National Velvet (27 page)

    
Velvet opened her eyes.

    
“Got this in the yard at the back,” said Mi, shoving the gin bottle under the bed-clothes and near her feet. “Filled it myself. That's peppermint drink on the mantelpiece. Alcohol. It'll keep till the morning. It's mint an' spirits. Now you go to sleep an' I'll look in some time in the night.”

    
He went out and shut the door, leaving the light still on. Velvet slept fitfully beneath its glare, unaware of what was amiss. At three Mi looked in but she was still and he closed the door. At five he came in and found her awake. It was yet deep night, the light on and the windowpane black.

    
“Streaming outside,” he said. He looked white and tired. Then, turning to the mantelpiece, “You've
drank that stuff!”

    
“I thought I was going to die,” said Velvet, sitting up and looking bright, “n'hour ago. The room was going round. I got up an' drank it off. S'marvellous. Have you got another one an' six case I feel worse?”

    
“I might have,” said Mi, sitting down on the one hard chair. “Don't you go taking to drink.”

    
“Drink? Is it drink?”

    
“Told you it was spirits.”

    
“Well, I forgot. I was bad. It's saved me. Just look at that black rain on the glass. They won't put the race off, will they?”

    
“The going'll be heavy as lead. Now see, Velvet. You ready to listen to a lot o' things?”

    
“Yes, Mi.”

    
“Well an' ready? Cos I got a lot to say.”

    
“Yes, Mi.”

    
“Well, first here's a map of the Course. I got it from a chap. You oughta walked round with me this morning but it's so wet an' if I get you tired you'll be no use. Besides it's best you do without seeing what the other side o' Becher's is like.”

    
“When did you see it?”

    
“When did I see it? Didn't I tell you I know it all up here like my thumb? One time I used to shift coal on trucks on the line alongside Becher's. You can't see much on the National, there's such a crowd, but the Liverpool Autumn Meeting in November you got all to yourself. You can stand up there an' see the ambulance come an' see the men standing there with ropes ready an' all.”

    
“Ooh, Mi, ready for what?”

    
“Ready to lug the horsesi out of the drop.”

    
“Ooh–Mi.”

    
“Huh! It's not going to happen to you! You got The Piebald jumping under you. don't you forget that. All I mean is don't be surprised when you ride at Becher's, an' don't think you've jumped over the lip of a quarry, 'cos it isn't a quarry and you'll stop dropping in the end an' if you're not surprised the horse won't be.”

    
“Yes, Mi.”

    
“Now. We'll take the jumps all round. Same as if you were walking round, which you should be.”

    
Mi pulled his chair up to Velvet's bed and flattened the thin paper map on her sheet.

    
“Plan of the Liverpool Racecourse,” it said. “Distance of Grand National Course about four miles 856 yards.”

    
“Now then,” said Mi. “Just listen. You start . . .
here
at the corner. It says Taddock' just behind.”

    
“Yes, Mi.”

    
“(An' don' keep saying, 'Yes, Mi.') Don't fuss too much about your start. It's no odds getting off in a tear-away. What you got to do is to jump round and jump clean and go as fast as you can when you know what you're doing. But wait till you know what you're doing before you hurry. Mind you, he doesn't know nothing about racing. He won't be hard to hold. I know you got him under your thumb. Now. . . . First you cross a road. On tan. The tan'll fly up in your eye. Keep 'em shut across the road. Then the first fence. Plain fence. Then the next. Plain fence. You done just as big in the mushroom valley. There's nothing in them, but don't you despise 'em. Many's come down in the first two. There won't be much tailing there. You'll be all clustered up.

    
“Then comes a rail, ditch, and fence. I'm not saying it isn't an awful whopper for them as stands at the sides an' looks. It looks awful from the truckway. But it won't look so bad to you, you won't know it. You'll see a yellow-looking log lying low on the ground and
you must take off in time before it. It's on the lip of the ditch. It's not the landing so much there as the take-off.

    
“Then there's two more thorn fences. Then there's Becher's.

    
“Now
there's no need to fall at Becher's
. No need at all. I watched it an' I know. If I was sitting below you on the far side I wouldn't want to see the eyes popping out of your head as you came down. Just sit back. If you lie back you'll only be upright to the ground. don't jerk his head whatever you do. It's a long way down but he'll land steady. Just keep as still as if you were a dummy, and put confidence into him.”

    
“What's the drop, Mi?”

    
“I don' know but it looks twenty. On account of the ditch at the bottom. But you clear the ditch. That's nothing to do with you. You land on uphill grass an' gallop on. Then there's a . . . (I can't read that one! It's printed on the black. It's a plain jump anyway.) Then there's the Canal Turn . . .”

    
“Mi, I can't remember it all!”

    
“Put yer mind to it. The Canal Turn's a teaser. You got to put yer mind to it. There's a chance of horses running out there. They got a screen up to stop it but they seem to want to run out to the left. There's the canal shinin' right ahead. Perhaps that's it. They don't want to swim.

    
“You want to make for the middle of the jump at the Canal Turn. Don't you go skidding in to the left and saving ground. If you get on the inside as they turn an' you've just landed, God help you. Even if you can't
remember anything else remember to keep to the middle at the Canal Turn. You can't go wrong. There's the Canal shinin' just in front of you. A pack of seagulls'll rise most likely as you come up. They always do.”

    
“Mi, I swear I can't remember any more.”

    
“But I gotta tell you about Valentine's.”

    
“I'm getting sick again. You're making me sick again.”

    
“You're a nice one. Wish I'd got you a double!”

    
“That mint stuff?”

    
“M'm. Gotta get all this into you. Even if I drop the rest of the jumps I gotta tell you it's twice round the Course.”

    
“Well, I know that! Is it too early to get the mint?”

    
“It's not six yet. It's dark. Gosh a'mighty look at the rain!” Mi walked to the window.

    
“Well, go on. But not about the jumps. Yes . . tell me about the water jump.”

    
“The water jump's pink,” said Mi despondently.

    
“How d'you mean?”

    
“You got to say to yourself, 'It's pink. I gotta jump all of the pink.' “

    
“Why's it pink?”

    
“Everything else is grey,” said Mi, dully. “The water's puddled on pink clay. It looks meaty. It's opposite the Grand Stand. The people'll be yelling.”

    
“Go on, Mi! Tell me some more!” Velvet sat up straighter seeing that her supporter was flagging.

    
“M'murdering you, Velvet? V'I brought you up here to kill you . . . ?”

    
“No fear. No you aren't! You're tired. You're soppy! It's no more'n a day's hunting.”

    
“Oh, yes, it is! An' you never done a day's hunting.”

    
“Come on, Mi. Piebald an' me'll go round like crickets. Tell me some more.”

    
“I wish yer mother was here, Velvet.”

    
“She
is
here! She's inside me. Ain't you always telling me that if she hadn't swum the Channel I shouldn't be up here?”

    
“Tha's true. But you get so sick an' all. It's an awful drawback, this vomiting.”

    
“I'll grow out of it.”

    
“I'll get you some more mint when it's daylight.”

    
“Where's the money coming from?”

    
“I got that much. On'y we gotta be careful. It don' matter f'we land at the end of the race without a bean but we gotta have enough to get there.”

    
“How we going out?”

    
Mi looked at her. “Taxi,” he said. “That's what I bin saving up for. Chap'll do it fer three and six.”

    
“Gosh!” said Velvet.

    
“I gotta get you out there fresh . . . see?”

    
“Well then, come on then, tell me some more.”

    
“Look here now, I talked to a lotta chaps. This is how it is. Them jumps in the valley you gather yer horse up, don't you?”

    
“Yes.”

    
“Well, you can't go on doing that twice roun' the National. Or if you do you gotta do it like silk. Cos
when a horse gets as done as that he can't stand being gathered up, not like you would at the beginning. You gotta haul him in. You remember that! You gotta haul him in s'though he . . . s'though he was a big fish that was on'y half hooked. When he gets on to the Racecourse . . .”

    
“At the beginning?”

    
“No . . . that's what they call the end. The Racecourse. It means getting on to the straight after the jumps. It's when you get off the National Course an' come galloping up on the Gold Cup Course just before the Grand Stand. They call it 'coming on to the Racecourse.' ”

    
“Yes, Mi. Yes . . . well, I mean?”

    
“What was I saying? Oh, yes. When the horses get on to the second round, or a bit after (some don't do it till the second time Becher's), they begin to get their necks stickin' out so far you wouldn't know 'em. They can't jump like that. On the other hand if you pull 'em in with a jerk you throw 'em down. You want to haul. You want to take a pull an' a pull, s'gentle s'though you got 'em on a piece of silk an' it'll break. You gotta judge yourself how much you'll hustle after you've landed an' how soon before the next you'll take a little swig at the hauling.”

    
Quite suddenly Mi dozed. Velvet sat and looked at him and tried to remember the order of the jumps. The map had fallen out of his hand on to the floor but she did not like to disturb him to reach for it. The rain
slashed and dribbled on the whitening pane. The electric light flickered once or twice as though the power stations were swimming up into daylight and meeting the morning shift. Mi woke again with a start.

    
“Th' Adelphi's full o' chaps,” he said at once, brightly. “They say 'Yellow Messenger's' your trouble. He's a bay. Seventeen hands. Yellow jacket, crimson sleeves. And the Yank horse too. 'Bluebottle.' I shouldn't bother though. Just go round s'though you was alone.”

    
“You bin about all night?”

    
“Won't hurt this one night in the year. It's nearly six. I'm going to get you some breakfast. Everyone's about already.”

    
“Shall I get up?”

    
“No, you stop there. You'll be warmer. No point taking you about till I've got to. I'm going to get some stuff somewhere to tan up your neck.”

    
Mi left her with the map to study and went out. Velvet looked idly at the map but she seemed to learn nothing from it. The rain and the blackness and the night had beaten everything flat in her. “I wish Mi hadn't told me so much,” she thought. “I like it to come to me while I'm doing it.” And she pushed the map slightly to one side and shut her mind against it. Mi came in with some coffee and slices of white bread and a square of butter.

    
“Mi,” she said at once, “don't tell me a thing more. I want just to slide along till it's time thinking of nothing at all.”

    
“Huh!” said Mi, putting the tray on the one chair. “Think a race like this is won by luck?”

    
“Everyone riding to-day,” said Velvet, “knows more'n I do. I can't win that way.”

    
“What's your way, then?”

    
“Jus' knowin' The Piebald can do it, an' tellin' him so,” said Velvet, buttering her bread.

    
“Easy with that butter,” said Mi. “Spread it thin. You've no stomach for grease. Here's the stuff for your neck. It's iodine. I borrowed it.”

    
“Won't it smell that blood-smell?”