Дик Фрэнсис - Decider

I’d spent my own semi-wakeful night thinking about it, but I answered her casually. ‘It’s probably because it seems so unreal. I mean, it’s not exactly routine to be discussing the possibility of one’s own murder.’

‘I do see that,’ she agreed. ‘So... are you going?’

I couldn’t answer her, because I still didn’t know. I had the five children to consider, and for their sakes I thought I should avoid any further confrontations as much as possible. The manic quality of Keith’s hatred for me had been all too evident in the ferocity of his kicks and now he also had the justification for an attack — in his eyes — because of my involvement in the uncovering of Harold Quest and the delivery of Quest’s confession to Marjorie. I had thrown him at her feet: he would kill me for it. I did deep down believe he would try and, although I didn’t want to, I feared him.

I could probably ensure the boys a live father by leaving the arena.

I could... run away.

It was unrealistic, as I’d told Toby, to expect to be steadfast every day of the week. It would be prudent to go.

The trouble was that though I might long to, the part of me that ultimately decided things couldn’t go.

‘I wish,’ I said fervently, ‘that I were able to do as the Strattons do, and blackmail Keith into leaving me alone.’

‘What a thought, dear!’

‘No chance, though.’

She put her head on one side, looking at my face and thinking on my behalf.

‘I don’t know if it’s of much help, dear,’ she said slowly, ‘but Conrad might have something like that.’

‘What sort of thing? What do you mean?’

‘I never knew exactly what it was,’ she said, ‘but William did have a way of keeping Keith in order during the past few years. Only, for once he didn’t tell me everything. I’d have said he was too ashamed of Keith, that time. He sort of winced away from his name, even. Then one day he said there were things he didn’t want people to know, not even after he died, and he thought he would have to give the knowledge to Conrad, his heir , you see, dear, so that Conrad could use it if he had to. I’d never seen him so troubled as he was that day. I asked him about it the next time he came to see me, but he still didn’t want to talk about it much. He just said he would give a sealed packet to Conrad with very strict instructions about when or if ever it should be opened, and he said he had always done the best he could for his family. The very best.’

She stopped, overcome. ‘He was such a dear , you know.’

‘Yes.’

The secrets were out. Perdita wept a few tears of fondness and felt clearly at peace. I stood up, kissed her cheek, and went downstairs to collect my newly-shorn children.

They looked great. Penelope’s pleased professionalism liquified my senses. The boys laughed with her, loving her easily, and I, who ached for her body, paid for their haircuts (despite her protestations) and thanked her, and took my sons painfully away.

‘Can we go back there, Dad?’ they asked.

‘I promised, ‘Yes, one day,’ and wondered ‘Why not?’ and ‘Perhaps she would love me’ and thought that the children liked her anyway, and fell into a hopeless jumble of self-justification, and was ready to dump my unsatisfactory marriage, which so recently, on the train, I had prayed to preserve.

The Gardners picked us up and took the clean clothes, the apples, the new trainers and the haircuts back to the racecourse and ordinary life.

In the evening we telephoned Amanda. At eight o’clock, she sounded languorously sleepy.

‘I spent a long night unhappily, thinking both of my own obligations and desires, but also of Keith and whatever he might be plotting. I searched for ways to defeat him. I thought of fear and the need for courage, and felt unready and inadequate.

By Wednesday morning Henry had gone home in his last truck, leaving everything so far accomplished ready for next time, and promising future improvements.

On Tuesday the flags over the big top had been furled into storage bags by ropes and pulleys and winches. The lights and the fans were switched off. The caterers’ side-tents were laced tight, giving no casual access. The fire extinguishers remained in place, scarlet sentinels, unused. Henry’s man and some of the groundsmen had scrubbed the tramp of a few thousand feet off the flooring with brooms and hoses.

On Wednesday morning Roger and I walked down the centre aisle, desultorily checking the big empty rooms to each side. No chairs, no tables; a few plastic crates. The only light was daylight from outside, filtering through canvas and the peach roofing, and changing from dull to bright and to dull again as slow clouds crossed the sun.

‘Quiet, isn’t it?’ Roger said.

A flap of canvas somewhere rattled in the wind but all else was silent.

‘Hard to believe,’ I agreed, ‘how it all looked on Monday.’

‘We had the final gate figures yesterday afternoon,’ Roger said. ‘The attendance was eleven per cent up on last year. Eleven per cent! And in spite of the stands being wrecked.’

‘Because of them,’ I said. ‘Because of the television coverage.’

‘Yes, I suppose so.’ He was cheerful. ‘Did you see the papers yesterday? ‘Plucky Stratton Park.’ Goo like that. Couldn’t be better!’

‘The Strattons,’ I said, ‘said they were holding a meeting this morning. Do you know where?’

‘Not here, as far as I’ve heard. There’s only the office,’ he said doubtfully, ‘and it’s really too small. Surely they’ll tell you where, if they’re meeting.’

‘I wouldn’t bet on it.’

We walked slowly back towards the office, unusually idle; and Dart in his beaten-up car drove onto the tarmac.

‘Hello,’ he said easily, climbing out, ‘am I the first?’

Roger explained about his lack of instructions.

Dart’s eyebrows rose. ‘When Marjorie said meeting, I took it for granted she meant here.’

The three of us continued towards the office, amicably.

Dart said, ‘The police gave me my wheels back, as you see, but it’s a wonder I’m not in the slammer. A matter of time, I dare say. They’ve decided I blew up the stands.’

Roger paused briefly in mid-stride, astounded. ‘You?’

‘Like, my car came up positive for HIV, hashish, mad cow disease, dirty finger-nails, you name it. Their dogs and their test-tubes went mad. Alarm bells all over the place.’

‘Nitrates,’ I interpreted.

‘You’ve got it. The stuff that blew up the stands came to the racecourse in my car. Eight to eight-thirty, Good Friday morning. That’s what they say.’

‘They can’t mean it,’ Roger protested.

‘Yesterday afternoon they gave me a bloody rough time.’ For all his bright manner, it was clear he’d been shaken. ‘They hammered away at where did I get the stuff, this P.E.4 or whatever. My accomplices, they kept saying. Who were they? I just goggled at them. Made a weak joke or two. They said it was no laughing matter.’ He made a comic-rueful face. ‘They accused me of having been in the army cadet corps at school. Half a lifetime ago! I ask you! I said so what, it was no secret. I marched up and down for a year or two to please my grandfather, but a soldier by inclination I am definitely not . Sorry, Colonel.’

Roger waved away the apology. We all went into the office, standing around, discussing things.

Dart went on. ‘They said I would have handled explosives in the cadets. Not me, I said. Let others play at silly buggers. All I really remembered vividly of the cadets is crawling all over a tank once and having nightmares afterwards about falling in front of it. The speed it could go! Anyway, I said, talk to Jack, he’s in the cadets for the same reason as I was, and he’s still at school and hates it, and why didn’t they ask him where you could get boom boom bang bangs, and they practically clicked on the handcuffs.’