Mount! by Jilly Cooper Page A

deserve an enormous drink.’
    ‘I don’t drink,’ said Gav curtly.
    ‘Oh poor you.’ There was a long, long pause. Then Etta stammered: ‘Quickly does love an audience, just like his mother.’
    Seeing the sweetness in her face, Gav volunteered that Quickly was a beautiful colt.
    ‘Soon get rid of that baby fur. Got a terrific walk like that greyhound,’ he noted, as Priceless sauntered past and lifted his leg on the generator.
    ‘I hope that won’t fuse all the caterers’ equipment,’ giggled Etta. ‘I do want Rupert to like Quickly. He is coming, isn’t he?’ she asked anxiously.
    ‘’Fraid not, can’t make it, had to go abroad.’ Gav paused, then added untruthfully, ‘Sent his apologies.’
    ‘Oh dear.’ The delight faded from Etta’s face. ‘Everyone’s so longing to meet him.’ Then as a ravishingly pretty, slender girl with her dark hair in two long plaits, drifted over, Etta told her, ‘Gavin works for Rupert, who sadly can’t make it.’
    So this is Eddie’s girlfriend. She’s heartbreaking, thought Gav – if I had any heart left to break.
    ‘Don’t tell anyone he’s not coming,’ advised Trixie. ‘They’ll soon be too hammered to mind.’ And, turning to Gav, ‘You’re just as good-looking and much younger.’
    A touch of colour stole into Gav’s cheeks as she handed him a glass of champagne and, when he shook his head, drained it herself before summoning a waitress to bring a refill for herself and a glass of orange juice for Gav. As Etta rushed off to look after everyone Trixie asked him: ‘What d’you do for Rupert?’
    ‘Go to the sales, sort out tricky horses.’
    ‘You’ll have your work cut out with Quickly. He bites.’
    ‘Like my husband Chippy Hackee,’ said Gav idly.
    ‘
Timmy Tiptoes!
I love that book,’ cried Trixie. ‘Singing in high squirrel voices, like all men out on the toot. But I don’t like Rupert, even though I know he’s your boss. I looked after a horse called Furious when he won the Gold Cup, but when he and Mrs Wilkinson were moved to Penscombe for the National, Rupert let Wilkie’s stable lad move in and look after her, but he wouldn’t let a stupid schoolgirl like me near the place.’
    Gav said nothing; his silences made Trixie gabble. He was very handsome, she thought. If only his beautiful grey eyes with their thick black lashes would meet hers occasionally. Then he suddenly said, ‘Rupert’s been good to me. He looks after his own. His jockeys jump through fire for him.’
    Trixie shrugged. ‘Probably the preferable alternative.’ Then, ultra-casual, ‘Is Eddie coming?’
    ‘Said he was. Promised to give me a lift, but didn’t show. Probably jet-lagged.’
    ‘Did he have a good time in America?’ Trixie smiled at the press who were snapping away.
    Gav, turning his back on them, said, ‘He did, but he’s decided to do another stint at Penscombe.’
    ‘Oh really?’ The tension seeped out of Trixie. ‘Do you think he’ll crack jump racing?’
    ‘Not sure if he’s got the patience or the discipline.’
    ‘“Ride ten thousand days and nights, Till old age has snow white hairs on thee” – hmm, it’s not quite Eddie.’ Trixie grabbed another glass from a passing waitress then, taking a whole plate of canapés from another, she led Gavin to a bench under a cherry tree that was idly raining down pink blossom.
    ‘Look at Wilkie,’ she added fondly as Mrs Wilkinson wandered around, touchingly pleased to see her old syndicate friends. ‘She’s such a hostess, like Granny,’ as Etta raced around, seeing glasses were full, offering food, gathering up anyone who looked lonely. As they watched, a tall, good-looking but self-important man bore down on her and, not seeing Gav and Trixie under the cherry tree, drew her in their direction.
    ‘That’s Granny’s ghastly son Martin,’ whispered Trixie. ‘He’s a fundraiser, always on the scrounge. No charity in his heart.’
    ‘Now you’ve opened Badger’s Court to