Lynda La Plante: Royal Heist

“And Helen, what a wonderful creation,” de Jersey said, referring to her hat, a bright pink ensemble of huge roses that made her pinched, nervous face seem even paler.

“Thank you. David said it was awful.” Helen, who had spent weeks shopping for her outfit, had been upset by her husband’s criticism.

“It’s stunning.” Christina kissed her and passed Helen a glass of champagne.

“I’d say your husband has some nerve,” de Jersey said, laughing as he tapped David’s topper, which sank low on his red, sweaty face. “What happened, David? No suits in your size left at Moss Bros?”

David smiled self-consciously. Like his wife, he had never attended Royal Ascot. Normally he was fastidious in his dress, but unfortunately he had left it until the last moment to hire his suit.

“I think you look splendid,” Christina said. “Champagne? Now, if you need any help placing bets, Natasha will guide you through the procedure. Edward’s suggested a possible winner for the first race, but I never pay any attention to him. I bet on the horse whose name I like best.”

Quickly, David removed his hat and went to sit on the far side of the box, where he lit a cigar. De Jersey joined him. “Glad you could make it. It’s been months since I’ve seen you, and I have a lot to thank you for. You made me a wealthy man.”

“I’ve been caught up with work, but I have tried calling you.” David drained his glass, which de Jersey refilled. They had known each other for twenty-five years but rarely socialized. David’s latest business venture on de Jersey’s behalf, financing an Internet company, had proved a gold mine.

“What do you say is going to be a surefire bet? Come on now, you’ve got to have insider information, Edward.”

“There never is one.” De Jersey hesitated. David’s words were an eerie reminder of his father, who always used to say the same thing. He suddenly felt like talking about his father but resisted. David would have heart failure if he knew some of the things de Jersey had done. He was straight and honest, the very reason de Jersey placed so much trust in him.

“David, I am really pleased you and Helen could join us today.”

David smiled. He had whiter than white teeth and always appeared suntanned. His balding head and big ears were often a source of amusement, but he was, in actual fact, a very confident man. Now that he was flushed with champagne, David’s discomfort at wearing an oversize morning suit was beginning to lessen.

“Edward, lemme tell you. What with Helen’s ruddy flower garden hat and me in this suit, I was of two minds about whether to come today. I said to this bloke at Moss Bros, can’t you take the trousers up? No, he said, then puts the jacket on me and the sleeves covered my hand. I said, I can’t go to Royal Ascot looking like a chump. Can’t you recommend someone that’s got one more my size? And you know what he said? No one will notice! I said, They will when I do a pratfall in front of the Queen.

“And then I get the manager, and he starts kneeling down with these pins in his mouth. He says to me, Can you stand on the stool? And I says, That’s not gonna help. I can’t carry that around the racetrack!” David chortled with laughter and showed the wide hem on his trousers as Helen blushed with embarrassment.

By the time Christina suggested they sit down for lunch, everyone appeared to be enjoying themselves. The vicar had accompanied David to the Tote and appeared to have backed every horse in the first race. It was one thirty. More champagne was offered, then chilled white Chablis as the oysters were served. They were to be followed by wild salmon in aspic with new potatoes and salad. There would be a break between courses to watch the races from the balcony.

Just as they finished the oysters, the crowds below cheered wildly and everyone left the table to watch the Royal procession pass beneath the balcony. Moments later the first runners were under starter’s orders, and they were off. Their guests, led by David, cheered on the winner-Charcoal at twelve to one-then David and the vicar rushed out to collect their winnings.

De Jersey felt the knot in his stomach tighten. Two more races, then he would go down to the stables.

David was making his way to the Tote on the floor directly below. Natasha had already placed her bet, but when she saw him join the line she waited, and they returned together. David hurried to the balcony, but Natasha joined her father.

“Daddy, David put on an enormous amount of money!”

“Shush,” Christina admonished.

“He can afford it, sweetheart,” de Jersey said, grinning. “What’s he backed?”

“Classy Lady.” Natasha giggled. “Maybe because of his wife’s awful rose-garden hat.”

Christina said sternly, “That will do, Natty. Edward, don’t encourage her. They’re your guests.”

De Jersey pulled a po-face. “Me?”

Natasha stood on tiptoe to kiss him. “I’m on Blue Babushka, the outsider, a fiver on the nose.”

“Then join the others or you’ll miss the race.” Christina glanced at the table, now freshly laid for the next course. Natasha left, and de Jersey watched the television screen as the horses cantered past, heading for the starting gate. “Royal Flush will go in last,” he said. “He gets so frisky. I might go and have another look at him.”

“Not before we finish lunch. You’ve got almost two hours yet… Darling?”

He was staring into space. “Next year, the Derby. That’s my dream, to have a Derby winner.” He lapsed into silence again. Sometimes he wanted to tell her about his childhood, but so much of the past was buried beneath the person he had become that the less she knew the safer he felt.

They had just finished the main course when Donald Fleming came into the box. “Mickey’s in the weighing room,” he said.

“I won the last race!” his wife called to him.

Fleming blew her a kiss, then turned to Christina. “Thank you for inviting my wife.”

Christina patted his arm. “She looks wonderful.”

“Thanks to you, all those dresses you sent over-she was like a little girl at Christmas. And don’t tell me they were ones you didn’t wear anymore because a couple had the price tags still on them.”

“You didn’t mind, did you? I knew she hadn’t been well enough to go shopping.”

“Mind? Course not. Having her here today makes it even more special. Cream’ll be if Royal Flush wins.”

Fleming crossed to his wife. She was talking about her recent mastectomy with Helen Lyons, who found operations fascinating.

De Jersey turned to Christina. “What was that about his wife?”

“I sent over some dresses for her to choose something to wear. She’s been very poorly.”

“I thought the operation was a success,” he said, looking at his watch. He was impatient to go to the stables.

“Yes, but she lost self-confidence.” Christina touched the emerald-and-diamond brooch on her lapel. “Can you see if the safety catch is on?” Her husband bent to look. “I don’t know why you wanted me to wear it. I’m always afraid of losing it, and with these crowds…”

“Looks okay. It suits that jacket.”

Christina nuzzled his neck. “It would suit any jacket. It’s magnificent.”

De Jersey grinned boyishly. He adored buying her expensive gifts. This brooch, for her last birthday, had been especially costly. The matching earrings were in his pocket. He had intended to give them to her before he left that morning but then decided that if Royal Flush won they would make it a memorable day for her too.

The next race was ready for the off. Fleming beckoned to de Jersey; it was time to get Royal Flush saddled up. De Jersey asked Christina to take the girls to the parade ring; he would join them there. He leaned close. “Just you and the girls, darling. You know I don’t like too many people around when we saddle up.” She nodded. As de Jersey and Fleming left, she joined the guests on the balcony to explain they would return after the race. David was put out that he couldn’t come, so Christina explained Edward’s nervousness and suggested that David could make his way to the stands around the parade ring and watch the saddling from there.