The Dogs are Running

Debbie was quite excited when Cantwell joined her halfway up the Stands. She was waving her race card around:
"I know who's going to win." she announced. "I overheard that man, in the smart camel hair coat telling his wife that 'Hollywood Star' was an absolute cert. His wife is wearing a really expensive coat and just look at her jewellery. They're the sort who know a thing or two, you can always tell."

Cantwell thought it looked pretty cheap costume jewellery and he wasn't impressed by the supposed smart looking man either. Still, if it was what Debbie wanted, what was the harm.

"Tom! Go and put some money on Hollywood Star - be a darling."

"Hollywood Star. Are you sure?" He glanced at the race card. "His odds aren't good." He heard himself saying.

"How would you know? You don't know anything about dog racing! They obviously do. Please, Tom."

Cantwell went to the least flamboyant bookie he could see and put five shillings to win on Hollywood Star. It was against his judgement, but if that was what Debbie wanted, who was he to argue.

When he returned and gave her the ticket, she was grinning from ear to ear. She had two tubs of cockles and two glasses of ginger beer. She handed him a tub and a glass:
"This is fun, Tom. I'm glad we came."

Suddenly the speakers crackled into life and Edmundo Ross' husky voice filled the air. 'There's an awful lot of coffee in Brazil." echoed round the stadium. Debbie had a mouth full of cockles when she spotted the dogs being paraded onto the track. She waved her wooden fork at them:
"Look, look that's Hollywood Star. She's in number six."

Cantwell sat down on the cold step and ate his cockles and drank the ginger beer. He caught sight of Soppy rushing up to Redbourne's stand. He noticed there was some chalking up, after his visit. However, the distance was too far for him to see what the changes were.

The first race generated much shouting and yelling. It was all over in a flash. Debbie had been jumping up and down and shouting with the rest of the punters. Once it was over, no one knew who had won. One thing was certain though, it wasn't Hollywood Star. She had loped home long after the winning three dogs had crossed the finish.

Nothing daunted, Debbie sat down and studied her race card, like an old hand. She frowned and tutted, then looked up:
"I think it's Howard's Hound." she said. "Put something on it for me, Tom."

"Are you sure? Why Howard's Hound?"

"I used to have an Uncle Howard. He was nice to me when I was little."

Cantwell was about to make a comment but thought better of it. Instead he went back to the same bookie and placed a bet for Debbie. This time he put a florin to win. He then felt in his pocket for the envelope that Temple had given him. He wandered up and down the rows of bookies. All the odds on Fairweather Friend were about the same 10 - 1 was the best. Then he spotted one who gave odds of 20 - 1. He paused for a second, then went up and placed his bet, took the ticket and crossed his fingers.