Pippa's Boy

After the disappointment of the third race, Debbie went to get them both a cup of coffee. When she returned, Cantwell pretended he was studying the card. Of course, he knew exactly what he was going to do but Debbie needn't know.

They sipped the coffee and she looked at her card:
"Nothing really appeals to me, love. Do you fancy any of them?" She tapped her teeth with a pencil.

"I like the sound of Pippa's Boy."

She looked closely at the numbers after the dog's name. Then, she wrinkled up her nose:
"He's no good! He's never won a race. Just like that other dog you did." She scrutinised him for a moment, "Still, you did alright last time."

"Tell you what, I'll take a gander round the bookie's stands and see where I can get the best odds. Then, I'll collect you and we'll go to stand by the winning post, this time."

He ambled along past Redbourne's stand and past the bookie with whom he'd placed the bet on Fairweather Friend. He was giving odds of 10 - 1 and he eyed Cantwell carefully. Further along the row of shouting sidekicks, Cantwell spotted another bookie giving odds of 25 - 1 for Pippa's Boy. He felt for the envelope and recalled what Soppy had said about the dog being worth an each way bet. He decided at last and put five shillings each way on Pippa's Boy. He could not believe how much he had just spent. Still, Temple had said keep the winnings and charge the losses to the kitty. Even so...

He tried to look nonchalant when he collected Debbie. They edged their way to the winning post. The same routine started, the Posthorm Gallop, the parade. Cantwell thought you knew just what to expect but the thrill was that you didn't know the end of the story. He glanced at Debbie. She was clutching his arm and grinning.

"I am enjoying this, Tom. I never thought I would. We must do it again."

Her comment made him feel guilty. They were there, after all, for his work. She had no idea and would have a fit if she knew the truth. Dodgy dogs would be as nothing to her temper, if she thought she was being used. Putting the thoughts behind him, he watched the dogs being loaded into the traps. The first dog went in easily, so did the second. Pippa's Boy who was in trap three had to be shoved in quite firmly. There was a lot of barking coming from all six dogs. Then there was complete silence. Only the slight fizzing noise from the 'hare' could be heard. The traps opened and everyone began yelling at once.

"Come on Pippa's Boy! Come on!" Debbie was yelling.

At the first bend, two dogs tripped and fell rolling towards the edge of the track. Cantwell's heart was in his mouth. One of them was a black dog. Then, he saw that a black dog with a white number jacket was still running. That was Pippa's Boy.

In what seemed like a flash, three dogs rushed past the winning post almost neck and neck. Cantwell saw flashes of colour but nothing else.

"It's between traps one, six and three," a man standing next to them said excitedly. "It's between those three, mate. Just hope it's trap six!"

The dogs were caught and put back on their leashes, then they were led away. Edmundo Ross' voice echoed round the stadium. After what seemed an eternity the speakers crackled back into life:
"There was a photo finish for the fourth race on your card. We will give the result shortly."

Debbie clutched his arm:
"Do you think we've won?"

"Don't know, Debs."

The music blared out again then stopped abruptly:
"The result for the fourth race is as follows:
First, by a short head, Lucky Lady, trap six; second by a short head was Pippa's Boy, trap three ..."

Cantwell did not hear which dog was third. The man next to them was slapping them on the back and punching the air. Cantwell looked at his own ticket and pulled Debbie to the bookie and collected the winnings.

"That's it, Debs, we've had enough excitement for one night. I think we deserve to treat ourselves to a meal." She looked disappointed. "Let's not chance our luck too much, eh?"

They drove out of Exeter to the George and Dragon pub near Countess Weir. Cantwell knew they would get a decent meal there. While they waited for the food, he pondered what he would tell Temple on Monday.