At Long Odds (A Racing Romance) (29 page)

BOOK: At Long Odds (A Racing Romance)
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‘Hey Ginny, it’s Charlie.’

She paused, collecting herself before speaking.

‘Hi Charlie. Didn’t realise you were still in town.’

‘I’m leaving tomorrow. I just thought – I mean, I just hoped we could meet up for a drink tonight before I go.’

Ginny didn’t know if her already strained emotions could deal with a meeting with her ex-boyfriend.

‘I don’t think so, Charlie.’

‘I know, I know. But I just wanted to talk to you. I
need
to talk to you.’

‘There’s nothing for us to talk about.’

‘Come on, Ginny. There was a lot that went unsaid like – look, please could we just meet up? Just one drink, that’s all.’

Ginny sighed. What harm could one drink do?

‘Okay.’

‘Great. The Tetrarch at seven?’

‘Okay, I’ll see you later.’

‘Thanks, Ginny.’

*

Showered and changed, Ginny walked to the Tetrarch. She scanned the pub, the Friday night revellers still sparse in the early evening. She caught sight of Charlie sitting at a table near the rear of the pub and headed towards him. She noticed he had already bought a drink for her. His face crinkled into a smile when he saw her and he gestured to the chair opposite him.

‘How’s it going?’

‘Okay,’ Ginny replied. ‘You?’

‘Got an early start tomorrow so keeping it quiet tonight.’

‘Looking forward to going back?’ she said, settling into the armchair.


Ja
.Can only take so much of the English weather.’

‘It’s summer,’ Ginny snorted.

‘Still,’ he replied, motioning to the umbrella she had brought in with her.

‘Fair enough. So what was so important?’

Charlie fiddled with his pint of lager.

‘I wanted to say I was sorry.’

Ginny waved him away.

‘Charlie, I’ve got over it. I’ve got over
us
. It’s a bit late to apologise.’

‘No, you don’t understand.
I
didn’t understand. When I got jocked off in the J&B Met, I blamed you. I didn’t see it as being anyone else’s fault except yours.’

‘And I told you at the time, I didn’t have a choice.’

Morose, Charlie shook his head.

‘You bruised my ego, big time. So I went out and tried to boost it again.’

‘Charlie –’ Ginny began. She didn’t want to relive the J&B Met.

‘No,’ he interrupted her, holding up his hand. ‘It was the wrong thing to do, cheating on you like that. I did it to make me feel better and to make you feel bad. And that wasn’t fair.’

‘No, it wasn’t,’ Ginny said in a small voice.

‘So, I’m sorry. It’s only since you’ve been back over here and I’ve seen how Rijk Swanepoel works without you. I know now that he doesn’t actually have friends. He has
associates
. People who will help him.’

Ginny was reminded of her conversation with the South African trainer and the chance he was giving her.

‘He’s not as bad as all that. He does have some friends.’

‘Well, I was an associate.’ Charlie took a swallow of beer, then wiped the froth from his upper lip. ‘But then that’s not the only thing I need to apologise to you about.’

‘Did you cheat on me on other occasions?’

‘No! No, of course not. I mean since the J&B Met. Mark Rushin.’

‘Aah, Mark Rushin,’ Ginny nodded, tapping her fingers on the table. ‘Did you know what he was doing? Were you in on it?’

Charlie shook his head. He traced a finger down the side of his glass, soaking up the condensation in a long line. Ginny saw the tremor in his touch.

‘I wasn’t in on it. You have to believe me.’

‘Why should I?’

‘Because I’m not a bad guy, Ginny. Would you have come all the way over to South Africa if I was?’

‘No, but I don’t seem to be a very good judge of character.’

‘I wasn’t in on it. But…’ he paused and took a deep breath. ‘I knew what he was capable of. You cropped up in conversation once when he was down in the Cape and I mentioned you were back here training for your dad. He said he’d look you up. I tried to convince myself that I was being good by sending you business, but I knew deep down what he might try to do.’

Ginny sat in silence, digesting his words.

‘Maybe I would’ve blamed you a while ago, Charlie.’ She smiled and shook her head, feeling bewildered. ‘But I don’t. I don’t hold you responsible for what Mark did. It wasn’t your fault.’

‘But don’t you see? It
was
my fault.’ Charlie leaned forward in his chair, cupping his pint with both hands. ‘Which is why I had to do something about it. When I heard about the dodgy accidents going on at your yard after Rushin left, I knew he had something to do with it. So I had to stop it. I told the cops.’

Ginny gasped and fell back in her chair, slopping her drink over her lap. Oh God! What had she done? She had accused Julien of ruining everything – but in actual fact,
she
was the one who’d ruined it all. How could she have been so narrow-minded? She hadn’t even contemplated someone else knowing about Mark’s race fixing. Her heart sank as she recalled the way she had treated Julien at the party.

Who had betrayed who exactly, she now wondered? All he’d ever done was try to help and protect her, and every time she had managed to misinterpret him and throw it back in his face. This time she knew she had gone too far. That parting look, the finality that was on his face when she’d slapped him, told her that was the end of everything. At the time, with emotions running high, it hadn’t mattered so much, but now – now that she knew he wasn’t to blame, it
did
matter, and it was too late.

‘Ginny? Are you okay?’

Charlie’s presence drifted back to her.

‘Um, I don’t know. I – no, I don’t think I am, to be honest.’

‘I’m sorry, Ginny. I feel like shit for having sent him your way. He won’t bother you again. I’ll make sure of that.’

The shock of knowing it wasn’t Julien who had told the police overruled any anger she might have felt for Charlie over the same crime.

‘No, it’s okay, Charlie. I just didn’t realise it was you who had reported Mark. I thought – I thought it was someone else.’

‘Do you forgive me?’

‘What?’ She shook her head, trying to clear the daze. ‘Charlie, I don’t hold you responsible for what Mark did. You don’t have to ask for forgiveness.’

‘No, but for everything. Not just about that.’

Ginny looked at him, seeing the doubt and insecurity swimming in his eyes. He played the big, tough guy but really he was just as vulnerable as the next person, she realised.

‘We all make mistakes,’ she said, thinking of how she’d treated Julien. ‘You hurt me, that I won’t deny. But I hurt you too so I should be apologising to you as well.’

‘Shall we call it quits?’ Charlie’s mouth tugged into a white grin, the crows’ feet at his eyes deepening and she recognised the man she had followed halfway across the world to be with. She smiled.

‘Quits.’

 

Chapter Thirty-Two

Ginny wasn’t sure how to approach Julien – if at all. She didn’t think popping round to his house like she’d done last time would really cut it on this occasion. She knew she needed to apologise but was so ashamed of her behaviour that she dared not look at him whenever their paths crossed.

In turn, Julien ignored her.

Ginny felt further deflated a few days later when, after making the long trek over to Bath, Pacifist, and two other Ravenhill Stables’ representatives could only manage a measly third between them. She saw off Darragh, Kerry and Alex in the lorry and went back to have a drink with Pacifist’s owners who were over from Wales. By the time she got to her car in the sparse-looking car park, it was already gone six o’clock.

With an exhausted sigh, she dropped into her seat and plonked her bag down in the passenger footwell. She turned the key in the ignition and the car gave a half-hearted choke and a wheeze. Ginny’s blood flowed a couple of degrees cooler with dread. She tried again, pumping the accelerator, but still the only response was that of a dying engine. She rested her head for a moment on the steering wheel before popping the bonnet and getting out again. She knew that looking at the engine would be pretty useless, and it was only if something obvious was wrong like loose wires sprouting out from under the maze of pipes and tanks, that she might glean what the problem was. Nevertheless, she opened the hood and peered in. Nothing inside gave her any clue; it all looked just as it should, except very dirty and very dead. Ginny gave up.

‘Bloody,
bloody
car!’ she fumed, kicking the front wheel. ‘Now what am I supposed to do?’ She ran the options through her head. Why, oh, why hadn’t she got insurance with breakdown cover?

Because it was cheaper without, she admitted to herself. If she could get a lift to a train station, then she could probably get back to Cambridge, but the trains to Newmarket would more than likely have already stopped by the time she got there. She might’ve called Ray had he not been in Portsmouth visiting friends. She would have to call her parents instead to come pick her up but she didn’t want her father to drive all the way to Cambridge and she knew Beth hated driving on the motorway, especially in the dark. She was just considering flagging down a departing horse lorry and asking for a lift home, when a car pulled up next to her. With a sinking heart, she recognised Julien’s black Lotus.

Suddenly terrified of what he might say to her, she stuck her head under the bonnet again, pretending to be engrossed in the engine works.

‘Get in,’ Julien said, leaning his head out the window and glaring at her.

‘What?’

‘Get in. You’ve broken down presumably?’

‘Yes,’ Ginny sighed.

‘Well, come on. You’re not going to get back to Newmarket in that tonight.’

He sneered at the rustlined Fiesta and she took immediate exception despite having looked at it the same way just moments ago. She wavered. She could sleep in the car. It wouldn’t be very comfortable but she could put up with one uncomfortable night. She was already so tired she’d probably sleep like a log anyway.

‘They won’t let you sleep in it here,’ Julien said, reading her thoughts. ‘Now, do I have to drag you?’

‘No, no, you don’t have to do that,’ Ginny replied. Slamming the bonnet shut, she flounced round to the driver’s side to retrieve her handbag then paused to lock the car. Not that it would go very far if someone did try stealing it, she conceded.

Stepping into Julien’s car, the pleasant smell of leather and faint aftershave mingled together.

‘Seat belt,’ Julien instructed.

‘If you’d give me a chance…’ muttered Ginny.

He thrust the car into gear and put his foot down.

Ginny buckled up, her aim for the clasp clumsy in her haste. Once they were out of the car park, she risked a look at his profile. His eyebrows were drawn together and she could see the shadow of a muscle jumping in his jaw. He didn’t look in the best of spirits.

‘Why are you helping me?’ she ventured at last.

‘Honestly, I don’t know,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘God knows you don’t deserve it.’

‘I didn’t ask for a lift,’ Ginny said, feeling offended. ‘So just let me out here, and I’ll make my own way home.’

Julien’s hand shot out and he grabbed her wrist as she went to unbuckle her seat belt.

‘Don’t be so bloody stupid,’ he snarled.

Feeling even more wounded, Ginny snatched her hand away and rubbed her wrist where his iron-firm grasp had left its marks.

Julien put his hand back on the steering wheel, gripping it until his knuckles turned white and glowered at the road in front of them. They sat in awkward silence for a couple of minutes, both dwelling in their own thoughts.

Ginny was trying to sum up the courage to apologise to him. This wasn’t how she’d planned on it happening.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said, staring straight ahead. It hadn’t come out particularly apologetic and out the corner of her eye she saw Julien look at her. She turned to face him with a pleading expression. ‘I am, really,’ she said again, more genuinely. ‘Anything I say would just sound like an excuse if I tried to explain it all. But honestly, when I heard Mark had been arrested, I couldn’t think of anyone else who knew apart from you. I hadn’t thought of Charlie. And when you hit him… Well, I was frightened, and I didn’t know what would happen.’ She searched his face for some reaction.

He wasn’t scowling so much now, but his mouth was still a thin angry line as he clenched his teeth.

She felt compelled to go on. ‘When I thought you’d told the police, it made me think you didn’t care, and you punching Mark kind of made it worse.’ She waited again to see if he’d say anything, but still he stared straight in front of him. ‘Will you say something!’ she exclaimed. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t trust you, and I’m sorry I slapped you! But please say something!’

Julien manoeuvred the car onto the motorway, concentrating on merging with the rush hour traffic, and Ginny was forced to wait before she had his attention again.

‘Every time I’ve tried to help you, you’ve thrown it back in my face,’ he said at last. The calmness in his voice was almost as frightening as when he was angry. ‘God knows what I was thinking offering you a lift. Why do you find it so hard to trust me?’

‘I don’t,’ Ginny replied, then frowned at her blatant lie. ‘Well, maybe just a bit. We’re rivals in our work, and maybe I just thought… I don’t know, maybe I thought you’d told the police to make Ravenhill suffer.’ Her voice trailed away, ashamed at the poisonous assumptions she had made.

‘You think I’d stoop that low?’ Julien looked disgusted and Ginny couldn’t blame him.

‘I didn’t know what to think! All I knew was that you – or so I thought – had gone to the police, and made things worse for me. What other conclusion could I have reached?’

‘You could have believed me when I told you it wasn’t me.’

‘You’d just broken Mark’s nose – you couldn’t have made things worse if you’d tried.’

‘He was threatening you!’ he said, banging the steering wheel with his hand.

‘I would’ve been okay!’

‘You didn’t look it. Anyway, he deserved it,’ Julien grunted.

BOOK: At Long Odds (A Racing Romance)
5.35Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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