10
Dylan read with interest all the details of the Cotswold Races and Country Fair on the computer screen in front of him. It told him all he needed to know – that Phoenix would be eligible to enter. He also needed a rider for the horse. Having been a professional jockey, he was ruled out, as the meeting was run entirely for veteran and novice riders. Despite the objections he knew full well would come from Flora, Dylan had approached Josh, their best groom, who was more than happy to ride Phoenix. Josh was used to riding him and knew the horse, albeit not like Flora did, but Dylan just couldn’t put her in what he knew to be a dangerous position.
His thoughts turned to his last race, the only one he had fallen in. Although he had suffered concussion, bruising and broken ribs, it was minor compared to what he could have sustained. He knew jockeys who had been paralysed through racing and his blood turned cold at the very thought of Flora being injured in any way at all. Josh, who had showed interest and potential in jump racing, had had the necessary training, plus he would be stronger than Flora. All Dylan needed to do was submit his entry and fee to the Point-to-Point Racing Company Ltd, which he was about to do online, when Flora entered the yard office. She sidled up behind him and kissed his cheek. She then narrowed her eyes to see what was on his screen.
‘I’m registering Phoenix in the Cotswold Races,’ he explained.
‘So I see. Dylan, I’ve been thinking—’
‘No way,’ he replied flatly.
‘You don’t know what I was about to say!’ she replied in exasperation.
‘Yes I do. And the answer is no, you are not riding Phoenix in the point-to-point.’
‘But, Dylan—’
‘Flora, no. It’s not going to happen. I’m entering Josh as the rider.’
Flora had suspected this would be the case. Just then Dylan’s mobile rang. Sighing he fished it out of his jeans pocket. The caller display apparently told him this call may be a lengthy one, so he eased off his chair, took his cup of coffee and sat on the nearby settee for comfort. Flora was still standing by his computer. The keyboard was calling her. All she had to do was delete Josh’s details, retype her own in and press send. Job done. She quickly glanced over to Dylan, who was deep in conversation now. On impulse she did it. Dylan was too engrossed to notice what she had done, all in a few split seconds.
A sly smile spread across her face. She, Flora Tudor, would race her beloved Phoenix at the Cotswold Races. A message pinged back confirming the submission was received. She quickly marked it as read; meanwhile Dylan was still talking on his phone. When eventually he hung up, he returned to his computer. Flora was sat at her desk in the corner of the office. She knew Dylan would assume he’d sent his submission on seeing the email from the racing company.
‘It’s all gone through,’ Flora called casually, hoping he wouldn’t read the confirmation message with her details on.
‘Good,’ replied Dylan as he took another phone call. Phew, thought Flora in relief.
