Me Before You(43)
Author: Jojo Moyes

‘I think that’s your race, the Hempworth Cup,’ Nathan said, glancing up at the screen. ‘Who did you say your money was on? Man Oh Man?’ He grinned. ‘I never knew how much more fun betting is when you’re actually watching the horses.’

‘You know, I didn’t tell you this, but I’ve never been racing before either,’ I told Nathan.

‘You’re kidding me.’

‘I’ve never even been on a horse. My mum is terrified of them. Wouldn’t even take me to the stables.’

‘My sister’s got two, just outside Christchurch. She treats them like babies. All her money goes on them.’ He shrugged. ‘And she isn’t even going to eat them at the end of it.’

Will’s voice filtered up towards us. ‘So how many races will it take to ensure we’ve fulfilled your long-held ambitions?’

‘Don’t be grumpy. They say you should try everything once,’ I said.

‘I think horse racing falls into the “except incest and morris dancing” category.’

‘You’re the one always telling me to widen my horizons. You’re loving it,’ I said. ‘And don’t pretend otherwise.’

And then they were off. Man Oh Man was in purple silks with a yellow diamond. I watched him flatten out around the white rail, the horse’s head extended, the jockey’s legs pumping, arms flailing backwards and forwards up the horse’s neck.

‘Go on, mate!’ Nathan had got into it, despite himself. His fists were clenched, his eyes fixed on the blurred group of animals speeding around the far side of the track.

‘Go on, Man Oh Man!’ I yelled. ‘We’ve got a steak dinner riding on you!’ I watched him vainly trying to make ground, his nostrils dilated, his ears back against his head. My own heart lurched into my mouth. And then, as they reached the final furlong, my yelling began to die away. ‘All right, a coffee,’ I said. ‘I’ll settle for a coffee?’

Around me the stands had erupted into shouting and screaming. A girl was bouncing up and down two seats along from us, her voice hoarse with screeching. I found I was bouncing on my toes. And then I looked down and saw that Will’s eyes were closed, a faint furrow separating his brows. I tore my attention from the track, and knelt down.

‘Are you okay, Will?’ I said, moving close to him. ‘Do you need something?’ I had to yell to make myself heard over the din.

‘Scotch,’ he said. ‘Large one.’

I stared at him, and he lifted his eyes to mine. He looked utterly fed up.

‘Let’s get some lunch,’ I said to Nathan.

Man Oh Man, that four-legged imposter, flashed past the finishing line a miserable sixth. There was another cheer, and the announcer’s voice came over the tannoy: Ladies and gentlemen, an emphatic win there from Love Be A Lady, there in first place, followed by Winter Sun, and Barney Rubble two lengths behind in third place.

I pushed Will’s chair through the oblivious groups of people, deliberately bashing into heels when they failed to react to my second request.

We were just at the lift when I heard Will’s voice. ‘So, Clark, does this mean you owe me forty pounds?’

The restaurant had been refurbished, the food now under the auspices of a television chef whose face appeared on posters around the racecourse. I had looked up the menu beforehand.

‘The signature dish is duck in orange sauce,’ I told the two men. ‘It’s Seventies retro, apparently.’

‘Like your outfit,’ said Will.

Out of the cold, and away from the crowds, he appeared to have cheered up a little. He had begun to look around him, instead of retreating back into his solitary world. My stomach began to rumble, already anticipating a good, hot lunch. Will’s mother had given us eighty pounds as a ‘float’. I had decided I would pay for my food myself, and show her the receipt, and as a result had no fears at all that I was going to order myself whatever I fancied on the menu – retro roast duck, or otherwise.

‘You like going out to eat, Nathan?’ I said.

‘I’m more of a beer and takeaway man myself,’ Nathan said. ‘Happy to come today, though.’

‘When did you last go out for a meal, Will?’ I said.

He and Nathan looked at each other. ‘Not while I’ve been there,’ Nathan said.

‘Strangely, I’m not overly fond of being spoon-fed in front of strangers.’

‘Then we’ll get a table where we can face you away from the room,’ I said. I had anticipated this one. ‘And if there are any celebrities there, that will be your loss.’

‘Because celebrities are thick on the ground at a muddy minor racecourse in March.’

‘You’re not going to spoil this for me, Will Traynor,’ I said, as the lift doors opened. ‘The last time I ate out anywhere was a birthday party for four-year-olds at Hailsbury’s only indoor bowling alley, and there wasn’t a thing there that wasn’t covered in batter. Including the children.’

We wheeled our way along the carpeted corridor. The restaurant ran along one side, behind a glass wall, and I could see there were plenty of free tables. My stomach began to rumble in anticipation.

‘Hello,’ I said, stepping up to the reception area. ‘I’d like a table for three, please.’ Please don’t look at Will, I told the woman silently. Don’t make him feel awkward. It’s important that he enjoys this.

‘Badge, please,’ she said.

‘Sorry?’

‘Your Premier Area badge?’

I looked at her blankly.

‘This restaurant is for Premier badge holders only.’

I glanced behind me at Will and Nathan. They couldn’t hear me, but stood, expectantly, waiting. Nathan was helping remove Will’s coat.

‘Um … I didn’t know we couldn’t eat anywhere we wanted. We have the blue badges.’

She smiled. ‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘Only Premier badge holders. It does say so on all our promotional material.’

I took a deep breath. ‘Okay. Are there any other restaurants?’

‘I’m afraid the Weighing Room, our relaxed dining area, is being refurbished right now, but there are stalls along the stands where you can get something to eat.’ She saw my face fall, and added, ‘The Pig In A Poke is pretty good. You get a hog roast in a bun. They do apple sauce too.’

‘A stall.’

‘Yes.’