A Gift From The Hart - Part 2

by Maati4121

Jonathan and Jennifer are plunged into the world of international showjumping. Sequel to A Gift From The Hart

SUNDAY

There was darkness. It surrounded her. Pulsing, palpable, malevolent, a tangible being. The fear had evaporated, her mind and body exhausted. All that remained was the need to survive. Carnal, feral instinct that ticked electricity and activity into her brain. Move.

H2H

JULY

Jennifer focussed on nothing but the rhythm of her breathing as it matched the pounding of her feet on the pavement, ignoring the protest of her thigh muscles and the rate of her heart as she pressured her body into greater speed up the hill. Her chest heaved as she gasped a deeper breath forcing the moisture out of her mouth, her mind flashing a panicked thought that she couldn't make it. Feeling irrational comfort from the punishment, the knot of anxiety inside her began to ebb and she pressed on.

Jonathan's eyelids flickered as he felt consciousness tug him out of a dream that evaporated from his sight. He turned his head, pressing his face deeper into his pillow, resisting the call of the morning. He stretched his arm across the satin sheets, seeking the warmth of his wife's body but found only a ruffled sheet. His eyes were slow to focus as he raised his head, first noting the empty bed beside him then the clock's early hour. Frowning, he pushed himself upright, swinging his legs to the side of the bed as he rubbed his palm down his face. He inclined his head, listening for the sound of the shower. "Darling?"

He rose to his feet and wandered into their en-suite, raising a curious brow at the empty room. He bent over the marble sink and splashed water on his face, the bite of the cold snapping his tired mind awake. It wasn't until moments later when he had finished shaving and was towelling his face dry that he heard a footstep in the bedroom behind him. He looked into the mirror and watched his wife wander into the room, her face flushed with exertion, her running clothes damp, her hair darkened and curlier from the moisture.

"Good morning, darling." She took the towel he offered and dabbed at her forehead and neck.

"Been running again?"

She nodded, sliding her hand across his shoulder blade as she walked past him.

"How far today?"

"7 miles." She backed up to the sink and jumped onto the dressing area.

"Trying out for the long distance running team?"

She lifted a shoulder. "I'm trying to get back in shape."

"Darling." He leant across and brushed her mouth with his. "You are in great shape."

She reached up and touched his upper arm with affection but said nothing.

He analysed her with a narrowed eye. "I know what you're trying to do."

She slid down to her feet. "I need a shower."

He caught her arm with his hand and stopped her. "Darling, please."

She raised her eyes to his, waiting.

"Stop torturing yourself."

She felt heat spread at the back of her eyes and the familiar burn at her throat that signalled the onset of tears.

"It's not your burden to carry alone." He stroked her upper arm. "She was part of me too."

She lowered her anguished eyes and tightened her fist around a handful of her hair. "I can't stop thinking of how I failed you." She swallowed back a gasp of pain. "How I failed her."

"It wasn't you. She wasn't strong enough to make it. And it's better for it to happen when it did than several weeks down the line." He pulled her to him, pressing his lips against her temple as he drew her head against the hollow of his shoulder. "I can't stand to see you suffering this way."

Her shoulders shuddered as she buckled under the pressure of withholding her emotion.

He tangled his fingers into her damp hair and bent his head to hers, his breath dancing across her cheek as he whispered, "I love you."

She yielded to the pressure and permitted release to her tears, clinging to him as he held her. "I'm so sorry."

He drew her closer against his body. "Jennifer, don't. You have nothing to be sorry for."

"But why couldn't I keep her?"

"Her condition was genetic; this result was inevitable. Your body made the kindest decision for her, you saved her from a life of suffering." He cupped her chin and raised her head. "Darling, there's a chance this won't happen for us, but whatever awaits us down the road we'll handle together. Because nothing is stronger than us. You complete me, and I couldn't love you more."

A single tear escaped over her lid and drifted over her cheek onto his finger.

"But if this is something you want, when you feel ready we can try again." He lifted a brow, his eyes on hers. "Okay?"

Her chin trembled. "I love you."

He bent his head and kissed her gently.

H2H

Jonathan slid into a chair at the kitchen table, reaching for the paper with little interest, his troubled thoughts on his wife.

Max held a glass coffee pot aloft. "It's fresh, Mr H."

Jonathan blinked, his mind startled back to the kitchen. "Thanks."

Max leant forward and filled Jonathan's cup. "Freeway, get away from the table."

Jonathan reached across and fingered the dog's velvet ears. "He's alright."

Max straightened. "Is Mrs H coming down?"

"Yes, she's just taking a shower."

"She's not herself, Mr H, she's taken it real hard."

"You're right. I'd like to do something for her, cheer her up. Any thoughts?"

"Few days of sun somewhere?"

"No, nothing that will allow her to dwell on things. Something to keep her involved, active."

Max paused for a moment, in thought. Placing the coffee jug onto the table, he wandered over to the phone and rifled through a handful of pink message slips. "Stan Williams called, wanted you to know he's going to some big deal event at the end of the month."

Jonathan raised a curious brow, taking the slip from Max and eyeing the number. "Is Heartbreaker going?"

"I guess so, he didn't say much."

"Thanks, Max, could be just the tonic Jennifer needs." He pushed his chair back and rose to his feet. "What's the time difference – 8 hours?"

Max turned his wrist and consulted his watch. "Should be mid-afternoon over there."

Jonathan lifted the telephone's handset and punched in the number, patiently waiting whilst the international call was connected. "Stan? Jonathan Hart."

"Ah, Jonathan, you got my message?" The sound of shod hooves clattered against the tarmac and Stan's voice became assertive. "Stand up."

"Is this a bad time?"

"Naw. One of the young stallions is throwing his weight around."

"How's Heartbreaker?"

"Real good. Got her qualifications for the 5 year old second rounds already. I thought it'd be good exposure for her to see the Derby track, see if we can't qualify her for the main arena."

"I'll defer to your judgment, Stan, you know what she needs."

"It's never a bad thing for them to see the big venues at a young age, prepares them for when the stakes are higher."

"Is this place a big deal?"

"All England Jumping Ground in East Sussex, most prestigious in England. It'd be worth the trip if you and your wife can spare the time."

"I think it's a great idea, I'm sure Jennifer would love to see Heartbreaker in action."

"Bring your cheque book, if you're serious about investing in the sport horse breeding program I've got a stallion with your name on it."

Jonathan laughed. "This isn't my area of expertise."

"Maybe not but you'll be hard pressed not to see the quality in this animal. The owners are waiting to announce him onto the market until after the Derby; he's favourite to win and if he does his price will skyrocket."

"If he's so great why are they selling?"

"Dissolving a partnership. I've ridden for them for years, him and an 8 year old are the last to go."

"Will you have them both at the Derby?"

"Yes, sir, the 8 year old's in the 1.35m Grade B class."

Jonathan sighed with light hearted resignation. "Don't let my wife find out."

"Give up, I'm relying on her to persuade you."

Jonathan smiled. "I'll get my secretary to call you for the travel details."

"See you at Hickstead."

H2H

TUESDAY

"This place has quite a history." Jennifer flicked through the pages of a glossy brochure. "Built in the backyard of Douglas Bunn in 1960 to rival courses on the continent. The bank is the biggest in the world at 10'6. Wow, darling, look at that." She held the brochure aloft. "Can you imagine riding down that then jumping a rail as tall as me as soon as you land?"

He glanced briefly at the picture then back at the road ahead, pleased at the enthusiasm that sparkled in her eyes. "You're really excited about this."

She twisted in her seat. "Yes, I am. I can't wait to see Heartbreaker in the ring. She's not going down that bank is she?"

"No, she'll be jumping a smaller version in one of the outer rings."

"I don't want her to be hurt."

"Stan makes sure she gets the best possible care." He glanced up and read the overhead motorway sign as they sped past a junction. "He's really pleased with her progress. He said she'll get a holiday in the paddock after this show."

She nodded. "She deserves it, she's worked hard." She turned her head and watched the East Sussex countryside whip past the passenger window. "Shame the quarantine laws are so strict, Max and Freeway would've enjoyed this."

"I'll say. He'd've been in his element, there's big excitement betting on the Derby."

She smiled. "Didn't he ask you to put something on for him?"

"I'll put a few pounds on for both of us, Stan reckons the stallion he's riding in the Derby is favourite to win."

"This must be the most exciting week in the showjumping calendar."

"It's certainly one of them; people come from all over the world to chase one of the sport's biggest prize funds."

She lifted a piece of notepaper from the dashboard and browsed Deanne's meticulous instructions. "How much farther?"

"We can't be far now. What does it say after the A23?"

She scanned the bottom of the page. "Nothing. It says stay on the A23 until – oh here we are." She gestured to the huge green overhead sign that took up the width of 2 out of the 3 lanes. "Hickstead Showground. That must be us."

Jonathan eased his foot from the accelerator as he hit the slip road and made a right turn at the roundabout at the top. "Stan said to ignore the main entrance and follow the horsebox entrance about ½ mile further up."

Jennifer eyed the queue of traffic inching toward the 2 lane entrance gates as they cruised past and retraced their steps on the A23. "Feels like we're going the wrong way."

"We'll have to take his word for it. See another exit?"

"Not yet." Jennifer reached across and squinted through the trees that flickered past Jonathan's window. "I can see the showground."

"Ah." Jonathan raised a finger toward the windshield. "This could be it."

Jennifer straightened and peered dubiously at the innocuous junction that led up to a small roundabout. "It says Haywards Heath."

"What does that little yellow sign say?"

She laughed softly. "Horsebox entrance. Ooh, careful darling that's a tight turn."

"Stan's wagon is enormous, I wonder how he got through."

"Must've been snug."

Jonathan followed the single lane concrete track for 500 yards before coming to a halt behind an idling horsebox. "I guess everyone arrives at the same time."

Jennifer nodded, her eyes drifting up a ladder on the lorry's side to the roof where several bales of hay were securely strapped. "Is that a satellite dish?"

Jonathan smiled. "I guess these international riders want home entertainment in the evenings."

She fidgeted impatiently. "How long do you think we'll have to wait? I could use a bathroom."

"Jump out and take a walk, see how far the line is."

She shot him a sideways glance and popped her door open, skipping around the front of the car and wandering up the track in front of him. He watched her go, admiring the slim tightness of her calves, the hint of her thigh beneath the white skirt she wore, the way the material embraced and accentuated the curve of her backside. More than 10 years together and she still affected him the way she always had; if anything, the deeper his love became, the greater his desire.

Mere seconds passed before she ran back toward the car and jumped into the passenger seat. "There's only that lorry in front of us and it's moving now."

Jonathan cruised the car forward, pulling it to a stop in front of a white barrier adjacent to a wooden hut and lowered his window.

The security officer who stepped to the window cut an imposing figure dressed in black pressed trousers, starched white shirt and tie housing the badge of the security company. "Sir?"

"Jonathan and Jennifer Hart."

He scanned the clipboard he held and shook his head. "Not on the list."

"Stan Williams told me to pick up passes for me and my wife here."

"Oh, you're with Stan Williams?" He reached behind him into the hut and drew a large white envelope from the top of a make shift filing cabinet. Rifling through it, he withdrew an A5 size vehicle pass and two metal Members badges with tags. "Here are your passes, sir, they will give you access to all areas including the owners and members areas within the international zone. See that you're wearing them at all times whilst on the showground."

Jonathan passed them over to Jennifer.

"If you drive forward to the fork in the road, the parking steward will direct you to where Stan's box is parked." He gestured to his colleague to raise the barrier.

Jonathan lifted his fingers. "Thanks." Nudging the car into gear and inching forward he muttered to his wife, "High security for a horse jumping event?"

She nodded. "I guess there's a lot of high value animals here."

He slowed at the fork and waited for the steward to approach them with directions. "And vehicles." He gestured to the field in front of them, a colourful array of all sizes and types of horse transport. "Have you seen the size of those horseboxes? Maybe we should get one. Sure would beat camping."

"Jonathan you made it." Stan brushed his palm on dusty jeans and held out a hand. "Good journey?"

Jonathan felt the firm grip of a hard working hand. "Stan, good to see you. It was fair, much closer from Heathrow than your Yorkshire home."

Stan laughed. "It's a bit of a trip for the horses down here but it's worth it." He indicated to the churned up grass and dirt surrounding the temporary wooden stable blocks. "Although you're not seeing the best of it here."

"Are the horses all settled in?"

He nodded. "They've had a leg stretch around the showground, the grooms are just settling them down for the night."

Jennifer bent to stroke the head of a Jack Russell terrier that had wandered over with curiosity. "How has Heartbreaker coped with the journey and the big venue?" The owner gave a whistle and the dog scampered away.

"Like a pro so far." Stan jerked his head. "Why don't you come on back and see her. And you can meet the rest of the crew." He tilted his head as he led the way through the rows of temporary stabling. "Watch where you walk, it's muddy in places."

Jonathan held out his hand as he stepped forward and Jennifer fell in step beside him, her fingers naturally finding his. She tiptoed across the grass, skirting around the dirt of a rustic stable area, keeping her high heels from sinking. Stan disappeared down a row several yards from the lorry park and they followed, Jennifer gasping with delight as she saw the familiar black head over the corner stable door. "Hi, baby." She cupped Heartbreaker's muzzle and kissed the bottom of her nose. "Oh Stan she looks wonderful." She reached up and patted her glossy neck.

"She's put on some muscle and condition," he concurred. "I'm pleased with her." He ducked his head over the stable door and gestured to the slight young dark haired girl who crouched at the horse's foreleg, deftly wrapping a dark blue bandage onto the mare's leg. "This is Emily, one of my hardworking travel grooms. Emily, Mr and Mrs Hart, Heartbreaker's owners."

She looked up and nodded with a smile without interrupting her task. "Pleased to meet you."

"All ok here? Nearly done?"

Emily pressed the Velcro strap in place and rose to her feet, brushing stray shavings from her jeans. "Yep, Lisa's just making the feeds and we're done."

"Great. C'mon back to the lorry when you're ready, Claire will have supper on."

Stan moved on to the next stable and patted the neck of a grey mare who stood anxiously nodding her head and weaving over the stable door. "This is Megganne, a very useful 8 year old mare. I've produced her from a 3 year old for her owners, I'm kind of hoping whoever buys her will let me keep the ride."

Jonathan reached up and palmed her cheek. "Is this one of the ones you mentioned on the phone?"

"Yes, sir."

"She seems a little upset."

"She takes a little time to settle at these busy shows. She'll be alright." He moved on to the next stable where a lively bright bay mare nudged at her stable door, her inquisitive eyes seeking a treat. "This is one of mine, Spirit of Pandora, a 6 year old – she's tricky but very capable, she's just moving up to 1.30m." He fished in his pocket and produced a herbal treat, flicking her nostril with affection as she snatched it from him. In the next stable a dark liver chestnut gelding quietly chewed a mouthful of hay. "My lovely old horse Calypso's Folly. He's 14 but still very competitive in the ring, earns his keep everywhere he goes." He held out a hand. "And my two best horses. The bright chestnut is my speed horse Granville and the bay on the end is the stallion Dandini's Return who's the favourite to win Sunday's Derby. But," he winked at Jennifer, "your task before the weekend is to persuade your husband to buy this boy. Don't let him wait for the price to triple when he wins and I'm forced to let him go to some idiot who can't ride him."

She flashed her eyes to her husband before turning back to Stan. "You think a lot of him."

"One of the best horses I've sat on. Can't wait to see how his first crop of foals turn out."

She analysed her husband's doubtful expression with a narrowed eye. "I've got my work cut out for me, Stan, he doesn't look convinced."

"I have faith in your powers of persuasion."

She snagged her bottom lip with a sly smile and squeezed Jonathan's hand.

"How are you going to manage to compete all 6 of these horses, Stan?" Jonathan asked.

"Billy Stafford is my work rider, he rides some of them in the ring for me. He's travelling down from Wales to meet us here later. It's still often a struggle to co-ordinate but my team is really good at organising me and the timetable for each horse, couldn't do it without them." He thrust a hand into his back pocket. "Well that's about it. Do you feel like taking a wander around the showground while it's quiet and meeting us back at the lorry later for some supper? My wife has a huge pot of chilli on."

"Sounds great, thank you." He tipped his head to his wife. "Darling?"

She nodded. "See you later."

H2H

Twilight was descending on the hot July day, the sun making its lazy descent behind the trees casting shadows and a welcome cool across the quiet showground. Jonathan and Jennifer strolled hand in hand on the concrete pedestrian side of the horsewalk, pausing briefly at a narrow wooden slatted footbridge that straddled a drainage ditch where a security guard asked to see their passes. Directly opposite them as they crossed was the International warm up arena that served the main ring only, confirmed by a sign pinned to the gate. They paused for a few moments to watch with awe a tall dark haired man working an impressive black stallion, the skilled man barely moving from position as he coaxed the elegant animal into response, the canter graceful before springing effortlessly over an oxer taller than Jennifer. He indicated to his groom with his thumb and uttered a few German words that gave away his nationality.

Moving on, they walked up the incline past a refreshments building and ducked under a metal barrier to the formal entrance of the International arena. The tall secretary and members building to the left, the rows of covered members gallery to their right, the red brick surround of the chute and the ostentatious sign all added to the awe inspiring atmosphere. The ring was vast, immaculately kept grass the ideal height, the going perfect, the huge fences already erected for the following day. Boom microphones were set strategically at target fences that the TV cameras would capture. Four huge screens were dotted between the tiered seating areas to ensure nobody missed a second of the action. To the far left was the infamous Devil's Dyke, innocent and innocuous behind the trees that made it a difficult closed obstacle, the ditch in the middle barely noticeable to the eye of the rider, nor the horse, due to the way the ground dipped before and lifted after it. Two 3' white posts were crossed in front of it to indicate it was not to be jumped. This fence was one of the exclusive Derby fences not to be used until Sunday.

Several yards in front of them was the widest water jump in Europe and yawning beyond that right at the far end of the ring was the famous Derby bank, looking huge and imposing even from this distance, the 5'3" rails barely 9 yards from the bottom looking an impossible task.

Jennifer shook her head and crossed her arms. "Gosh, isn't it incredible?"

Jonathan stood behind her and kissed her temple, rubbing the chill from her upper arms with his palms. "It certainly is."

She dropped her head back onto his shoulder. "Thank you for bringing me here, darling."

He slid his arms over hers and drew her closer.

She hooked her little finger with his. "I mean for buying Heartbreaker too. She's brought us to this sport, to here, to learning new things and seeing new sights. I can't wait to see what the future holds for her."

"Can you see yourself as a leading owner of this sport, involved and following the action?"

She tilted her head to read his expression. "What do you mean?"

"Stan's serious about us buying those two horses, if you want them they're yours."

She stroked his hand with affection, in thought.

He lowered his mouth to her ear. "It would open up the opportunity for you to expose the horse world's underground through your writing, the illegal trading, export, conditions – not just for the sport horses but for the illegal meat trade."

She nodded. "It's tragic and too big to be effectively controlled by the authorities. But is this what you want, darling? Neither of the horses are cheap, especially Dandini."

"Stan's worried he'll get into the wrong hands, plus he wants to keep the ride."

"But wouldn't you rather have the horses at home? Stan is great but there must be someone in the US who could produce them for us?"

"With respect, the US aren't leaders in showjumping like the Europeans, and even then there's only Germany, Holland or England who are the best. And you know me, I don't settle for less."

She smiled, reaching up to touch his cheek as he kissed her throat. "You've given this a lot of thought."

He nodded. "Stanley was thorough with his research before I bought Heartbreaker. Shall we talk to Stan, get him to notify the owners?"

"Yes. Let's watch them jump first tomorrow."

"Deal." He took her hand. "It's getting cool. Shall we walk on?"

With a last glance at the still and silent main ring, she let her husband lead her on.

They circumvented the shuttered trade stands, quietly waiting for the onslaught of the following day. Ducking under the rope dividing the public and restricted areas, they wandered through the four outer rings, all set up with huge solid fences unique to Hickstead's style ready for the activity of competition day one. Ending up at the Members restaurant, closed until the competition officially started, they walked up the steps of the wooden balcony and sat, watching the sun dip over the adjacent enormous warm up arena that served all of the outer rings.

Jonathan reached for her hand and raised her fingers to his lips. "Ready for our next adventure?"

Her eyes lit with her smile. "Always, if you're in it."

H2H

"Ah, just in time!" Stan indicated to the chairs beneath the gazebo attached to the side of his lorry. "Billy just arrived and we're ready to eat, come and join us."

Jennifer pulled out a chair as Claire Williams descended the lorry steps with a huge bowl of chilli in her hands, wincing with discomfort as the heat of it penetrated her skin even through the heavy mitts she wore. Jennifer held the plastic table still as Claire placed the heavy pot in the centre of it. "Wow it smells wonderful, Claire, how did you manage to prepare it in there?"

The fair haired woman flashed a shy smile. "I cheated and did most of it at home before we set off, but the oven in there is pretty good. Modern horseboxes are kitted out with all the conveniences."

Stan held a plate aloft for Claire to serve. "So did you find your way round okay?"

"We did, it's quite impressive." Jonathan took a full plate from Claire and placed it on the table in front of him. "Thank you."

"Nowhere in Europe like it." Stan lifted a jug of tea coloured liquid, containing ice, fruit and vegetables that bounced against each other and splashed the liquid upward. "Pimms?"

Jennifer held up an empty glass. "Yes please, it looks wonderful."

Jonathan held a hand over his glass. "I'll stick to water, I have to drive us to the hotel later."

Stan filled Jennifer's glass then shook the jug. "Oh, come on, it's British tradition. And besides, there's plenty of room for you to sleep in the lorry if you have too many."

Jennifer sipped from her glass, fruit tapping against her lip. "Oh it's delicious darling, try it."

Jonathan conceded and removed his hand. "I can't turn down testing a British tradition." He took a sip and nodded approvingly before slouching back in his seat. "So what are the plans for Heartbreaker this week?"

"The main plan is to get her qualified for the 5 year old championship in the main ring on Friday. She's got two chances to qualify, tomorrow and Thursday. If she doesn't she'll jump the Novice Derby on Saturday. Either way great experience for her."

"And the others?"

"6 year old championship for Pandora, Grade B championship for Meg, Speed Derby for Granville and the Main Derby for Dan - that's if it all goes to plan and they all qualify." He shrugged. "It's the nature of the sport. But they're all on form and jumping well so we can hope for the best."

"Do you ever get tired of the physical grind of this constant pressured competitive life?"

He smiled demurely. "How can you get tired of your passion?" He raised his eyebrows. "Sure, it's easy to get sick of the daily ritual, but building your relationship with the horse, feeling it loving it's job and making such an effort for you, that feeling of high in the ring, winning - it never gets old."

The group devoured Claire's chilli and sipped Pimms, chatting and laughing as darkness descended, dragging the temperature down with it. The four commercial sized generators that served the lorries with hook up hummed as the chatter of the lorry park dwindled and the yellow glow of lights indicated people were beginning to retire to their bunks. Silence descended the lorry park on the eve of the first day of competition, broken only by the odd burst of laughter or a snort from the stable block.

Whilst Jennifer and Jonathan freshened up in the showers at the top of the lorry park, Claire dug out a spare duvet and made up the double bunk above the cab. By the time they returned, everyone had retreated to their bunks and the lorry was silent, a single reading lamp glowing to light their way. Jennifer tiptoed carefully up the ladder and under the covers at the far end of the bunk. Jonathan pulled the outside door closed and flicked the lamp off before following his wife, sliding beneath the duvet and snuggling up close to her, snaking his arm around her waist. He lowered his mouth to her ear. "Comfortable?"

"Mmm, very." She snuggled her back against his chest. "Deceptive how much space there is."

He gently kissed her cheek then lower to her jaw. He slid his hand across her stomach, over her hip and onto her thigh, unobtrusively finding her skin beneath the hem of her nightgown.

She stilled his hand and turned her head. "There are five other people in here."

He smiled, dropping his mouth to within breathing distance of hers. "They're asleep."

"Cool it, Romeo."

H2H

SUNDAY

Her eyes widened, straining to penetrate the inkiness that enveloped her. She drew her knees beneath her in a crouch, her mind keening as pain slammed into her with the power of a cannon. She paused, her head low, waiting as she trained her brain to accept it. Her pulse roared in her ears, her breathing a laboured rasp. She was hurt.

H2H

WEDNESDAY

Jennifer stretched and slumped backwards as her eyes eased open. Realising where she was, she pushed herself upright, wincing as her head rebounded off the roof of the cab.

Jonathan glanced up at her from the breakfast table and flicked the day's jumping schedule closed. "Morning, darling."

She rubbed the top of her head. "Where is everyone?"

"Feeding horses, mucking out."

She pressed the heel of her hand into her eye. "What time is it?"

"6.30"

She groaned. "No wonder I'm still sleepy." She crawled towards the ladder and backed down it, cursing as she hit her hip on the edge of the oven.

Jonathan smirked. "Maybe some coffee will wake you up."

She nodded and reached to pull open the door to the lorry's small bathroom area. "I'll just wash up."

Moments later, washed and dressed in jeans and a fitted white polo shirt, Jennifer emerged feeling somewhat more energised and surveyed the empty table where Jonathan sat. "What happened to the coffee?"

"We can get some on the showground, I thought you might like to watch some of the early action up there."

She nodded. "Good idea."

They walked hand in hand down the hill, stopping at the first catering van that had its shutters up. The large jovial man inside was scraping at a large grease stained grill. "Morning folks! It'll be a few minutes before I'm ready to get the bacon on."

Jennifer briefly screwed her eyes shut at the thought. "I'm not quite awake enough for that."

"Got any coffee?" Jonathan asked.

"Yes, sir." He heaped teaspoons of instant coffee into two polystyrene cups before adding hot water from a steaming burko boiler and nodding to the left of the van. "Milk, sugar, lids on the table there, help yourself."

"Thank you." Jonathan took the cups and handed one to Jennifer.

"This your first visit to Hickstead?"

"Yes it is."

"Thought I didn't recognise your faces."

Jennifer bent her head close to the rim of her cup then backed away before the liquid scalded her lip. "You couldn't possibly recognise everyone?"

"Not everyone, but most of the regular competitors I do. Where are you from?"

Jonathan added a dash of milk to his cup. "California."

The man whistled. "That's quite a journey for the Derby. It'll be worth it."

"Let's hope so." He dropped some coins into the vendor's outstretched hand.

"Have a good day, folks!"

"Thanks." Jonathan raised a hand as he led the way onto the horsewalk.

A tall slim man slumped up to the catering van behind them, wisps of his unkempt mouse brown hair creeping out from under the hat he wore and over the collar of his long black coat. "Good morning to you, sir, may I have a cup of tea?" His voice was gravelly with the unmistakeable lilt of an Irish accent. He turned and watched the couple head across the horsewalk.

The vendor placed a polystyrene cup onto the counter. "Here you are. Milk and sugar's beside you."

He added milk and removed the teabag unhurriedly. "Have you an idea who that couple is?"

The vendor looked in the direction of the man's eyes. "None, just saw them for the first time."

"They came from Stan Williams' lorry. Could there be a chance they're his new owners?"

"I wouldn't know, sir. Can I get you anything else?"

"No, that'll be all."

"That's a pound."

He rifled in his pocket for a coin. "I'll bet they've an eye to buy that stallion of his."

The vendor remained silent and held out his palm.

H2H

The sun was still making its slow ascent above the showground, its warmth beginning to dry the damp grass creating a layer of mist that crept eerily across the empty rings. Jonathan and Jennifer sat at one of the picnic tables adjacent to the all-weather ring 4 and watched as the activity unravelled around them. Competitors ran through last minute course walks whilst course builders checked distances, placed start and finish markers and lined up the lasers that would sync with the timing equipment. Photographers placed themselves at strategic fences, judges made their way into their boxes, stewards positioned themselves at the collecting rings and runners seated themselves inside each arena ready to collect and replace poles as they fell. Competitors began to emerge and classes began. All too soon the showground was alive with activity, people, horses, dogs scattered everywhere, bells and buzzers sounding, judges' voices over loud-speakers competing with one another to be heard. Amid the backdrop of horse's hooves thundering around each ring, poles hitting the ground, was a cacophony of excited voices and the distinct smell of bacon, chips, hog roast, crepes and other tempting items wafting from the catering vans. The sun glinted off row upon row of windshields as the surrounding fields became full of the vehicles of the public spectators, anxious to shop in the trade stands and witness the excitement of this year's Derby week.

H2H

The Irish man strolled around the back of the grey horse, tilting his head as he scrutinised its quarters and limbs. "Well now that's a nice filly squire, how will that be bred?"

Stan turned his head as he tightened up the girth. "Ah - Michael O'Donnell – trying to shop out of your league again?"

"Don't be like that, sir, I'm willing to pay good cash for the worth of the hoss."

"But we'll never agree a compromise on the value." Stan yanked his stirrup irons down.

"What age is this?"

Stan hooked his right foot onto the low fence rail behind him and bounced onto the grey mare's back. "She's an 8 year old."

"And what classes is she in?"

"I'm not interested in selling her or any of my horses to you. That includes my stallion."

"Now why would a businessman like you be so foolish as to turn away good cash?"

"Because I know the life you would succumb them to."

"All jumping horses know is to jump, that's what they'd be doing."

"No." He began to ride away.

"I have £100,000 cash here for that stallion – British pounds – I'll give it to you today!" He raised his voice to be heard.

Stan twisted in the saddle without stopping. "He's worth five times that even if he doesn't win the Derby!"

"You'll be giving him away before too very long, mark my words!"

H2H

Jennifer turned her head and watched the grey horse approach. "Morning, Stan."

He saluted with two fingers against his hat. "I hope you've been watching that class carefully, how's it riding?"

"The planks are falling down a lot." Jonathan pointed across to the far end of the all-weather. "And there have been a few refusals at that white fence."

Stan nodded, his eyes on the horse that was in the ring. "Early morning sun on white poles, can be dazzling to the horse."

Jennifer rose to her feet and patted the grey mare's shoulder. "How does she feel?"

He looked down at her and winked. "Like she's about to show you why you need to buy her."

Jennifer glanced across at Jonathan and laughed. As Stan rode toward the collecting ring and awaited his turn, Jennifer sank onto her husband's lap and slid her arms around his neck. "Think we're making the right decision, darling?"

He stroked her back. "To see how happy this makes you? I know we are."

She smiled and rested her cheek on his shoulder, watching as Megganne put in a faultless performance under Stan's guidance over the huge 1.35m Grade B warm up class. As he rode out of the chute he grinned across at them. "Convinced?"

Jonathan nodded. "Convinced. Tell the owners we're ready to negotiate."

Stan jumped to the ground and raised his thumb. "I'll do that. Heartbreaker will be jumping in ring 2 in half an hour, see you over there."

Jennifer hugged her husband's neck with delight.

H2H

The Irish man narrowed his eyes and sucked on his cigarette, holding it between the tip of his forefinger and thumb as the black mare pulled off the 5 year old qualifier with ease. She was nice. Very nice. Fine conformation, attitude and breeding. Produced for the last 6 months by the best man in England, almost guaranteeing her future success. He turned his attention to the owners, delighting in the mare's performance and praising the rider ringside. He smelt the money on them, had asked around the showground; how effortless it would be for Hart Industries to not only become a leading owner for Stan but a sponsoring supporter of the sport. He killed the cigarette with a yellowing fingernail and flicked it to the ground in disgust. He had to move the stallion on whilst he still had the chance. He was not prepared to miss out on the biggest payday of his life.

H2H

SUNDAY

Time had passed. She had fallen. Slept. Her skin tingled, clammy and cold. She tilted her head, listening. There was a noise. Faint, rhythmical. Familiar. Perhaps it was a dream, an hallucination. No. A trickle of air filtered over her. Cool, damp. Salty. The sea?

H2H

THURSDAY

The Irish man ducked his head, hiding his eyes beneath the brim of his hat as he thrust the syringe into his pocket and furtively nipped around the corner of the stable block, inadvertently colliding with Lisa as she carried Granville's tack from the lorry.

"Watch where you're going, you Irish fool!" She cursed loudly, stumbling forward to retrieve the saddle from the ground. "That's a 3 grand saddle you idiot!" She brushed at the dirt with her fingertips and tossed the bridle higher up her arm as she straightened. "What are you doing here anyway? You've no horses here, you've no right to be in the stable area."

He tipped his hat. "Must've took a wrong turn, sorry lass." He began to walk away.

"Pull the other one you wily Irish man!"

He turned briefly. "My, but the pressure of grooming for a big name at a big show gets to you. Perhaps Stan should leave you at home next time."

"Bugger off."

H2H

The Irish man pushed off the fence rail to watch the bright chestnut horse jog up the chute from the warm up arena towards ring 5, his rider calmly surveying the course built on the undulating ground, last minute calculations tumbling through his mind.

"Billy, would that be Stan's speed horse?"

The rider glanced down at the familiar man. "Aye."

"It's favourite to win the Speed Derby. I've put a coupla bob on it, don't let me down."

"If the fences stay up he'll win it for all of us."

"Y'know, you're a fine rider, son, wouldn't do you no harm to come work for me."

"I've told you before I don't work for crooks."

"Don't be so hasty, you'll be glad of my offer when you're outta work."

The steward called his number and he scowled as he kicked on into the chute.

H2H

"Ah Stan there you are, what's going on with those horses of mine?" Pale blue eyes squinted and peered at Stan through lashes heavily burdened with mascara.

"Lady Bretmeyer, good to see you." Stan took a step back to miss the silk scarf she whipped around her throat, sharing a whiff of her heavy cloying perfume. "I was hoping you'd make it down here."

Contemptuous eyes looked Jennifer up and down, unable to conceal the envy for the natural slender beauty she did not possess. She flicked an expensively bejewelled hand dismissively. "Go on, go on, we'll send for you if we need anything."

Jennifer raised a surprised eye to her husband whilst Stan fidgeted uneasily. "Lady Bretmeyer, this is Jonathan Hart and his wife Jennifer. They own the black 5 year old you were admiring last weekend." He paused, waiting for her reaction. "They'd like to talk to you about buying Dandini and the mare."

Her expression transformed and she flashed a delighted smile, offering Jonathan her fingers. "Oh thrilled to meet you. One must be so careful at these places with who one comes in contact with, you understand. Shall we go to the Owners tent for champagne?"

Jennifer twisted her jaw awkwardly. "We were just on our way to ring 5 to watch Granville jump."

"Oh." She wrinkled her nose with distaste. "I can't abide venturing over there, far too much muck and commoners. Stan, can you organise payment, you know the price - and when you come across my husband can you send him over to the Members? I don't wish to stay long. Frankly, I'll be relieved when this divorce fiasco is over, my dogs are more obedient." She flicked her fingers and flounced toward the Pimms bar.

Stan shook his head with a sigh. "I can't say I'll miss riding for her."

Jonathan gave a low whistle. "Is her husband easier to deal with?"

"The Lord is the nicest man you'll ever meet. He'd give the horse to you for peanuts if he knew you'd look after it well, but she'd never let him."

Jennifer rolled a brow. "I can imagine."

"Lady Bretmeyer has a reputation and lifestyle to keep. Once the divorce is final and the horses sold she wants to make sure she's well taken care of."

"How about working for a living?"

"Heaven forbid."

H2H

Jonathan and Jennifer jogged through the trade stands, weaving through the throng of people as they hurried to ring 5. Seeing Granville's bright chestnut quarters disappear from the chute into the ring they darted over the small fence and into the viewing area, finding Lisa standing at the front, clutching a lead chain and her back pack of accessories. The bell rang and horse and rider were announced.

Jennifer stood beside her. "How did he warm up?"

Lisa shrugged indifferently. "This horse is always the same. Just gotta keep him level headed so he qualifies and doesn't blow his brain before the Speed Derby."

"Will Billy still be competitive?"

She nodded. "He wants to win every class but the Speed Derby is the bigger class to win and Stan will have a fit if he doesn't keep a lid on it."

She cast a suspicious eye to the black clad stranger loitering ringside and Jennifer followed her gaze. "Do you know him?"

"Everyone does. Michael O'Donnell."

"He's dressed rather strange for this heat."

"Everything about him is strange. It's never a good sign to see him hanging around." The horse landed from fence 1 and thundered past them, fighting Billy for every stride. She gripped the rail in front of her, knuckles white. "C'mon Billy."

Jennifer clutched Jonathan's sleeve and held her breath as they watched the horse jump round in silence; barely able to contain her excitement, she glanced at the ticking clock by the judge's box and raised onto her tiptoes as the horse kicked away from the last fence and shot through the finish line.

"That quick double clear leaves Granville in the lead," the judge announced through the loud speaker. "And with only one combination left to jump that guarantees the pair their place in Saturday's Speed Derby."

Jennifer cheered as Billy rode out of the ring giving a cursory pat to the blowing horse's hot neck. He jumped to the ground and handed the reins to Lisa. "Cool him off would you?"

She nodded, clipping on the lead chain and walking him on, praising him higher than his rider had.

Jonathan slapped Billy's shoulder. "Great job!"

Billy unbuttoned his jacket and slung it over his shoulder, nodding his thanks. "That horse makes it easy."

"Can we buy you a drink or have you another to ride?"

"That's my last for the day so I'd like that, thanks."

H2H

As the Irish man watched the trio walk away, he pushed back off the rail and headed for the officials' office.

H2H

Jonathan placed a pint of cider in front of Billy and handed a glass of Pimms to his wife. "They don't serve anything non-alcoholic in here."

She took it from him with a smile. "Too bad."

Jonathan lowered himself into the seat opposite her and clinked his glass with hers. "Here's to the rest of the week going to plan."

Billy glanced up at the sound of his name from across the bar and raised a hand to a fellow competitor. "Alright John."

The thick-set man didn't bother to leave his table. "You qualified Stan's horse for the Speed Derby?"

"Yep, just now."

"Class just closed, you won it jammy bastard - knocked me out!"

"Ahh tough luck pal, looks like you're just not good enough." Billy turned back to the table and necked a mouthful of cider. "Thanks Jonathan I needed this."

"Pleasure." Jonathan indicated to the other rider with a nod of his head. "Friend of yours?"

"Aye, that's John Renwick a mate of mine, we've all got a friendly rivalry."

Jennifer patted his forearm. "You won the class, well done!"

He nodded. "Cheers. He's a great horse, he deserved to win. Let's hope for the same on Saturday." He raised his glass to his lips. "I hear you're wanting to buy Dan and the grey mare?"

Jonathan raised a brow. "We've started negotiations."

"Lady B will make it painful but it'll be worth it, that stallion will be shortlisted for the Barcelona Olympics I guarantee it."

Jonathan smiled across at his wife. "Maybe we won't have to wait for Atlanta '96 to get to the Olympics after all."

Jennifer's eyes sparkled. "How fabulous."

Billy put his glass back on the table. "I don't like your chances if you move him away from Stan, though, he was tricky when he was younger, Stan's worked wonders with him. I'm betting he'll also be one of the most sought after showjumping sires before too long."

Jonathan nodded his agreement. "Stan mentioned he was worried about him getting into the wrong hands."

Billy waved a hand. "And they're all around us. Worst thing they end up in Qatar or some such place, they pay a load of money for them and give them an awful life, horrible end." He felt a buzz against his thigh and he glanced down, fishing his phone out of the pocket of his breeches. "Excuse me." He flipped it open and raised it to his ear. "Yes Lisa?" He listened a moment. "Don't worry, it'll just be a random check - what?!"

Jonathan and Jennifer exchanged a concerned glance as they could hear Lisa's panic stricken voice through the phone.

"Where's Stan? Get hold of him as soon as he's out of the ring. I'm on my way over." He snapped the phone closed.

Jennifer's expression was serious with concern. "What is it?"

"Stewards just tested Granville on a tip that he was on a banned substance." He jerked back his chair and stood. "He's tested positive."

Jonathan rose to his feet. "How is that possible?"

"Someone's knobbled him."

Jonathan and Jennifer followed him as he dashed out of the bar and ran across the showground toward the stables.

As she rounded the corner of their stable row in front of her husband, Jennifer saw Lisa crying as she closed Granville's stable door and immediately went to comfort her.

Billy clenched his jaw and approached the head steward. "Shane, what's going on?"

The tall suited man shook his blonde head gravely. "Sorry, Billy, I hate for this to be you. He's positive."

"For what?"

"Performance enhancing dope."

"That's impossible! Come on, man, you know this isn't us - Stan is so strict about this stuff!"

"It's the rider that has to bear the responsibility, you know that - it's a ban for you and the horse, Billy."

"I know nothing about this - the girls wouldn't do it, it's gotta be an outsider." He gestured wildly with his arm. "Someone who doesn't want the horse to win on Saturday - hell, it's probably that Irish crook!"

"I'm sorry, man."

Billy's cheeks blanched. "Stan will fire me over this, I can't ride for anyone if I'm banned."

Shane squeezed his shoulder with regret, tossed his clipboard into his briefcase and strode away, nodding for his two colleagues to follow.

H2H

SUNDAY

Her finger tips traced the walls. Up, down. Left, right. Above, below. Side to side. Cool steel, damp with condensation. Not a crack or a seam. But air had found her somehow. She collapsed to her knees. Dizzy, disoriented, but instinct, will, forced her on. Pools of water littered the floor and her parched mouth begged her for a taste. She cupped her hands and raised them to her face, a mere breath away from her lips before the smell hit her and she recoiled. She staggered back onto her heels, grimacing and wiping her hands against the material of her trousers in disgust.

H2H

FRIDAY

"This has big time screwed up my week." Stan kicked at the wooden slats at the base of the corner stable. "Granville won that class fair and square, he would've won the Speed Derby."

The bay mare jerked and Emily hissed underneath her, struggling to tighten the studs in her hind shoes. "Give up, Pandora."

Jonathan protectively slid an arm around his wife's waist and drew her out of the danger area. "Any idea who could've done this?"

Stan nodded. "I've got a good one but no way I can prove it."

"What will happen to the horses he was going to jump?"

"Granville's disqualified until his blood tests are clear. The only one left without a rider is Calypso." He looked pointedly at Jennifer.

She laughed self consciously. "What?"

"Ever ridden a showjumper, Mrs Hart?"

Her eyes flashed briefly across to Jonathan. "You're not serious."

He shrugged. "You're an experienced rider, the horse is uncomplicated to a fence – would save us bringing him here for nothing, much less writing off the entry and stabling money."

"I may have years of riding behind me, but I'm not a skilled showjumping competitor – and look where we are!" She gestured around the prestigious showground. "I'll embarrass myself. And besides, I'm not sure how I feel about facing fences that size."

"Take him in the Novice Derby tomorrow, the fences are only 1.15m He'll look after you."

Her expression was doubtful as she sought Jonathan's support. "Darling?"

He squeezed her forearm with a smile. "I think it'd be great."

"Sure, you wouldn't be the one falling off in front of thousands of people."

"No, because I know you're capable of it and although your face is terrified there's a glimmer of excitement in your eyes. I know you. You'll be disappointed if you don't try it."

She inclined her head toward Stan. "It can't be as simple as getting on and riding – what about registration fees?"

He nodded. "We'll need to rush through a membership for you and make some rider changes with the show secretary, but it's no big deal." He swiped his mobile from his pocket, punched a number and put it to his ear. "Bex darling it's Stan…Now why would you think I need a favour just cos I called you darling?" He listened to her response and laughed throatily. "I need you to rush a membership through for me for someone so she can jump tomorrow." He waited. "Yep, Jennifer Hart – she's already an Owner Member, you just need to upgrade her to Full Jumping." He waggled his fingers at Jonathan, indicating for his credit card. "3100 Willow Pond Road – that your address?"

Jonathan nodded, handing across his Visa.

"Yep that's the one. Sure, I'll wait." He turned the card over in his fingers, impatiently bending the plastic. "Thanks. And that's effective now? You know what a humourless dragon the Show Secretary is." He laughed. "Thanks Bex you're a jewel. I've got the payment details here." He recited the numbers on Jonathan's card then handed it back to him, slipping his phone into his pants pocket. "Done. I'll get one of the girls to run over to the secretary to sort the admin on the entries." He looked across as Emily untied Pandora. "I've gotta get on this horse now, but I'll meet you later to help you practice. Meantime, Jonathan, why don't you take Jennifer to the trade stands and get her kitted out for the ring?" He grabbed the horse's reins and bent his knee, bouncing off Emily's hand as she legged him into the saddle. Giving a quick salute, he trotted toward the warm up arena.

Jennifer turned a wide eyed stare to her husband. "Did that just happen?"

"Come on Red, no time to waste, let's get down to the trade stands, get you kitted out."

She stumbled along behind him, her arm outstretched with her hand in his. "Red?"

With a list of essential requirements from Emily to ensure adherence to strict British Showjumping rules of attire, they trudged around the trade stands collecting everything she needed. Arming her with several items, Jonathan waited whilst she ducked into the make-shift dressing area in the Equi-Theme store to try on jodhpurs, stock shirt and jacket.

"Well?"

He looked up at the sound of her voice as she pulled back the curtain and emerged.

"What do you think?"

He raised his eyes with an approving smile as she turned in front of him, the tight white jodphurs hugging her every curve, the subtle diamante bling across the waist and down her thigh accenting her enviable figure. The collar of the stock shirt pronounced the elegance of her neck, and the soft shell navy jacket complimented her auburn hair and clung to her tight abdomen. "I think the way you look in that outfit everything else might have to wait."

She laughed. "I haven't got the boots yet to finish it off."

"I can't stand anymore excitement."

She tapped his nose with the pad of her forefinger. "Can I take it that you approve?"

He tipped his head forward out of earshot of the salesman. "Can I be the first to take it off you?"

H2H

"You've got a good position in the canter but keep the rein contact firm and don't allow the rhythm to change." Stan indicated for Emily to raise the practice fence two holes. "Come to the fence again, Jennifer."

Jennifer turned to look at the height of the fence. "Stop putting it up, can't I get it right first when it's lower?"

"Just focus. If your presentation is accurate, the height is irrelevant." He watched her turn the horse toward the fence. "Good, keep your eyes up." The horse sailed over the fence and he applauded her effort to flatten her body midair and regain her position on landing.

"Was that better?"

"Much." Stan pointed to the adjacent fence. "Jump that oxer then change the rein for the upright going in the other direction."

Without argument, she presented Calypso to the fence, lifted her body as the horse began to land and pressed her inside leg onto his side to encourage a flying change. Her hips absorbed the kick of the change and she focussed on keeping the rhythm as she approached the upright. As she cantered away, she turned her head at the sound of Stan's cheer.

"You're ready!"

"I am?"

"Come on." He gestured to her with his arm. "Get off and give the horse to Emily, we've gotta walk the course."

She jumped down and allowed Emily to take the reins before stumbling forward to slide her arm around Jonathan's waist. "I'm exhausted."

He squeezed her in a one-armed hug as he walked her forward to where Stan led the way to ring 2. "You're doing great."

"If I die tomorrow, remember you encouraged me to do this."

He laughed. "And if you don't die tomorrow, I'll be expecting some thanks."

She lowered her hand and patted his backside. "I think I can arrange that."

H2H

SUNDAY

Jonathan ran, his chest heaving, his thighs burning. Every fibre of his body implored him to stop but panic drove him on. The showground seemed relentless, twice the size he remembered, the ground undulating and unforgiving. Eventually crossing the horsewalk and into the lorry park, the hill yawned upwards before him, teasing him, ever increasing the distance to his car.

H2H

SATURDAY

Jennifer didn't hear Jonathan's call of good luck as she trotted into the ring, her heart pattering against her ribcage, her breathing echoing between her ears. Her arms and legs trembled, weak and disobedient, and she wondered if there were easier ways to die. The fences looked enormous and imposing. She'd never done anything remotely similar to this before, not on this scale, and she questioned her sanity. Her panicked mind became blank and she suddenly couldn't remember where the first fence was, or even if she was capable of riding to it.

Her body jerked as the bell rang and the judge's voice boomed over the speakers. "Next in the ring we have Calypso's Folly, owned by Stan Williams, ridden by Jennifer Hart."

The experienced horse knew his job so well that he popped into canter without being asked. She held the reins quietly on a consistent contact, trying to focus on maintaining a rhythmical canter as she travelled across the ring, her eyes desperately searching the fences for a number 1. She spotted Jonathan and her heart clenched as he raised his thumbs with a grin of support. He believed in her. The course walk returned to her mind in a flood and her focus became clear. She stared at the first fence, a simple rustic upright. She turned her head in the air and kept her eyes on fence two, a hedge topped by white rails, followed by a 5 stride related distance to a double of uprights. Over and clear. Across the arena and to the bank. She was up it in a flash and paused briefly on the top, leaning slightly back as they slid down the other side and she left Calypso alone to navigate the rails at the bottom. Done. A deep right turn took her over another upright then the Cornish wall followed by another related distance to a skinny with light poles. Easily over and she didn't hear any fall. She sat tall to help Calypso balance on a sharp right to the tall gate, waiting patiently and not rushing to allow him to kick his back feet away from touching it. The hedge breather fence was simple but the open water that followed was not. She pressed on and opened Calypso up to enable him to make the width, sitting up on landing for the turn to another hedge. Quick skip around the bank for an oxer over a ditch on an awkward line, but it did not phase the experienced horse, who obediently came straight back to a slower canter to negotiate the planks on the Derby rails. Still clear and just the traditional white oxer to go; she pressed her leg on the now tired horse who made an extra effort for her in the air and they flew through the finish. It was over. Not only had they lived and jumped clear, she was hit by the most sensational high she had ever experienced. Simultaneously, she was glad it was over and yet wanted to repeat the entire thing. As the horse cantered on she leant forward, patting and praising him as if he were the first horse ever to jump the Derby.

She trotted out of the ring, her cheeks pink, her smile wide, her eyes sparkling with exhilaration. Slowing to a walk, she slumped forward and threw her arm around the horse's chestnut neck, patting him with affection and exuberance.

Emily jogged to her side, clutching his left rein and drawing him to a halt. "Jump on off, Mrs Hart, I'll walk him off for you."

Jennifer nodded, swinging her leg behind her and sliding to the ground, patting her hand onto his loins. "What a good horse."

Emily dug into a front pocket of her backpack and held her hand out to Jennifer. "Wanna give him some of these?"

Jennifer glanced down and smiled. "Oh, yes please." She took the packet of Polos and ripped them open. Picking out 4 she held her palm out beneath the horse's muzzle, smiling as he gently scooped them and crunched with pleasure.

Jonathan ducked under the rope alongside the viewing stands and jogged over to his wife. "Darling, you were sensational!"

She threw her arms around his neck and squealed with pleasure as he grabbed her into a hug, lifting her feet off the ground. "That was the biggest thrill of my life!"

Lowering her to the ground, he cocked a sarcastic brow. "The biggest?"

She laughed and tapped his shoulder. "You know what I mean. I want to do it again!"

Stan chuckled quietly. "That can be arranged. Gets in the blood doesn't it."

She nodded, clicking open the snap on her hat. "It sure does."

"There aren't many clears in the Derby, there's a good chance you're in the money too."

Jonathan squeezed her waist. "That was a quick return on investment."

Stan tapped his forehead in a quick salute. "I've gotta run over to ring 4 - very good job!"

Jennifer smiled. "Thank you." As he jogged away, she turned to her husband, her arm over his shoulder. "Darling, would you do me a favour?"

"Anything."

"Would you help me out of these boots, I can't feel my feet."

He laughed and walked her over to lean on the fence. Unsnapping and unzipping the boots, he tugged them off and rubbed the life back into her toes.

She balanced herself half on the fence and half on her husband's shoulder. "Ooh that feels great." Lifting her head she glanced across the showground. "That's a hell of a walk back to the lorry park in bare feet."

He straightened and gave her a quizzical glance. "There are easier ways to ask me for a ride."

She laughed and licked her lips. "I'll make it worth your while."

He turned his back to her and cupped his hand to catch her leg as she slid her weight onto his back. "I don't doubt that for a second."

She slid her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist as he carried her across the showground and back to the lorry park. She leant forward and kissed his cheek. "I love you."

H2H

"Ooh, champagne." Jennifer accepted the flute Jonathan offered her. "What are we celebrating?"

"Your success in the ring today. £100 for 3rd place in your first Derby." Jonathan sat in the seat opposite her. "Heartbreaker 2nd in the 5 year old final yesterday. Meg won the Grade B final. Money transferred today for Dan and Meg, we are now their official owners. Is there more need for celebrating?"

She clinked her glass with his. "I'll drink to that. What a fantastic week." She sipped slowly from her glass, barely wetting her lips. "All we need now is for Dan to win the Derby tomorrow to add the icing on the cake."

"Have I told you how proud I am of you?"

She reached out and toyed with his fingers with a shy smile. "You are?"

"That was quite a challenge you faced today and not only did you face it, you smashed it. You're constantly finding new ways to amaze me. I love you."

She lifted his fingers and raised them to her cheek. "Darling, would you mind if we don't eat dinner with everyone tonight? Could we go back to the hotel and be alone?"

He lifted his bottom lip. "Will you put the jodhpurs back on?"

She raised the corner of her lip into a smile. "Promise."

He stood and held out his hand. "Let's go."

H2H

Jennifer awoke to the sound of the rain pounding against the window and she craned her head to check the time. Lightning lit the room momentarily. 3.45. She lowered her head to her pillow, reaching down to trace her fingers lightly across Jonathan's forearm that rested over her waist, remembering their moments of passion with a smile.

"Did the thunder wake you?"

The sound of his voice surprised her. "I thought you were sleeping."

He tightened his hold on her, drawing her closer. "I've been listening to the rain for hours."

She smiled, rubbing her hand up his arm. "Listening to the rain, huh?"

He palmed her ribcage and slid his hand onto her back. "And thinking of the beautiful woman lying beside me that I'm lucky to call my wife."

"Oh." She bent her knee and traced the toes of her left foot up his calf. "While I was asleep dreaming of this handsome fella." She scraped her bottom lip with a tooth. "Then I woke up and there you were."

He kissed her then, slowly, his hand exploring her back as he felt the flame within him reignite. He cupped her hip and drew her onto him. Close. Closer.

She touched his chest, her fingers light as they descended his body. Teasing.

He raised her hips and their bodies found each other, joining as if they were tailor made. The rain intensified, creating a symphony with a crescendo that their bodies danced to.

As the light of dawn began to flicker through the curtains, they slept, holding each other as if afraid to let go.

H2H

SUNDAY

"What about the woman?"

"Collateral damage. Stick her in a crate. If the injury don't kill her, she'll suffocate before the crossing's over."

"Why all this agro? It's quicker by air."

"Because that's what they'll expect us to do. While they're shutting down all the airlines we'll already be in Ireland with new identities, including the horse."

H2H

SUNDAY

Derby day dawned dry but cloudy with the promise of unsettled weather and the heavy overnight rain had wreaked havoc on the showground. By the time that Jonathan and Jennifer arrived mid morning, horses, people and other traffic had turned the rain sodden ground into churned up mud. Although they had made plans to join Stan at 10 for the Derby course walk, they elected to keep their inappropriate footwear out of the mud and headed over to the owners building to watch from a mud-free distance.

The television cameras added to the excitement of the Derby that even the weather couldn't spoil. The rain started again just in time for the first competitor to canter into the ring at 2.30pm, but even the spectators who were seated in the uncovered public viewing area could not be moved. Mud made the conditions heavy and visibility poor; the horses struggled to leave the fences up and by the time there were five horses left to jump there was yet to be a clear round.

Jennifer peered with concern at the deteriorating conditions. "Do you think we should tell Stan to withdraw?"

Jonathan shook his head. "If he thought that was best he would've already done it."

She chewed a nail. "I don't want them to be hurt."

He squeezed her hand. "Here he is."

Although soaked through, the mahogany bay stallion still cut an impressive picture as he cantered into the ring, bouncing through the heavy ground as if it didn't exist. Stan saluted to the judges as the bell rang and he barrelled toward the traditional first fence, the Cornish wall. Jennifer covered her eyes and clutched Jonathan's fingers as the stallion exploded over each fence, making little of the huge questions despite the ground adding an extra foot to the height of each obstacle.

"I can't watch him go down that bank." Jennifer buried her face in Jonathan's shoulder. "Tell me what's happening."

He cupped her face gently. "He's up on the bank."

She pushed her face deeper into his jacket. "Don't tell me - okay, okay, tell me."

"He's coming down, he's over the rails."

"Is he okay?"

"Clear, and clear through the Devil's Dyke."

She glanced up briefly as he galloped over the huge open water then dropped her face down again. "If he lives I'll want to watch the re-run."

"He's over the Derby rails."

"Double of gates?"

"Done, just the last oxer to go."

She lifted her head and raised her knuckle to her mouth, scraping her teeth against it. She saw the exhaustion in both horse and rider as they bounded down to the last fence, the rain sheeting down at them diagonally, the surrounding trees bowing under the weather's pressure. The horse took off, kicking his back legs backward to clear the final fence with inches to spare. She eyed the clock counting down and realised they were well within the allotted time. "Oh my God he's done it."

Jonathan pulled her into his arms and hugged her tight. "He's won the Derby with the only clear round."

Jennifer held tight onto her husband's arms, her eyes blank with an astonished stare. "I can't believe it."

He tugged her to her feet and pulled her forward whilst the delighted crowd was on its feet with elation. "Come on, let's get down there."

H2H

Jonathan shook Stan's hand. "Safe journey back. We'll be in touch."

"You too, Jonathan - go on, now, don't miss that plane!"

Jennifer clutched Jonathan's sleeve. "Oh darling, can I just have a minute to say goodbye to the horses?"

He smiled and nodded. "Sure, I'll go pick up the prints we ordered and meet you back at the car."

She reached up and kissed his cheek. "See you in a minute."

He watched her pick her way through the mud toward the stables then strolled down the hill toward the Spidge Photography van.

Rounding the corner to Heartbreaker's stable, Jennifer reached out to stroke her gentle black head with a smile. "You are such a clever girl." She kissed her muzzle then thumbed lipstick off the dark velvet skin. She heard the roar of an engine and looked up in surprise as a bottle green lorry backed down the narrow alleyway alongside Dandini's stable. Walking forward, she frowned with confusion at the red haired youth who jumped out of the cab.

"These horses are being loaded in a minute, you're blocking their way."

He turned his head to avoid her seeing his face and muttered. "Don't worry about it."

Suspicion at his furtiveness made her heart thump. "What's going on?"

The rusty springs on the old lorry squealed their protest as the youth coaxed the ramp to descend, then flicked open Dandini's door and tossed a used nylon headcollar onto his head.

"Hey!" Jennifer rushed forward, pushing at the door to prevent him leading the horse out.

"Now, now, Mrs Hart." A familiar Irish voice singsonged behind her. "Let's not make a fuss."

Light flashed in the back of her eyes as a pain hit her head hard enough for her to lose all sense of balance and consciousness. She crumpled to the floor without protest.

Jonathan handed his Visa across to the sales girl in the Spidge van and tucked the prints under his arm. He heard the familiar chime of a phone and glanced around, taking a moment to realise it was his.

The sales girl handed him the Visa receipt to sign.

He pulled the phone from his inside jacket pocket and flipped it to his ear whilst he scribbled his name on the small paper. "Yes?"

"Jonathan it's Stan. Where are you?"

"I'm at Spidge." He took his Visa back and dropped it into his pocket with a smile of thanks.

"Is Jennifer with you?"

He stepped out of the van and began to stroll across the showground. "No, she was saying a last goodbye to the horses."

"Someone's taken Dandini, I think they've taken Jennifer too."

Jonathan started running.

H2H

"Where are the police?" Jonathan threw his car door open. "What's taking so long?"

The tall head of security raised a calming hand. "They've been called, they're on their way."

"Have they set up a roadblock?"

"There are far too many routes to the coast from here to -"

"Have they at least stopped anything leaving the ports?"

"Sir, be reasonable. I understand the horse is valuable and you've got a substantial investment in it, but it's unlikely they'll try to move him by sea."

"Be reasonable? You think I care about the money? Those lunatics have got my wife!"

Stan reached through the window and grabbed Jonathan's jacket sleeve. "Get in and drive."

Jonathan didn't hesitate. Roaring past the barrier, he snaked around the narrow exit and shot the car out onto the A23. "Tell me where to go."

"Keep going South towards Brighton. It would be quicker by air but if Michael O'Donnell is behind this he's got strong networks in Ireland to move the horse on. He won't waste time, Jonathan, step on it."

Jonathan didn't argue.

H2H

Jennifer felt the walls move and shot her hands out to balance herself; with nothing to grip on to she tumbled forward, hitting the metal floor painfully with her knees. The crate swung in the jaws of the JCB that lifted it on a chain and she fell sideways, crushing her shoulder beneath her and tossing her backward. She clawed uselessly on the slippery wall before falling diagonally across the length of the crate, hitting her elbow, her jaw, her hip, then her head. Once, twice. She blinked, feeling darkness pinch the edges of her vision. She gasped at her breath, the pain causing her right eye to flicker then close. The crate jerked left then right before crashing down to its resting place, bouncing her head against the wall. She felt the warmth of a slow moving liquid trickle across her cheek, her lip, but couldn't cling long enough to consciousness to analyse its meaning.

H2H

Stan pointed at the brown sign off the dual carriageway. "Turn here."

Jonathan screeched the car down the side road, barely touching the brakes. "What is this place?"

"The ferry port."

He slammed the brakes on at a metal barrier and wound his window down to face a plexiglass screen with half a dozen holes to allow sound to pass through.

The bored security guard flicked the intercom. "Yes?" His voice sounded metallic and distorted.

"We need to check the inventory on some of your cargo."

The guard's expression reflected his scepticism. "Which cargo?"

"I don't know."

"There's a lot of ferries pass in and out."

"Look -"

"You got a pass, a document number?"

"No."

He lifted a shoulder. "Can't help ya."

Panic and anger caused Jonathan's breath to become shallow, his voice to lower. "You must've seen a horsebox pass through here, recently - less than half an hour ago."

"Lotta horseboxes come through, lotta horses come in and out of Ireland."

"When's the next ferry due out of here to Ireland?"

He consulted a screen, clicked a button. "5.05, 5.25."

"We need to stop those ferries, it's an emergency."

"You got a warrant?"

"No, but there's every chance my wife is on one of those -"

"Bring back the police, bring a warrant. Otherwise." He shrugged. "Can't help ya."

Jonathan squinted through the windshield. "Hold on."

Stan reached forward to brace himself against the dashboard.

The engine roared its protest as Jonathan rammed it forward, ignoring the scream and sparks of metal upon metal, until the barrier finally relented and flipped upward, buckled. The car plunged forward and sped across the tarmac, Jonathan guiding it to where he saw a group of rusty yellow JCBs working to stack crates onto the back of a ferry, its back ramp yawning wide open to receive its cargo.

Leaving the car running, Jonathan dived out and sprinted toward the first JCB he saw. He climbed up over the wheel arch and tugged open the door. He addressed the startled driver in a shout, pointing across to the ferry. "Is that going to Ireland?"

He bent his head to consult a document and nodded.

"Where does the live cargo go?"

He pointed forward. "At the front, first on, first off."

"Thanks." Jonathan backed out and jumped down, running toward the ramp.

"Hey mister you can't go in there on foot!"

His shout fell on deaf ears.

Stan caught Jonathan up and followed him into the dark dank recess of the belly of the ferry.

Jonathan ran forward, his eyes snatching back and forth. "Help me out, Stan, what am I looking for?"

"An old Leyland lorry, green, more rust than green." Stan split from Jonathan to scour the opposite end. "I'll look right, you look left."

Jonathan ran up and down the rows of vehicles, bypassing the food and grain transporters. "I don't see any horseboxes."

"Here, here!"

He turned, following the direction of Stan's voice and saw the cab of a lorry light up as the passenger door inched open. Darting forward, he saw the dark figure of the stranger he'd seen ringside on Thursday climb down and creep forward. Instinct shot him faster and he dove onto the back of the man, flooring him in an instant.

The man's arms shot forward as he hit the ground and uttered a grunt of surprise, his hat tumbling to the ground in front of him.

Jonathan grabbed a fistful of greasy dishwater coloured hair and tugged his head back. "Where's my wife?"

The man splayed his hands. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Without hesitation, Jonathan knocked his head forward onto the metal floor then dragged it back up. "My wife?"

The man groaned slowly. "Take the hoss, it's in the wagon."

This time, he knocked his head twice, successively. "I won't ask again."

"The crate, the crate." He drew his hand gingerly up toward his forehead. "Please, not again."

Jonathan tightened his grip in his hair. "Which one?"

"4271."

"You'd better not be lying."

The man squealed at the thought of additional pain. "Jesus, I'm not!"

"Stan, 4271!"

Stan ran out onto the ramp to direct the JCB driver which crate to pull down. He lifted his hands with an indifferent shrug. "On whose authority?"

Stan sighed with relief at the sound of a siren gaining volume and pointed across the tarmac. "Theirs."

H2H

"Easy, easy." Jonathan hovered at the seam of the crate as the metal arms twisted it open. The metal groaned a protest as the opening increased inch by inch, the smell of pungent water assaulting them as air seeped outward. At first, he saw nothing but water and darkness, then his eyes found the back corner and his heart stopped. She was on her side, her arms out in front of her, her legs folded beneath her, her neck at an awkward angle, her head against the corner.

The paramedics surged forward. "Mr Hart wait -"

"Oh God oh God." Jonathan pushed in and dropped to his knees in the stinking water. His fingers shook as he reached out to touch her shoulder, her waist. "Darling, I'm here. Jennifer, can you hear me?"

Stan gently grabbed Jonathan's arm and lifted him to his feet to allow the paramedics space. "Let them help her."

Jonathan's hand shot to his throat as a cry of pain and fear bubbled upward. "Is she okay? Is she?"

Stan tugged him backward, patting his back soothingly as Jonathan hid his eyes behind his fingers, tears tracking down his face.

H2H

Jonathan watched in a daze as paramedics worked on his wife, slopping carelessly through the water, rust and rubbish to secure her head, neck and spine, cautiously removing her on a stretcher out of the crate and into the fading daylight, preparing her as best as possible for the journey ahead. A bright yellow helicopter descended to the tarmac and she was loaded carefully into it, spirited away from him into the sky.

His face was pale, shell shocked as he turned to one of the paramedics. "Where?"

He straightened, his green uniform spattered with rust colours that were indistinguishable between dirty water and blood. "Royal London. It's the closest specialist Neurological Unit."

"What ... ?" He couldn't complete a sentence.

"Her head injuries are significant, but we've stabilised her for now. The specialists will take over as soon as she gets there. She's in the best possible hands."

Jonathan watched without comment as Emily led Dandini down the ferry's ramp and into Stan's waiting horsebox whilst a blue uniformed officer stood talking to a handcuffed Michael O'Donnell. None of it mattered.

Stan squeezed his shoulder. "Get in the car, I'll drive you there."

H2H

"Mr Hart?"

Despite 36 hours without sleep, shower or a change of clothes, Jonathan shot to his feet, a trembling hand snaking through his tousled hair. "Yes?"

The consultant's face was kind but grave. "The surgery was a success. We lifted the skull depression and relieved the pressure. There's still a lot of swelling but no bleeding. She's got a long journey ahead of her but her vital signs are strong and she's responding. I am optimistic that her recovery will be full."

"Can I -" He cleared his throat. "Can I see her?"

"Of course. Don't expect too much too soon. Her obs will be checked hourly throughout the night and I'll be back to check on her progress in the morning. I'll discuss her condition with you in detail when you're in a better frame of mind."

He nodded. "Thank you."

Jonathan paused in the open doorway of the private suite, the sight of his wife expelling the breath out of him like a blow to the throat. She was pale, fragile, tiny amongst the machinery that monitored her, delivered antibiotics, pain relief. But she was here and the rhythmic beating reassured him of the life and vitality that still fired within her. There was little to show for the major surgery she had endured, other than a square dressing above her left ear. The skin of her face and arms was mottled blue, black and various shades in between, and he had little doubt that her body beneath the sheets was the same. Her glorious hair had been shaved around the site of her incision, but it didn't matter. It would return. As would she.

He slowly lowered himself into the chair beside her bed, careful not to disturb her. He reached for the fingers of her right hand, raising them only slightly, bending his head to brush his lips across the tips. Memories cascaded through his mind, tumbling over each other for priority. Watching with pride as she rode in the Novice Derby. Drinking champagne. Making love to the sound of the rain. Yesterday. Her excitement as Dandini won the Derby. Today - was that today? No, he'd been without sleep far too long, it couldn't have all happened so recently. He'd lost track of time. A tear drifted from his eye and dropped onto the back of her hand.

Her fingers jerked in reaction to the feeling and he realised she was trying to squeeze his hand. He watched with a staccato heart as her eyes took their time to open and focus on him.

He blinked away the tears that blurred his vision and shook his head. "Don't try to talk."

She stared at him as he plunged in and out of focus, her exhausted mending body desperate for sleep. A single tear welled in the corner of her eye and moistened a trail down her cheek before sleep consumed her once again.

He pressed his mouth to the wetness on her cheekbone. "I'll be right here waiting for you, darling."