In Lonnie's Shadow by Chrissie Michaels

dead without their top hats or their ebony and silver-finished canes.
    ‘Thomas, how nice to see you.’
    Glumly aware of his own worn trousers, brown waistcoat and workman’s cap, Lonnie wished he could swipe the walking cane right out of Thomas Crick’s hand and whack him hard over the head with it.
    ‘Do try one of these delightful apples,’ Rose chirped. ‘They’re crisp and fresh. By far the sweetest in Melbourne. You’re allowed, it’s marketing.’
    Lonnie spat on an apple and slowly rubbed it into a shine on his sleeve before passing it to Crick. ‘The lady’s right, they’re the best in town.’
    Eyes brown as mud fixed coldly on Lonnie. ‘I don’t care to buy from street vendors.’
    ‘Not even for me?’ Rose asked.
    Thomas scowled. With his white-gloved hand he picked another apple. ‘This one.’
    He glowered at Lonnie and Lonnie glowered back. ‘That’ll be sixpence.’
    ‘A ridiculous price for one apple, McGuinness.’ Rose looked from one to the other in surprise.
    ‘You two know each other?’
    ‘The boy’s a stable hand. Maybe not for long. We don’t allow moonlighting. Can’t afford to have the hired help too tired to put in a decent day’s work.’ He reluctantly handed over a sixpence.
    Lonnie knew a threat when he heard one. So did Rose. ‘Thomas, how very unfair,’ she protested. ‘Mr McGuinness is obviously only helping his friend out as a favour.’ She looked anxiously at Carlo who was busy serving another customer, but was less than amused at the turn of events. Quarrels were not good for business.
    Lonnie had never liked Crick and he liked him even less now that he was trying to humiliate him and move in on Rose. ‘Even if I had three jobs, I could still do my work and ride as well as you, or as well as any other man.’
    ‘Don’t flatter yourself. Are you forgetting you’re paid to muck out? You may ride fair for a trumped- up stableboy, but you don’t compare with a true horseman.’
    Rose looked shocked. ‘Thomas, don’t be so rude.’ Lonnie felt his anger rising. ‘The only horse I’ve seen you win on is Lightning. Even a monkey could
    win on the back of a champion like him.’
    ‘If you believe you’re a better man than me, how about proving it in a real race?’
    ‘Which race will that be then?’
    ‘You’re both so quarrelsome. I’m going,’ snapped Rose to neither one in particular. ‘Don’t bother escorting me, Thomas, I shall take myself.’ Without a second look at either, and although it wasn’t raining, Rose unfurled her umbrella and walked off in a huff.
    ‘A race you’d only know about if you could be trusted to keep your mouth shut,’ Thomas said, once Rose was out of earshot. ‘A heavily wagered race.’
    Lonnie gave it some quick thought. It could only be the fixed one. ‘I’m listening,’ he said.
    ‘There’s a gentleman’s race coming up shortly.’
    ‘So I’m a gentleman now, am I?’
    ‘I merely want to prove,’ Crick hissed, ‘that a monkey can ride better than you. So I’ll be better than fair. You’ll get a good mount to ride and I swear I’ll still beat you. Let’s see, I’m willing to put you on …’ He paused for a moment as if he was contemplating a list of possible horses. ‘How about Lightning? Then there’ll be no doubt left as to who is the man and who is the ape.’
    Lonnie knew full well from his conversation with Bookie Win that no jockey had yet been named for Lightning. ‘So which horse are you riding?’
    ‘I’ll ride … let me see … I’ll ride … Trident. He’s never beaten Lightning so when I win that should convince you.’
    ‘As simple as that, eh?’
    ‘There is one condition.’ Crick eyed him frostily.
    Surprise, surprise, thought Lonnie. ‘And what’s that?’
    ‘Like every contestant you’ll have to place a ten pound entrance fee on yourself. Winner takes all.’
    ‘As if I have ten pounds!’
    ‘To prove how fair I’m being, I’ll put it in for you, but if you