Ridden hard, p.19
Ridden Hard, page 19
part #2 of Train Wreck Series
“Let me hold her.” I take Isabelle off Jess, and even the blanket feels hot. I touch my lips against her forehead, and, instead of being soft and warm, she’s hot and dry. I push the edge of the blanket away from her face and study the closed eyes, the waxy white skin, the cheeks red and burning. I put my face close to her mouth to feel if she’s breathing. Her breath feels like a soft whisper against my cheek. She’s flushed and quiet and floppy as if all her bones have gone.
“Do you think I should call Mum?” asks Jess.
“Nah. Call an ambulance.” We’ve been through colds and teething and earache, but I’ve never seen anything like this. I bet if we called Jess’s Mum, she’d say to call an ambulance.
Jess picks her phone up off the table and hits 111, hands shaking, but the tears have stopped.
“How long has she been like this?” I ask as we wait for an answer.
“I don’t know. She was fine when I put her to bed. I heard her cry out a little while ago. She was like this when I picked her up.”
Someone is on the other end.
“We need an ambulance,” says Jess, then answers questions while I hold our little girl. She’s so still, I can’t tell if she’s alive.
It seems like hours before the ambulance arrives, but it’s probably only minutes.
“Should we pack anything for her?” Jess asks.
“I don’t know.” I’ve never taken a baby to hospital before. Fuck, a few hours ago, I was on stage in a pub, playing a violin. I still smell of the sweat and alcohol.
We do nothing. We just wait. I figure if we need something, Mum or Dad will get it for us. Or Jess’s parents. They can come and get us from the hospital too. I’m not taking the car. There’s no way either of us is letting her go into that ambulance alone.
Finally, the ambulance arrives, and we rush to the hospital.
And Isabelle dies an hour later.
A virus.
Nobody’s fault.
That’s what the doctor says anyway.
Jess is nineteen.
I’m twenty.
Isabelle was eighteen months.
Luke and Reg help me make the coffin. Luke helps me carry it.
Did you know, when it’s a little kid’s funeral, the whole world turns up? And they expect you to shake hands and say the right thing. And, Jesus, what’s the right thing? It gets like you’re trying to make them feel better.
In the end, I can’t stand it. They can all say what the fuck they like as far as I’m concerned, it won’t bring Isabelle back.
I bugger off and leave them to it. I walk around to Collins’ house and let myself in.
I thought maybe I’d play something, try to lose myself in the music the way I can in this house. But I don’t. I get out the stuff Collins and I are working on and stick it up on the holder. Then I sit on the piano seat and do nothing.
After a while, I hear the key in the door, and when it opens, there’s Collins. He stands by the door for a moment like he’s deciding what to do. Then he comes over and sits beside me, the way we’d sit if we were working on something.
“What are you playing, Isaac?”
“Nothing.”
He nods, and we sit for a while. Then he says gently, “You can’t be here now, Isaac. Everyone is looking for you.”
“And?”
“I have to let them know where you are.” He says it like he’s asking permission.
“Okay.” Like I care.
He gets his phone out of his pocket and flips it open.
He must ring Jess’s dad. “John,” he says. I guess he has his number. They work together. “He’s at my place.” Collins listens for a moment, then asks me, “How did you get here?”
“Walked.”
“Walked,” he says into the phone. Another pause. “Yeah, okay. I’ll drop him off at home soon.”
At the house, someone must have got rid of the flowers and cards because by the time Collins drops me off, it has all been cleared away. Jess and her Mum are waiting for me.
“Where did you go?” Jess asks.
“Collins’.”
“Why?”
I shrug. “I figured no one would be there.”
“We were worried about you, Isaac,” says Jess’s mother.
I shrug again. Why worry about me? I’m useless. I couldn’t protect my own kid. I wasn’t even here when she got sick.
Chapter 31
Milly
COLE AND I don’t invite the rest of Stadium to the races in the end. It would have been just too much after Isabelle’s funeral.
I don’t know how Jess and Isaac are going to cope. How do you survive after losing a child? I was upset enough when Wildfire died. How would I feel if my baby died?
I think Isaac is just surviving it. At the funeral, he looked stunned as he went through the motions. He stood beside Jess like her shadow and carried the coffin with Luke when he was expected to.
And then disappeared. He’d left his phone in his car and walked away. I guess even with all the people supporting him, he couldn’t cope with the grief.
When Jess realised that he’d gone, she went still with fear.
“Where’s Isaac?” she asked frantically. “I can’t lose him too.”
Suddenly, everyone was desperately trying to track him down. Luke and Noah took off the search around town. Cole and Adam thought he might have gone to shed where Stadium practised and checked there.
But in the end, Jess’s dad found him at Collin’s place. And you could see the relief sweep through everyone. It was frightening.
So, three days later, I’m at the races with Cole. It’s strange to be with people who don’t know about Isabelle dying. Pippa and I spent most of our time with Jess and Isaac. People were coming and going at their house constantly.
Isaac escaped to his music room when they arrived, but I never heard him play anything.
Jess just sat in the lounge and let things flow past her. Pippa and I did the tidying and made the coffee and put the food the visitors brought into the fridge or freezer. Isaac and Jess aren’t going to need to go grocery shopping for a month.
And when there was just us, we’d sit with Jess.
“I’m going to go back to tech on Monday,” Pippa said yesterday. “I can’t stay away any longer.”
Jess’s mother nodded. “You’ve been wonderful this week, Pippa. But we can look after Jess and Isaac now.” The tears that are always there now nearly tipped over her lashes. I’d never seen Jess’s mother anything except happy and positive until now.
But I guess she’s just lost her only grandchild and has to help Jess and Isaac cope. It must be so hard to stay strong.
She turned to me. “And you’re leaving on Monday, Milly?”
I nodded. “Mum has booked my flights.” As soon as the doctor cleared me to fly, Mum and Dad organised everything. Tobias and Karim have already gone. They’re winging their way to Mum’s.
I feel I’m deserting Jess and Isaac, but there is so little I can do for them. So, I agreed to go.
Jess’s mum hugged us both. “I’m so grateful to both of you for the last week. I don’t know how we would have coped without your help.”
Cole arrives at work this morning early to get the four horses Dad has running today ready to race. I guess he’s done it before, but not as the racing manager.
I’ve seen Dad on race day a thousand times, and it looks like Cole’s doing everything the way Dad does. A light breakfast for the horses. Some trainers think they run better if you don’t feed them on race day, but Dad believes in a bit of hay and then a gentle run first thing in the morning. Then if they’re running late in the day, he’ll give them some grain mid-afternoon.
I get up and have breakfast early, and by the time I get to the stables, Cole already has Midnight Shadow out near the cross ties, holding him while Gary saddles up.
All the other horses are already on the track doing their early morning training. It seems strange not having my horses and riding them.
“Are you running Midnight this morning?” I ask Cole.
Cole nods. “Just a little jog. After he’s cooled off, we’ll load him and the others. Need to get to the racecourse in time for the vet check.”
Race day starts the same way as eventing does.
Cole turns to Gary. “Ready?”
“Yeah.” Cole gives Gary a leg up and as he settles into the saddle. Midnight sidesteps a bit, but Gary gets him under control. He’s still not one of Cole’s favourite people, but it looks like they’re learning to work together.
Hi Milly,” says Gary, as he adjusts his stirrups.
“Hi Gary, good luck today.”
“Thanks.”
I walk along with them as Cole leads the horse over to the track.
“Midnight can tell somethings up,” says Cole.
Honestly, Midnight is prancing not walking. “Yes, he seems excited.”
“Ready to race,” said Cole.
We watch Midnight jog around the practice track.
“What time are you leaving?” I ask. Cole will be driving the horse truck. He’ll be taking Fred, the jockeys, and one of the grooms. Dad and I are going to follow later and meet them at the stabling area.
“About seven. What about you and Tom?”
“A bit later, I think. Dad’s got stuff he has to take care of before we leave.” Dad really is starting to step back and leave it all to Cole, but Cole will have Fred with him, and Fred’s done this with Dad a thousand times.
By the time Dad and I arrive at Te Aroha, the course vet has Midnight out of his stable and is checking his tattoo to make sure he’s the right horse. There are people, and horse-trucks, and being horses stabled and being walked all around us. Organised bedlam. Not noisy, just busy.
Cole’s holding Midnight’s halter and acknowledges us with a nod. He looks great in a dressed-up way. Wearing a black cotton shirt and jeans, and black suede trainers with white soles and laces, rather than boots. He’s got it just right, it’s a good look. He looks young and tidy without going as far as the moleskin trousers and cream linen shirt that Dad and his friends wear.
The vet says something, and Cole nods then gets Midnight to jog away for about fifty metres, and back again while the vet watches his gait Then he goes through all the normal tests, palpating the horse’s legs and feeling for any heat or swelling.
Amelia and Charles join us as Cole is leading Midnight back to his stall. Amelia’s in a grey linen shift with high heels and a big floppy hat. I’m not sure how she manages to walk on the grass and look elegant.
Cole unclips the lead rope and hands the horse to the groom.
“Did the vet pass him?” asks Amelia when Cole comes over to us.
“Yep. No problem.” Cole grins at her. Lovely. “Now, if he gets over the exciting morning he’s had, and goes to sleep for a couple of hours, he’ll run like a dream.”
“All the paperwork dealt with?” asks Dad. Midnight Shadow is due to run in the second race on the card. He’s the first of our horses to race today.
Cole nods, “Yeah, Fred and I did that when we first arrived.”
“Is the race plan still the same?” Amelia asks.
Cole nods again. “Get out front early and stay there.” He sounds so confident and competent. No wonder Amelia and Charles are happy with him managing their horse.
We watch Midnight Shadow for a while. It’s not particularly exciting, almost immediately he lies down and goes to sleep.
“Now I need to go and help Fred with the other horses,” Cole says to Amelia. “I’ll text you when Midnight’s called to the receiving area. That should be,” he looks at his phone, “in about three hours.”
“Just time for a drink and something to eat,” says Dad. I’ve never seen him so relaxed on race day. He really is starting to step back from micro-managing everything.
“Where will you be?” Cole asks.
“The member’s stand.” No surprise there.
Do I want to spend time talking to owners and Dad’s friends and clients?
Not really. It’s not that I’m needy, but I’m leaving in two days and want to spend as much time with Cole as I can.
“I think I’ll stay here.” I’m not dressed for helping with horses, I’m in the dress Pippa talked me into buying to go to Hamilton with Cole the first time. But I’m not wearing heels, so at least walking around on the grass is easy.
Dad, Charles and Amelia head for the member’s stand, and Cole and I go and find Fred.
The next few hours fly by in a flurry of vet checks and fussing over the horses. Then after lunch, the horses for the first race are called to the receiving area.
“Us next,” says Cole. Midnight has finished his nap, and Cole and Gary have been getting him ready to race.
Then Gary goes into the horse truck to change into Amelia and Charles colours, and Cole gets a phone call.
He checks the caller ID. “Luke,” he says to me, then, “Yeah,” into the phone. I can hear Luke’s voice, but not what he’s saying. Cole’s nodding, and then says, “Yeah fine. Good idea.”
“Anything wrong?” I ask.
“No, Luke’s cancelled tomorrow night. He said it didn’t seem right for Stadium to play without Isaac.”
“Has he cancelled every weekend?”
“No, just this weekend. He said Harry understands us not playing tomorrow night, but he wants us back. Luke says it will give us time to rearrange some of the numbers so we can keep playing until Isaac feels up to it again.”
I guess that’s nice of Luke. Usually, he’s an arse, but sometimes he surprises me.
When Gary’s ready, he gets his riding saddle out of the truck. “I’ll head for the weighing room.”
Cole nods. “See you at the ring.”
Then the call comes for Midnight to go to the walking ring.
“Call for Race 2,” comes over the speakers in the stabling area. “All competitors to make their way there now.”
“You text Tom for me,” says Cole as he clips the lead rope onto Midnight’s bridle. “Tell him we’ve been called.”
As we’re walking across to the ring, I haul my phone out of my pocket and text Dad. Midnight is prancing, even more excited than before. I’m not sure if it’s the atmosphere, the commentators calling the first race, or the pounding of hooves on the track, or whether everyone around him is keyed up, but he’s picking up the exhilaration. He looks ready to burst out of his skin.
“He’s beautiful,” I say to Cole. There is nothing like a spirited racehorse for sheer power and awesome beauty.
“Yep.” Cole’s holding onto the lead rope and keeping his shoulder hard against Midnight’s to control and reassure him. This isn’t the time for him to bolt.
His tattoo gets rechecked, and I can see the vet watching Midnight and the other seven horses entered in the next race, checking how they are moving now and whether they are fit to race.
As we get to the walking ring, the noise from the stands and the commentator rises to a crescendo as the first race finishes.
The commentator calls the winner, and Cole turns to me and grins.
“That’ll be us next.”
“Hope so.”
He leads Midnight into the ring, and I stand at the rail with the other spectators watching the preparations. All the horses are led around so the public can view them.
Dad, Amelia and Charles find me.
“He’s looking great,” says Dad.
Amelia nods. “Cole’s doing an excellent job with him.”
Gary arrives and he and Cole saddle Midnight. The same is happening with the other horses. They’re all as skittish and difficult as Midnight is. But he looks the best, like polished coal, with muscles moving under the skin so his coat ripples like oil.
I see Cole and Gary talking. Last-minute riding instructions, I guess. Then Cole gives Gary a leg up. He says something to Gary, and Gary nods and grins. I bet Cole said, “Ride him like you stole him,” the way Dad does.
Then he unclips the lead rope, and Gary rides out to the track.
Cole folds the lead rope up as he walks over to us. “Let’s get a spot at the finish line.”
We all walk across the grass to the rail as close to the finish line as we are allowed.
We lean on the fence, and Cole drapes his arm over my shoulders as he concentrates on Midnight. Gary has him jogging and then cantering back around the track to warm him up.
“Not too much,” Cole mutters at Gary. Even though there’s no chance of Gary hearing him. Then he nods as Gary slows Midnight to a walk and starts to come back.
“Just want him warmed up not tired out.” It’s like Cole’s aware I’m here and that’s good, but most of his attention is on the horse on the track.
“Cole what gate did he draw?” Dad asks.
“Gate three,” says Cole.
“Good, he likes the inside.”
The conversation is tense and really just to fill in the time. We watch Midnight load into gate three.
There’s a hush all around us as most of the horses load easier. The last horse, the one on the outside, refuses to load and backs up. The jockey’s having trouble controlling him and the steward on a big, strong-looking white horse, probably an eventer by the look of him, helps with the horse, and finally he loads.
Then the starting horn roars and the race begins. At first, Midnight is just part of the crowd. It’s hard to see exactly where he is compared to the other horses.
The vet’s SUV is following the horses around on the narrow roadway behind the track. A huge video screen shows the horses racing, larger than life and more intensely coloured. Even on the screen, it’s hard to pick out Midnight in the bunch.
I feel Cole’s arm tighten around my shoulders. Dad’s doing his usual thing and moving his hands like he’s riding Midnight. The noise from the crowd on the stands and the commentator’s voice fades into the background.
