Riders (93 page)

“Great, Rupe, terrific, you showed them.”

Rupert broke away from them and stumbled towards the tunnel. Everyone followed him, cheering. Malise fought his way back to Rupert’s side.

“Leave him alone,” he snarled at the pack, suddenly losing his temper. “Can’t you understand the strain he’s been under?”

“It’s all right,” he said gently to Rupert.

Rupert turned, his eyes streaming. “A moron, a schoolgirl, and a cuckold,” he said. “We took on the whole bloody world.”

“And beat them,” said Malise.

Halfway down the tunnel Rupert slumped against the wall, shutting his eyes, battling to stop the tears.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “Been a bit of a strain the last few days. Too much dope, not much sleep. Oh, Christ.”

“Look,” said Malise, patting Rupert’s good shoulder, “over the years I’ve seldom seen eye to eye with you. But I have to hand it to you today. Without doubt you produced the finest and bravest display of riding I’ve ever seen. You made the other riders look like gymkhana kids. No one in that stadium or watching it on television will ever forget it.”

Rupert sniffed and wiped away the tears with the back of his hand.

“Think Jake would’ve beaten me?”

“My dear boy, today no one could have beaten you.”

Rupert stretched out his good hand and grabbed Malise’s arm.

“I’ve always given you a hard time,” he said shakily, “but I guess you’re the best, too.”

Odd, thought Malise, how the moments of greatest happiness come from the people you least expect.

Suddenly Rupert brightened perceptibly. “I put a monkey on our winning,” he said. “I must have made a fortune.”

Chestnut, dappled gray, and dark bay, they walked proudly into the arena, ears pricked, eyes bright, knowing they were the best in the world. On their backs rode Rupert and Ivor in their red coats, with Fen in black in the center. And realizing once again they were riding one man short, the magnanimous crowd cheered them to the top of the stadium. Everywhere, Union Jacks seemed to be waving.

‘And straight against that great array / Forth went the dauntless three,’ thought Malise.

“Mummy,” said Georgina Hamilton in Scotland, “you really must allow me to meet Rupert. I mean, he may be old and frightfully wicked, but he is phenomenally attractive. And they always say it’s best to start with an older man.”

Tabitha, who’d been allowed to stay up, bounced on Amanda’s knee.

“Daddy jump,” she said. “Daddy jump well.”

“He did indeed, darling,” said Amanda. She turned to Rollo, trying to keep her elation within bounds. “If that doesn’t get Rupert a safe seat, nothing will.”

“He is stunning,” said Georgina. “Oh, promise you’ll introduce me.”

It’s a good thing, thought Amanda, that Georgina is going back to boarding school next week.

“Want Mummy. When will I see Mummy?” said Marcus for the hundredth time that day.

“I’m so proud of her,” said Tory. “She rode so wonderfully well. It’s so awful that such a marvelous victory should be blighted by the other thing. Jakey must be heartbroken not to be part of it.”

“He couldn’t come back into that,” said Dino. “I guess he didn’t want to rock any more boats. If he’s coming back, I figure it’ll be later.”

Malise followed them with his military walk, marching on air. The crowd once again gave an extra cheer in appreciation of Dizzy and Sarah in their Union Jack shorts.

As she stood on the highest middle step of the podium, Fen was still smaller than Carol Kennedy.

“Dino will be very proud of you,” he said, kissing her.

“You’d have pulled it off if he hadn’t dropped out,” said Fen.

Carol shrugged: “You’d have pulled it off more easily if you’d had Jake.”

“We might not have,” said Fen. “We were more of a team than ever before.”

The president’s wife came forward in a pale blue dress and Fen bowed her head as the pink, blue, and green ribbon was hung round her neck. As though it were in braille, she put her hand up to touch the gold, tracing the lady with her sheaf of corn on one side, the athlete borne aloft on the other.

“We got a gold,” she said incredulously.

“Team gold’s the best,” said Rupert.

They watched the British flag slide up the white pole. A breath of wind stretched it out. Never had the National Anthem sounded so beautiful.

“God save,” began Fen, then found she couldn’t go on. Tears splashed onto her high cheekbones. Rupert put his hand on her shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly.

When the music stopped she turned back to him, burying her face in his shoulder.

“What shall we do this evening?” he said.

“You ought to go to bed,” said Fen.

“How about a really marvelous fuck?” said Rupert.

Fen burst out laughing.

“I’ve always wanted you,” said Rupert, kissing her.

“Hey, lay off,” howled Dino, hurling a cushion at the television set.

“Lucky thing,” said Georgina Hamilton. “She’s very attractive. Mind you, I expect she’ll console him now Helen’s pushed off.”

Amanda Hamilton was surprised how much she minded that embrace. She knew it was victory euphoria, but Fen really was very pretty. Amanda caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, and pulled in her tummy. She’d been eating too much porridge, and must go on a diet before Rupert got back.

“I’ve seen a lot of things,” Malise told Prince Philip, wiping away a tear, as the riders galloped round the arena, their rosettes streaming like colored meteors, “when I went all through the war, but this is the greatest experience of my life. Makes you very proud to be British.”

“That was a staggering piece of riding by Rupert Campbell-Black,” said Prince Philip.

Jake Lovell, in a scruffy motel near Kennedy Airport, and rapidly running out of money, decided not to have another cigarette, as he had only half a packet left. With Helen in his arms, he lay in bed watching television.

“Hardy was your horse,” sobbed Helen. “You ought to have been up there getting a gold, too.”

“I’m on the winners’ rostrum already. I’ve got you,” said Jake. But his heart was like lead. Helen must never realize the colossal sacrifice he had made, or she’d never forgive herself.

Dino tucked Tory up in bed, making sure that she took both her sleeping pills. Her apathy worried him; he felt it would be healthier if she raged against Helen and Jake. Then he put the children to bed. Darklis was so overexcited she wanted a story. Every time Dino tried to skip, or missed a word because he was tired, she corrected him. He found Isa in floods of tears. Why had his father gone off with Helen? Why was the paper calling him a traitor and a deserter? What did treachery mean? Who would look after his mother now? Was it something that he, Isa, had done?

Dino comforted him as best he could. He didn’t really know the answer to any of those questions either, but he knew Jake going off had nothing to do with Isa, and he was sure that once the Games were over, Jake would want to see him and Darklis again. At last Isa fell asleep.

It was two o’clock in the morning. The Mill House seemed bitterly cold after America. Dino supposed it was the changeover from summer to fall. Now, jet lag was catching up with him and he felt absolutely shattered. For the hundredth time he asked himself if he’d been insane to indulge in this quixotic gesture of rushing off to Europe to look after Tory.

He had avoided going into Fen’s room because he was missing her so appallingly. Now, desperate for reassurance, he pushed open the door, breathing in the faint trace of her perfume and the mustiness of damp and dust and lack of use. All the china horses on the shelves and the teddy bears that used to fill up the entire windowseat had been put away. Perhaps that was his fault for telling her during that terrible row she ought to grow up. He’d liked the room better as it was before—except for the photograph of Billy Lloyd-Foxe, which had been removed.

Feeling he shouldn’t be snooping, he opened the top drawer of the chest and found a small pile of newspaper cuttings and photographs held together by a pink plastic paper clip. They were all of himself, making him feel slightly better. All the same, he’d been mad to leave her with Rupert and Billy. He went back into the sitting room and opened a bottle of wine. He felt shattered but not really sleepy; his time clock was still up the creek.

Turning on the television, he stretched out on the sofa. They were now showing the press conference. Everyone cheered and whooped as Malise and the British team filed in. There was a tremendous popping of champagne corks.

Rupert, who sat next to Fen with his good arm along the back of her chair in a vaguely proprietorial way, did most of the talking. He looked great; the earlier tears might never have occurred. He must have lost another half a stone since Helen left him, but it merely made his arrogant, slightly depraved face more finely planed than ever.

“Now, none of us want to talk about my wife or Fen’s brother-in-law, so no questions about that,” he said. “I think we proved that we can win medals without the others. Ivor had the most difficult task, as the pathfinder. He jumped quite brilliantly. Fen had to jump on a different horse, and he can be a sod, I promise you. He’s much too strong for her, but she kept him sweet, and I’d like to remind you that she’s only just nineteen and jumping in her first Olympic competition.”

Fen blushed as a huge cheer went round the room.

“I’m incredibly proud of them,” said Malise. “I think today they all moved up a gear, and that people will talk about Rupert’s legendary second round as long as show jumping lasts.”

“And it wasn’t just us, either,” said Fen, holding out her glass for more champagne as the cheers subsided. “It was Malise who kept us all calm when we looked like going to pieces, and Dizzy and Sarah, our grooms, and poor Griselda who’s in hospital, and our families, who’ve had to put up with us being offish and totally self-obsessed for the last month…Also,” she added defiantly, “there’s my brother-in-law, Jake Lovell.”

Somebody booed, then everybody followed suit, stamping their feet, shouting, “Out, out, out.”

“No, shut up,” said Fen furiously. “He taught me everything I know, and he made Hardy the horse he is; Hardy who got a silver and a gold, so we ought to thank him and give him credit as well.”

“Particularly,” drawled Rupert, “for taking my wife off my hands.”

For a second there was an embarrassed pause, then everyone roared with laughter.

Rupert seized the champagne bottle, filling up his glass.

“In fact, the toast definitely isn’t absent friends. We like the people who stuck by us, don’t we, angel?” He stroked the back of Fen’s neck. There wasn’t a reporter in the room who didn’t respond to his magnetism.

“We noticed you had Fen in a clinch on the podium,” said the man from the
Daily Mail.

“Who can blame me?” said Rupert insolently.

Fen looked wary. “Our horses are good friends,” she said.

“What about you two?” said the man from the
Daily Mirror.

“This is quite unnecessary,” snapped Malise. “They came here to discuss the gold medal.”

The man from the
Mirror
ignored him. “Might be nice if you consoled Rupert,” he said.