her, teasing. ‘If you can’t wait that long to see them again, why don’t you come over one morning and watch their training gallops?’
She was pleased. ‘Does Derek ride the gallops?’
‘Sometimes,’ he said.
It was on the following day that Angela, dreamily drifting around her house, thought of buying another horse.
She looked up Derek Robert’s number, and telephoned. Find you another horse?’ he said. ‘Yeah… sure… I think another horse is a grand idea, but you should ask Mr Scott…’
‘If Clement finds me a horse,’ Angela said, ‘will you come with me to see it? I’d really like your opinion before I buy.’
‘Well…’ He hesitated, not relishing such a use of his spare time but realising that another horse for Angela meant more fees for himself. ‘All right, certainly I’ll come, Mrs Hart.’
‘That’s fine,’ she said. ‘I’ll ring Clement straight away.’
‘Another horse?’ Clement said, surprised. ‘Yes, if you like, though it’s a bit late in the season. Why not wait –?’
No.’ Angela interrupted. ‘Dear Clement, I want him now.’
Clement Scott heard but couldn’t understand the urgency in her voice. Four days later, however, when she came to see her existing two horses work – having made sure beforehand that Derek would be there to ride them – he understood completely.
Fiftyish, matronly Angela couldn’t keep her eyes off Derek Roberts. She intently watched him come and go on horse and on foot, and scanned his face uninterruptedly while he spoke. She asked him questions to keep him near, and lost a good deal of animation when he went home.
Clement Scott, who had seen that sort of thing often enough before, behaved to her more flirtatiously than ever and kept his sardonic smile to himself. He had luckily heard of a third horse for her, he said, and would take her to see it.
‘Actually,’ Angela said diffidently, ‘I’ve already asked Derek to come with me… and he said he would.’
Clement, that evening, telephoned Derek.
‘Besotted with me?’ said Derek. ‘That’s bloody nonsense. I’ve been riding for her for more than a year. You can’t tell me I wouldn’t have noticed.’
‘Keep your eyes open, lad,’ Clement said. ‘I reckon she wants this other horse just to give her an excuse to see you more often; and that being so, lad, I’ve a little proposition for you.’
He outlined the little proposition at some length, and Derek discovered that his consideration of Mrs Hart’s best interests came a poor second to the prospects of a tax-free instant gain.
He drove to her house at Wentworth a few days later, and they went