At Long Odds (A Racing Romance) Read Online Free

could say ‘Of course!’. But there was nothing. He was just an ordinary dark bay colt. With a defeated shrug of her shoulders she turned away and headed for the house, intent on quizzing her father whom she hadn’t seen since her discovery in the early hours of that morning.
    She found him with her mother in the lounge, sitting in his favourite worn and faded armchair, stuck into a John Francome thriller. He looked up as Ginny stepped into the room, and smiled at her above his specs. Ginny made for the equally-aged sofa where her mother was seated and sat down, tucking her legs beneath her.
    ‘Lovie,’ Beth said brightly and putting down her Sudoku puzzle. ‘How did it go today?’
    Ginny hesitated, uncertain whether she should tell her parents she had fallen off the first horse she’d ridden. Perhaps not.
    ‘Okay, thanks. Nothing too drastic. Everyone seems very nice, except…’ Suddenly, Caspian’s importance waned as she recalled her morning. ‘What do you know about Julien Larocque?’ she asked, turning to her father.
    ‘Ah, Julien,’ Jim smiled. ‘Been getting under your skin already, has he?’
    Ginny shifted uneasily.
    ‘You could say that. He barged in front of us on the Gallops. Pacifist nearly went into orbit.’
    Jim chuckled, making Ginny feel even more indignant.
    ‘He’s a good trainer. Like Vincent, except a little more glamorous.’
    ‘That doesn’t excuse reckless behaviour like that. Someone could’ve got hurt.’ Like me, she silently added, knowing it was her pride more than anything else.
    ‘The French can get away with anything,’ Beth said, getting up and pouring Ginny a cup of tea from a tray on a side table.
    ‘The inmates of Fleury-Mérogis Prison might argue that point, Mum. How is he glamorous?’
    ‘Wealthy owners send their horses to be trained by him because their bored wives fancy him,’ Jim explained. ‘You always see him with some pretty bird hanging onto his arm. He’s not afraid of opposition either. It’s not difficult to feel intimidated by big guns like Michael Ramsay and Andrew Pearson, especially when you’re on foreign soil. But hats off to the boy, he seems to take it in his stride. Cobalt Lodge had plenty of winners last year.’
    ‘Humph.’ Ginny frowned into her freshly-poured teacup and took a tentative sip. It seemed everyone loved Julien Larocque except her.
    ‘Do you see much of Charlie anymore?’
    Ginny looked at her mother in amazement. Beth’s trail of thought could be followed by a bloodhound with anosmia.
    ‘Our paths cross now and then,’ she mumbled into her cup. ‘Hard not to when you’re in the same business.’
    ‘He was also glamorous, wasn’t he, lovie?’
    Ginny had forgotten how tactless Beth could be sometimes, especially when she seemed intent on marrying Ginny off.
    ‘I guess so.’
    ‘It was so sad when you broke up.’
    Try heartbreaking, thought Ginny.
    ‘That’s how it goes, I suppose, mixing business with pleasure,’ she shrugged. ‘I watched Alex ride that two-year-old, Caspian,’ she said to Jim, blatantly changing the subject. ‘Nice-looking colt, that one.’
    ‘Alex or Caspian?’
    ‘Don’t you start. You bought him as a yearling at Deauville, didn’t you?’
    At her father’s nod of ascent, Ginny probed further. ‘What made you pick him?’
    ‘Stop it, Ginny. You know full well why I picked him. You would have seen his pedigree. Call me a sentimental old fool, but he had everything going for him at the Sales: great-looking, sound, bargain price. And of course, his granddam…’
    ‘…Is Just Kidding,’ she finished for him.
    ‘Yes,’ Jim said, sounding sheepish. ‘I only noticed Caspian’s breeding when I got there and I know it’s reckless of me, especially when we’re strapped for cash, but he’s not a bad investment, even allowing for my sentimental flaws.’ He sounded almost like he was looking for reassurance from her.
    ‘Well, he seems a nice enough colt,’ Ginny tried to be