Keeping the Peace (12 page)

Pippa raised a stern finger at him.

‘
Listen to me, Jack
,’ she said in a slow even tone. ‘Do you have any booklets from last year? Give me one so I know what it looks like. Then give me the correct order you want them put in and I will sort it out –’

‘You can’t. You’re only a bloody waitress!’

Pippa’s blood began to simmer.

‘I am also all you have right now. So do as I ask and stop wasting time.’

Jack glared at her and Pippa wondered if he was going to start throwing things around.

‘What are you going to do?’ he asked instead.

‘I have a plan,’ she said, not confident enough to say what exactly. ‘Now, what about entries and declarations?’

‘Only a handful, thank God. I’ll have them ready for you in a few minutes.’ He slid open a drawer and after rummaging around in it, retrieved a glossy A4 booklet. ‘This was last year’s,’ he said, resigned.

‘Fine.’ She took it and walked away. ‘One last thing, Jack,’ she said, pausing at the doorway. ‘Don’t you
ever
talk to me like that again.’

Back at her desk, Pippa unearthed her mobile phone from her bag and with trembling fingers, scrolled through her address book.

‘Hi Tash. It’s Pip.’

‘Hey, sweets! What’re you doing calling me at work. Not another Jimmy Choos sale I’ve missed, is there?’

‘Not quite.’ She eased her quaking knees as she sank into her seat. ‘I need to ask you a big big favour.’

‘Sure. What’s up? Are you okay?’

The concern in Tash’s tone made Pippa want to cry.

‘We’ve got an Open Day tomorrow and we’ve just discovered Jack’s last secretary didn’t order the booklets which get handed out. If I get all the info together, do you think you could bash something half-decent together before tomorrow?’

‘Like what?’

Pippa flicked through the pages in front of her.

‘Booklets. A4 size, colour with photos. About thirty pages. I guess about a hundred and fifty copies.’

‘Blimey, Pip. I thought you were going to ask for a couple of flyers or something. But a hundred and fifty
full
booklets? In one day?’

Pippa felt the blood drain from her face. Tash was her one and only hope.

‘Please, Tash. You have to help.’

‘Design is backed-up at the moment. Your booklet sounds at least a full day’s work for them. Then it’s got to be printed. I’m sorry, Pip. Our schedule’s manic –’

‘What if I designed it then?’ she said in desperation. ‘What’s the latest I could get it to you to be printed?’

‘Well, ideally we ask for a week’s notice, but I can see that not happening.’ She paused and Pippa could imagine Tash’s business brain clicking into gear. ‘This is going to take you all day to do so it’s not going to make print before close of business. What time does this thing start?’

‘Half eleven.’

‘Right. That’s almost a full morning then. You do some artistic wizardry on your computer and get the design to me by half seven tomorrow morning and I’ll slip it in the print queue and courier it over to you. We should make it.’

Pippa sighed with relief.

‘Oh, thank you so much. I owe you big time.’

‘So does Orladam in the Print Centre,’ Tash drawled. ‘This is called payback, baby.’

Pippa mustered half a smile.

‘You went out with him then?’

‘Yep. He was DJ-ing at a club over the weekend and he invited me to join him. He’s twenty by the way.’

‘Out of nappies then?’

‘He was out of Calvin Kleins too, Saturday night. I’m thinking of changing his name to Aladdin rather than Orladam.’

Pippa laughed then covered her mouth so Jack wouldn’t hear.

‘You devil, you.’

‘Pah! Devil nothing. Stop gassing. I’ve got work to do and so do you by the sounds of it. You can do it. Don’t let that Jack Carmichael use you as a punching bag.’

‘How –’ It always amazed Pippa how Tash seemed to know exactly what was going through her head.

‘I just do. Now go away and do some work.’

By lunchtime, Pippa had finished the entries and declarations, directed a call from the
Racing Post
through to Jack, promised six other people Virtuoso tail hairs and shoes, taken a call from the caterers asking whether she would prefer Winter Pimms rather than the summer variety, downloaded a programme off the internet on which she could design booklets and was now only just starting on the cover.

She looked at last year’s cover, which was a simple photograph of two horses jumping a schooling fence out on the Gallops and “Aspen Valley Stables Horses In Training” written in plain black font. Pippa pulled a face. It was a bit...
boring
. She flexed her fingers and straightened her shoulders.

‘Right.’ If she was going to do anything with this booklet, then one thing for sure was that it would look good.

While snatching the occasional bite of her sandwich, she wrestled with the design programme, deciding on a photograph of Virtuoso clearing the water jump during his Cheltenham Gold Cup win last season. She saturated it with the red and white stable colours of Aspen Valley, the sun in the corner shedding pink rays across the background. She added a brush effect to both jockey crouching in his saddle and the horse stretching out to enhance the feeling of speed. In a bold Edwardian font she typed out
Aspen Valley Stables
.

Just as she tweaked the contrast and brightness of the picture to finish off the cover, the main office door opened and Finn stepped in. He scraped his boots on the wire mat and held up a piece of paper with a grin.

‘Jack asked me to pass this on to you. It’s a list of all our residents from Block A to Block H.’ He handed Pippa the sheet of paper.

‘Jack avoiding me, do you think?’ she said. ‘Who are the lucky ones to be kept in H Block?’

‘By the look on your face, it should be Jack.’

She laughed and waved him away.

‘Don’t mind me. I’m just picking up on Jack’s stress, is all. I don’t know how tomorrow is going to pan out.’

Finn shrugged.

‘It’ll be good
craic
, I’m sure. Busy, but fun so long as the weather stays dry.’ His eyes softened at her anxious expression. ‘You’ll enjoy it, I promise. Just serve them enough jars and they’ll all be flamin’ by two o’clock and then they won’t care if a couple of things go wrong.’

‘Oh, God. Don’t say that. Enough has gone wrong already.’

Finn’s laughing green eyes wavered from Pippa to the wall behind her.

‘That’s good.’

Pippa turned in her seat to look where he was motioning.
Hazyvale Dawn
, which she’d brought in with her earlier that morning, proudly adorned the wall.

‘Thanks.’

Finn looked at her in surprise.

‘You did that? Jaysus, what are you doing here sittin’ behind a desk? You should be in a studio wearing a beret and smock, not here.’

‘I wish. Maybe someday though,’ she said, a trace of wistfulness escaping.

‘What did himself think of it?’

Pippa giggled.

‘Jack hasn’t noticed yet. Well, I think he noticed
something
earlier, but he couldn’t figure out what.’

‘That’s men for you, I’m afraid. I think it’s grand. Will you be doing any more? It’s brightened this place up, to be sure.’

Pippa thought of
Morning Stables
, but decided she would keep that picture for herself. The unintended inclusion of Peace Offering in it made it somehow more personal.

‘I might do. The countryside around here is so beautiful. It’s just finding the time.’

‘Aye. Speaking of which,’ he said, rolling up sleeve and looking at his watch. ‘I’ve got to get on. Right ye be, Pippa.’

The clock on the opposite wall struck five o’clock and Pippa leaned back in her chair and stretched. Usually, around this time she would be packing up and thinking of dinner and what to tackle next in the cottage, but today those thoughts were far from her mind. At the forefront was the booklet, which she was still struggling with.

She groaned, knowing she would need Jack’s help in order to complete it. Last year’s version had a brief but fact-filled form write-up for each horse and she didn’t have the faintest idea how to update them. Jack had promised to be back from the races by five, but there was still no sign of him or the horse lorry. Realising there wasn’t much she could do until he returned, she dug through her handbag for her cigarettes and shrugging on her coat, headed for the door.

Outside, it was cold and already dark. By the glow of the electric light, she watched the stable staff finishing up their day. She needed a break, but for once, her cigarette tasted disgusting. She doused it in a puddle before throwing it in a nearby bin and retreating inside the office again.

She was rewording the introduction on the first page ten minutes later when Jack walked in. They looked at each other for a moment, an awkward silence filling the room.

‘You’re still here,’ he said at last.

‘No rest for the wicked,’ she replied, attempting a smile. She needed Jack on her side if they had any chance of getting this booklet finished in time.

‘How is the booklet looking?’

‘Come see for yourself.’ She pushed her chair back from her desk to make room for him. He walked around the reception unit and rested his hands on the desk, clicking on the different pages.

Pippa waited for his verdict, her hands intertwining.

‘I-I need your help with the form write-ups,’ she said, her voice quiet and humble.

Jack straightened up and nodded.

‘Okay. Give me a minute.’ He went into his office, reappearing a minute later, minus his jacket and wheeling his black leather chair to join Pippa in front of her computer.

Pippa edged sideways to make room.

‘Right,’ he said, once settled. ‘Where shall we start?’

‘With Box One would probably be best.’

Jack sighed and rubbed his eyes. Pippa noticed the dark circles beneath them. His hair was messy, making him look even more tired.

‘Okay. Box One: Spurwing Island.’ Jack picked up the old booklet and flicked through it. ‘Lightly raced over hurdles. Has done well over fences, but doesn’t like the ground too soft.’

Pippa bent over her keyboard, typing furiously to keep up.

‘Am I going to fast?’

‘No, you’re all right.’ She smiled at his concern. ‘Carry on.’

‘Er, doesn’t like the ground too soft. Finished third in his last start in two-mile novice chase at Huntingdon. Ought to improve with step up in trip. Box Two: Dexter. Easy win on debut over hurdles in September after winning a bumper at Newbury last season. Stays well. Could be high class hurdler. One to follow...’

Three quarters of an hour later, Pippa stopped typing and flexed her fingers. Her eyelids felt lead-coated and her head hurt from staring at the computer screen all day.

Jack broke off mid-sentence.

‘Do you want a break?’

‘Would you mind?’ she said, her eyes pleading.

‘No. Go have a cigarette or something if you want to.’

‘I’ll make us a drink.’

She returned a couple of minutes later with two steaming mugs of coffee, placing one in front of Jack.

‘I’m allowed coffee? What have I done to deserve such a treat?’ he asked, raising a wry eyebrow.

The fact that for the past forty-five minutes he had been generally calm and courteous towards her had been enough for her to forgive him, at least temporarily, for being so rude.

‘Figured you might need it. You look tired.’

‘So do you,’ he said, taking a noisy sip and looking over the rim at her.

‘A bit. Today’s been pretty hectic with everything going on.’

‘You’ll sleep well.’ A faint smile parted his lips.

‘Hopefully when I’m in my bed and not before,’ she replied with a laugh. ‘All I need is to fall asleep at the wheel. I could probably do with some caffeine tablets or something, but until then there’s always this.’ She held up her coffee, but paused when she saw Jack’s face fall.

‘Oh, shit,’ he said, his tone thick with dread. ‘
Tablets
. I meant to stop off and pick them up on the way home. What’s the time? Fuck, they’re going to be closed soon.’

‘What? Jack?’ Pippa put down her mug and watched, speechless, as Jack hurtled out of his chair, making it crash against the back wall, and rushed into his office. ‘What are you talking about, Jack?’ she called after him. ‘What tablets? Can’t it wait ’til tomorrow?’

Jack appeared again, buttoning up his jacket and striding towards the exit.

‘No. I’ve already forgotten twice. He’s run out of his medication. Sorry, Pippa. I’ll be back in half an hour at the latest. I’ve got to get his pills.’

‘Whose?’ Pippa cried, roused to her feet by the urgency in Jack’s voice.

‘Berkeley’s!’ he yelled over his shoulder as he ran out into the yard.

Pippa sat back down with a bump.

‘The dog?’ she said, feeling unimpressed.

Pippa sat in silence, finishing her coffee and listening to the whirr of the fan on her computer. She watched the hands on the clock face fall past six then slowly start to rise towards the hour. She picked up her empty mug and Jack’s untouched one and deposited them in the kitchenette’s sink.

She was just fashioning an extra page of a lovely photo of the Gallops for the back of the booklet when Jack appeared at the doorway.

‘Sorry about that,’ he muttered.

Startled, Pippa leapt in her chair.

‘Jesus, you frightened me,’ she said, placing a hand on her chest.

‘Sorry.’ A mouth-watering smell wafted over to Pippa and she peered over the reception unit at the plastic bag he held. He lifted it onto the counter and began to unearth little plastic and foil cartons. ‘Thought you might be hungry,’ he mumbled, not meeting her eye.

‘You bought us Chinese?’ she said, a smile splitting her face.

Jack looked embarrassed and he busied himself placing the containers on the desk.

‘We might be here for a while yet.’

‘I’ll go get plates,’ Pippa grinned and hurried back to the kitchenette.