Richie and I collected our food from the buffet.
‘So who do you think will win the Gold Cup?’ he asked as we sat down again.
‘I think that the Irish hurdler has a really good chance.’
‘Manor House?’
‘That’s the one. It won the Mares’ Hurdle at Cheltenham in March and the Irish Mares’ Champion Hurdle at Punchestown in April. And it will be at a good price too. Might be worth a punt.’
It was not unusual for horses that predominantly raced over hurdles to occasionally run on the flat. Many of the long-distance flat handicaps were regularly won by jumpers. The Ascot Gold Cup was not a handicap, but it was raced over two and a half miles, making it one of the longest flat races on the calendar — and the same length as the Mares’ Hurdle at Cheltenham.
‘I’m not sure she’ll have the pace,’ Richie said, taking another mouthful of excellent poached salmon. ‘I fancy the Johnson colt. Won the Yorkshire Cup last time out. He’ll surely start as a favourite.’
We took the opportunity to discuss the future plans for the other four Victrix horses in his yard, sorting out when and where they would run next.
‘Right,’ Richie said, standing up. ‘I must be off. I have one running in the Ribblesdale, so I must go and sort that out. See you later.’
The Ribblesdale was a mile-and-a-half contest for three-year-old fillies, the third race on today’s card. It was named after the fourth Baron Ribblesdale, who had served as Master of the Royal Buckhounds towards the end of the nineteenth century.
The Masters of the Royal Buckhounds had run Ascot Racecourse, on behalf of the Crown, from its inception right up to 1901, and several other races at Royal Ascot were also named after former masters, including the Coventry, Jersey, Chesham, and Hardwicke Stakes.
Richie walked away, but I decided to stay sitting at the table for a while longer and to watch the Royal Procession on one of the many televisions hung around the walls of the dining room. The TVs showed the afternoon’s racing, not only from here at Ascot but also from the day’s other meetings at Ripon and Chelmsford.
In order to keep the betting shops happy, race times at the various meetings were staggered so that races didn’t clash, with a new race starting somewhere every ten to fifteen minutes.
Remaining in the Owners and Trainers’ Dining Room would also mean I didn’t have to meet anyone else who wanted to talk about the Racing Post headline, at least for a while. So I lingered in the same spot to watch Ascot’s first race of the day, the Norfolk Stakes.
I hoped that now that the afternoon’s racing had finally begun, people might have something else to talk about other than the ‘Mystery of the Missing Weights.’
Chapter 24
I had agreed to meet Toni at 4.40 next to the Moët & Chandon Champagne Bar, where we had shared a bottle of fizz the previous morning, and I arrived there a few minutes early.
The Gold Cup had just finished with a stunning two-length victory for Manor House, the Irish hurdling mare, and at a starting price of ten-to-one. I now sorely wished I’d had the strength of my convictions to invest some cash on her nose.
For the umpteenth time, I looked at my watch.
It was now a quarter to five.
Toni was late.
I wanted to be along at the saddling boxes by five o’clock, to be there in good time for when Richie arrived to saddle Cherwell Edge.
Toni arrived at ten to, coming up and throwing her arms around my neck, and giving me a big kiss on the lips.
‘Not here,’ I said, pushing her away. ‘Too many eyes.’
She pulled a face.
‘Come on,’ I said, turning to go. ‘We need to get to the saddling boxes.’
She didn’t move.
‘Yes, thank you,’ she said. ‘I’ve had a lovely day.’
I turned back to her.
‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘I’m glad you’ve had a lovely day. Good lunch?’
‘Excellent. The Ascot Authority suite is fabulous. It’s right next door to the King’s, and it has a great view of the racing.’
I knew. I’d been in there too.
‘Now, can we go, please,’ I said. ‘I want to be there in time to watch my horse being saddled.’
We walked up the slope, past the fast-food outlets, to the parade-ring concourse, and then on beyond to the pre-parade ring and the saddling boxes.
The fifth race was in progress as we arrived, and I was relieved to see that Cherwell Edge was still being led around the pre-parade ring, and without a saddle on his back.
We stopped and leaned against the white rail around the ring, waiting for Richie Mackenzie to arrive.
‘Are you coming back to the hotel with me tonight?’ Toni asked.
I looked at her and longed to do so.
‘I can’t,’ I said. ‘I have to go home.’
‘To your wife?’
‘No. Not that. My wife has gone to stay with her parents. But I still have to go home. I need to do something for my son.’
‘Is he also at home?’
‘No, he’s not,’ I said. ‘He’s away at university in Bristol, but I have to find his passport for him and then send him a copy. It’s urgent.’
‘Can’t someone else do it?’ she asked.
‘There’s no one else there to do it.’
‘So I can go home with you?’
Suddenly, it felt like this was going too far — although how much farther could one go than full-on sexual intercourse? But taking her back to my house seemed to be elevating things to a different level, one I wasn’t sure I wanted to reach. Not yet, anyway.
‘How about your clothes and hat for tomorrow?’ I asked, fishing for an excuse for her not to be able to come back with me.
‘I would just have to wear the same as I am today.’
‘Won’t the Farquhars think that strange?’
‘I don’t think they’d even notice. It’s all about them, not me. I’ve already told them that they should go back to London tonight without me. I said I wanted to stay for the singing around the bandstand after the races. Everyone on my table was talking about it over lunch.’
‘So how do they think you’ll get back?’
‘I said I’d take the train. I’m a big girl.’ She smiled at me. ‘And I could also tell them that I will take the train back here in the morning. I’m sure they would be delighted not to have to make the detour to pick me up.’
‘Where are you having lunch tomorrow?’ I asked.
‘With you, I hope. The Farquhars have been invited by some friends to something called the Royal Ascot Racing Club. They said this morning that they were very sorry, but the invitation doesn’t include me. Seems there are only two guest places available. I told them not to worry. I’d be fine.’ She smiled at me again. ‘Maybe we won’t even bother to come here at all. We could spend the morning in bed and then watch the racing on the TV in the afternoon.’
I had to admit that it sounded like a very attractive proposition.
‘But I’ve made some appointments tomorrow,’ I said. ‘I need to be here.’
‘So we shall be,’ she said. ‘No problem.’
At this point, Richie arrived with the saddle for Cherwell Edge, and he called the stable lad to bring the horse over to one of the saddling boxes.
‘You stay here,’ I told Toni. ‘I’ll be back.’
I went over to the saddling box, but I didn’t go in. Richie had brought his assistant to help him, and they soon had Cherwell Edge saddled and ready for the main parade ring.
‘All in order?’ I asked Richie as the horse was walked away.
‘Absolutely,’ he said. ‘Weight cloth and all.’ He smiled at me.
‘Good,’ I said, doing my best to ignore his little jibe. ‘I’ll join you in the parade ring in a few minutes.’