FOLLOW THE MORNING STAR (58 page)

Queenie had tried to call Dina several times, but no one had answered. As she walked away from the telephone, it began to ring. It was Saskia, calling to tell her the news about Toffee.

‘Sas, that’s so exciting! I can’t believe you’ve done all this. Well, yes I can. You are the independent miss, aren’t you. Well, we’ll all be there with bells on. What did Tango say?’

‘He was surprised, but decent about my asking Mick to ride. Frankly, while Tango did his best in training Ambrosia, I don’t think Tango or Mick will be broken-hearted if he doesn’t win . . . seeing as Ambrosia is Camboni’s horse.’

‘Now, Sas, don’t be disappointed if Toffee doesn’t do well, you can’t expect to have a winner first time. The fact you’ve got him to
this stage and qualifying is excellent. I think you’ve made a good buy there, he’s a beautiful horse.’

Saskia agreed. ‘Colin and his mates will be mad if he wins, having sold him to me. I think it’s just as well Mick is riding Toffee — if he rode Ambrosia and lost, I wouldn’t put it past Colin and his crew to claim foul play.’

‘I wouldn’t put anything past Colin,’ said Queenie with heat.

‘Gosh, Mum, does that mean he’s off the list for my twenty-first birthday?’ said Saskia trying to joke, unaware of the pain that lay behind her mother’s bitter comment.

‘Your party is entirely up to you. What would you like to do?’

‘Ria and Bruce offered to do something here if I wanted. Or there’s the Gold Coast . . . or even a big formal in Sydney at Sarah’s, I suppose,’ mused Saskia.

‘Henri would love to give you an elegant party at the Kurrajong, I know,’ added Queenie.

‘Mum, I’m not the elegant type. No,’ said Saskia, making a decision, ‘there’s only one place for my party — Tingulla. And I want TR to be there too.’

‘You ask him, Sas. Things are a bit strained between us right now. I’m just leaving him on his own for the moment, it seems to be what he wants. But you’d want Dingo to come too, wouldn’t you?’

‘You bet, so I’ll ask Dingo too, then they’ll both come for sure. My birthday is on the Friday, but I’d like the party to be on Saturday
so all my friends can be there . . . And can we have a big woolshed dance and let the guests sleep in the shearers’ quarters?’ Saskia asked hesitantly, aware she was treading on sensitive ground. This was how Queenie had celebrated her own twenty-first — the night she’d met TR and her mother Rose had been brutally murdered.

‘If that’s what you want, Sas,’ said Queenie slowly, ‘then we’ll do it. Well, I guess I’ll see you at the races. Don’t you go putting a lot of money on Toffee, you’ve spent enough!’

‘Gosh, Mum, I have to show some faith in my horse — even if it’s only a couple of dollars.’

Queenie hung up, glad Saskia hadn’t sensed her deep anxiety about Colin’s claim on Cricklewood. Queenie had examined her finances over and over again; she had exhausted every avenue, but no one, not even the bank, could help and she had come to the conclusion that she couldn’t raise the money without losing Tingulla Fashions. And she wasn’t prepared to do that — it wasn’t just her money involved, lots of people stood to lose a lot if she pulled out now.

It made her feel physically ill when she thought about it, but there was only one answer. She couldn’t give Colin the money he wanted, so she’d have to give him Cricklewood. She held onto the faint hope that Colin might sit on Cricklewood for a bit before selling it, and maybe she could raise the finance to purchase it at that time. It gave her hope for a brief time, but in her heart Queenie knew
Colin would flog it and strip it of its assets as fast as he could. He wanted cash. Well, she had to give him an answer soon. He’d be at the Gold Coast Cup. She’d tell him at the races.

The taxi wound up the drive to Harmony Hill and stopped outside the main entrance. The solitary male passenger paid the driver and stepped from the cab, hoisting his small bag onto his shoulder before going into the reception area. He emerged a few minutes later following the directions given to him by the girl at the reception desk, and set off down the path.

Jenni leaned back in her chair on the small front deck of her bungalow and laughed at the description of a racing camel being ridden by the indomitable Dingo. ‘What an amazing man he is,’ she smiled.

Tango reached for his drink, hooking his long legs up on the railing. ‘Boy, this is some pretty place, thanks for showing me around. So you’re feeling good about being here, huh?’

‘Yes, I’m enjoying the work. Colin is a bit of a pain, but it’s great having Saskia around. What plans have you guys made for dinner?’

‘Saskia’s busy with Mick, getting Toffee ready for the big race. I thought we might have dinner alone. I figured we could go into Surfers and paint the town red. What do you say?’

‘That would be nice. I’m dying to hear more about your trip to Dingo’s and all about how TR is getting on.’

‘Why don’t you ask him yourself?’ came a
deep firm voice from the living room behind them.

Jenni swung around with a gasp and Tango’s legs dropped off the railing in shock as he struggled to his feet, tipping over his chair in the process.

Jenni and Tango stared in shocked surprise at TR standing in the middle of the room, a wry, lopsided grin on his face.

‘Surprise,’ he said simply.

Jenni hurried towards him. ‘TR, what are you doing here? Have you come up for the Cup? How did you get here? I mean, why . . . are you here?’ She reached up and kissed him lightly on the cheek but TR and Tango had locked eyes, each staring at the other.

TR answered her without taking his eyes from Tango. ‘Guess I’m here for the same reason he is — to take you to dinner.’

‘You’re a popular girl it seems,’ said Tango, continuing to gaze at his father. He had no idea TR was planning a trip to Harmony Hill. He thought he was still with Dingo.

Jenni looked from father to son. ‘Well come on in, TR, we were just sitting on the deck having a juice. Tango came up yesterday.’ She led TR out onto the deck. ‘I thought you were staying in the west for a while longer.’

‘Yeah Dad, so did I . . .’ said Tango testily. ‘I didn’t know you were coming back. Or planning on seeing Sas. Mum didn’t mention anything.’

‘She doesn’t know. It was an impromptu trip.’ TR turned to Jenni. ‘I wanted to talk to you.’

Tango rose. ‘Look, I’ll leave. Jenni, I’ll be at Sas’s bungalow. I guess dinner is off. I’ll see you, Dad.’ He left the room without looking at his father.

TR turned to Jenni. She looked at him with a mixture of curiosity, sympathy and wariness. ‘TR . . . why didn’t you call? Is something wrong?’

‘No. I didn’t expect you to be . . . that, Tango would be here . . . Why is he here?’

‘TR, he’s come up for the Cup . . . and to see how I’d settled in.’

‘I see.’ TR turned away.

Jenni went to him and put her arms around him. ‘No, TR, you don’t see. Please, don’t be like this. I’m really so glad to see you.’ She hugged him but he brushed her aside.

‘You must feel pretty pleased with yourself. You’ve not only got two men on a string, you’ve got . . .’

‘Stop! Don’t say it, TR!’ cried Jenni. ‘This is crazy. You’re both special. For God’s sake . . . you know how much you mean to me!’

‘And what about Tango? What does he mean to you, Jenni?’ demanded TR.

Jenni looked near to tears. ‘I don’t know. You both mean a lot to me.’

‘I needed you, Jenni. I thought we were going to sort out where we stood when I came back from the west. I decided this needed to be sorted out sooner rather than later, so here I am. I can’t stand my life as it is . . . this not knowing about things!’ TR rubbed his eyes, his face crumpled and Jenni’s heart lurched in despair at the desolate tone of his voice.

‘What about Queenie?’ asked Jenni slowly. ‘Where does she fit in? Where do I fit in? What do you want, TR?’ she asked quietly.

TR stared at her, a passionate fire burning in his eyes and for a moment he looked as if he was going to grab her and sweep her into his arms. But like the flame of a match suddenly dwindling, he turned away, his shoulders sagging. ‘I don’t know what I want. I’m sorry for barging in like this. It was crazy. I’ll go back to Dingo’s. Tell Tango . . . Oh never mind.’

TR picked up his small bag and stepped into the sunlight and Jenni watched him walk back along the flower fringed path with tears spilling from her eyes.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

The Wednesday of the Gold Coast Cup was a perfect May day — fresh in the early morning then sunny with a comfortable balmy breeze in the afternoon. The Cup was race six, scheduled for three-thirty. Saskia, Jenni, Mick and Tango arrived early as Saskia wanted to make sure there were no last-minute slipups. They were given long odds of fifteen to one, despite Toffee’s good win in one of the lead-up races.

While Saskia settled Toffee into his stall, Jenni and Tango went off to scout around and see if they could find Ambrosia.

‘You all right?’ asked Tango gently as they wandered around.

‘Of course. Everything’s fine.’

‘Oh, I just thought . . . well, after, you know, TR dropping in so unexpectedly . . . Have you sorted all that out?’

Jenni spoke quickly, sounding a little
strained. ‘There wasn’t a lot to sort out. It’s TR who has the sorting out to do.’

‘You don’t want to talk about this now, do you?’

‘Not really,’ said Jenni.

‘Listen, I reckon you’re going to need a bit of extra schooling in the horse-racing game. How about you get some time off after all this is over and come and visit Guneda? And me. Just a friendly social tour. What do you say?’

‘Well . . . I don’t know.’

‘Come on, Jen, you’ll love it there, I promise. No strings attached.’

‘I don’t know if I can get away . . .’ Her voice wavered.

‘Sure you can. If you have any problems with the mob at Harmony Hill tell ’em I have a bad back which needs urgent fixing.’

Jenni laughed a little. ‘I’ll look into it, but I’m not making any promises.’

‘Fair enough. But try hard, huh?’

‘I’ll see.’ Jenni was smiling broadly now.

When they got back to the others, Saskia introduced Tango to Angus Wellburn, who’d just arrived, then asked, ‘How’s Ambrosia looking?’

‘Only saw him at a distance, they had so many bods around, I didn’t feel welcome. How do you fancy your chances on this bloke, Mick?’

‘Pretty good, but we seem to be the only fellas that think so.’

‘Ambrosia still has pretty good odds, but the favourite is High Noon,’ said Angus. ‘He’s a
better known horse than Ambrosia. The bookies say he’s the one to beat.’

Queenie arrived late in the morning and soon found the group camped about Toffee’s stall. She and Saskia hugged each other, Tango kissed her and held her at arm’s length. ‘Wow, you look great, Mum.’ She wore a straight fitting safari-green linen dress and a natural straw hat with a matching animal print green and brown chiffon scarf tied around its crown. Her burnished hair fell smoothly around her shoulders; her legs were bare and her feet slipped into soft emu-skin pumps she’d had made specially in Sydney.

But behind the lovely smiling face there was a tenseness, a weariness in her eyes, a hint of sadness about her mouth. ‘Tango, we have to talk when you have a moment . . .’ She glanced at Jenni, giving her a cautious smile. Queenie was unsure how to treat Jenni — as a threat or a friend. In a swift glance she took in Jenni’s sky-blue cotton skirt and matching short-sleeved jacket. She looked pretty and youthful and Queenie could see why any man would be attracted to her.

Tango touched his mother on the arm and introduced her to Angus who immediately launched into a long conversation about horses, Toffee, Sweet William and the chances of their girls winning today. Queenie listened to his enthusiastic chatter with half an ear, smiling and nodding, her eyes casting about for Tango who was talking to Saskia and Jenni. Before Queenie could catch Tango’s eye, Saskia excused herself, saying she wanted to find
Ambrosia’s connections and check out the horse.

Tango took Jenni by the arm and waved to his mother. ‘We’re going for a coffee,’ he called and was gone before Queenie could say a word. With a sigh she turned her attention back to Angus Wellburn. She’d break the news to Tango about having to give up Cricklewood after the race.