Race Girl Read Online Free Page A

one from Avalon would ever make such a monumental mistake. Since that day, they’d kept the stalls padlocked at night and the gates of the turnout paddocks chained shut during the day.
    Mr. Weston, a large, fit man with cool blue eyes and the same sandy hair as his son, took a step forward. His towering shadow fell over her father, sending him even deeper into darkness. Mr. Weston shook his head, pushing his mitt-like hands into the pockets of his dark RM Williams jeans.
    â€˜Just go, Pearce,’ Gerald said. ‘Get out.’
    â€˜Well, you know where to find me.’ Mr. Weston chuckled sarcastically, his mocking tone chilling Tully to the core. ‘I’ll give you till New Year’s, Athens. Then I go to the bank.’
    Tully stepped to the side to let Mr. Weston past. He smiled smugly at her and tipped his cap as he strode out of their lounge room, the screen door banging shut behind him.
    Tully’s legs shook from the exhaustion of the day, the room suddenly spinning. She dropped her backpack on the floor and hurried to her father’s side, lowering to her knees and slipping his drink from his hands. She listened to the Range Rover reversing, its tyres crunching over the dirt and sparse gravel of their yard before revving up and rolling off down the driveway. She imagined the vehicle turning right at the main road, traveling up and over the rise, then taking the left into the paved driveway, through the grand gated entrance of Weston Park Stud.
    The TV was muted, but Tully’s heart beat loudly, filling her ears. ‘What was Mr. Weston doing here, Dad?’ she asked gently.
    â€˜He’s made an offer for Avalon.’
    â€˜ What? ’ Tully said, her eyes going wide. ‘No!’
    â€˜We probably won’t have any choice but to sell to him.’
    Tully crumpled to the floor, forgetting about her father’s drink in her hand. The crystal glass from her grandmother’s cherished set crashed to the floor, smashing on impact with the worn pine floorboards. The liquid ran cool and dark over her fingers and down her legs, the strong smell of alcohol instantly stinging at her eyes and burning her nostrils. Her stomach churned quickly, bile rising up into her mouth. ‘We can’t sell, Dad,’ she shook her head violently, trying to swallow the sick taste down, ‘We can’t just give up! What would Mum say? What would grandma and grandpa—’
    â€˜They’re all dead, Tulls!’ His hands flung into the air, then slammed down on the arms of his chair. ‘Get your head out of the clouds, girl! It’s on us now, and we’re done.’
    â€˜ No , we’re not!’ Tully said, pushing the glass off her lap and wiping it frantically off her hands – a shard slicing a quick cut in her palm, the blood welling up instantly. Disregarding the pain for a moment, she jumped to her feet, started pacing the room, jamming her hand into her stomach to try to stop the bleeding. Her other hand took up the fight, waving despairingly in the air as she pleaded, ‘we can’t let them get away with this, Dad! Don’t you even care anymore?’
    Gerald Athens sat motionless, his once sky-blue eyes locked dully on the TV screen.
    â€˜Dad,’ Tully said, bringing her face down to his. ‘Come on, Dad! Seriously? ’
    Her father didn’t even blink, and the anger that rose within Tully was strong enough to send a fist straight into a wall. He’s given up, she realised, her heart plummeting. He’s all I’ve got, and he doesn’t even care anymore . . . Deep, frantic sobs took over her body and she rushed from the room, stumbling under the ornate archway crafted by her grandfather’s hands, down the hallway to her bedroom. Bear was waiting for her, cowering on her bed, his black pointy ears laid back and his brown kelpie eyebrows raised in concern. ‘I’m sorry, mate,’ Tully sobbed, laying down