Race Girl (35 page)

The pics with Brandon got the most likes – nearly as many as those of Dahlia – and, as time went on, Tully found herself posing more confidently in shots for photographers and her accounts, beaming a confident smile that felt more and more her own.

★

Christmas this year at Avalon finally felt like the holidays of years gone by. Despite the absence of her mother, a year on from her death, Tully's emotions seemed more to be of sweet nostalgia than searing pain. She was sure Brandon's presence was making a lot of difference, and he seemed equally thrilled to be part of a rural Christmas, his first since his mother had taken him to live in the city. He helped Tully put up the tree and decorations, even helped to make her father and Bucko, Fia, Tam, Judy and Mr. Barnes a proper Turkey dinner. They did get carried away making out and burned the turkey, but it was still edible, and the garlic mashed potatoes and stuffing they made from Tully's grandmother's recipe were, Brandon said, to die for.

Brandon's celebratory mood only heightened on Boxing Day, when his mother rang to let him know she'd met a French diplomat and was moving to Paris. ‘Hopefully you'll never have to meet her,' he said to Tully, stealing another kiss under the mistletoe, fastened to the archway fretwork in the central hallway. ‘I only ever saw her some weekends – she sent me to an elite Brissie school as a
boarder
, even though her house was only about twenty minutes away! Then she'd shove me off to footy or cricket or tennis on the weekends . . . I guess it was good I didn't have to see her much. But it's all good now. I'm finally free of the city,'

They celebrated New Year's with a dinner party at Tam's, then a few of Brandon's mates from school, including Heffo – whom Tam had apparently been in touch with – took them out to the pub to see a hard-rocking local band play and to celebrate Tully's eighteenth.

Brandon drove Tully home that night, but pulled off on a dirt track just before Mrs. Hoxton's driveway. They parked and spread a blanket out in the back of his ute, along with a picnic Brandon had organised consisting of two bottles of champagne and a block of Vegemite Cadbury. They lay together in the hot, humid night, under the twinkling silver stars until dawn, kissing and laughing and luxuriating in each other's company. It was the
new
best night of Tully's life – since meeting Brandon she'd had more than a few, and she prayed they would continue.

The next afternoon Brandon rode his stunning grey mare, Jillaroo, over for a visit, his shaggy little dog with the long floppy ears running along after them. Milo and Bear had hit it off straight away and tore around after each other around the stable yard while Tully tacked up Greg, then bounded up ahead as they set out for a ride up to the lookout. Tully and Brandon egged each other on into a dash up one smooth-ish hill, whooping and yelling encouragement to each other and the horses. Tully and Greg won by a length.

It wasn't long until Tully had even more celebrating to do, after finishing her HSC via correspondence and receiving her high school diploma in the mail. Her father framed the diploma and hung it on the wall of the lounge room, but didn't respond when Tully asked if he'd be coming to watch her next race.

The wet season brought more bumper storms and enough rainfall to keep the grass green and plentiful for the horses and cattle to graze on. After cleaning up from one particularly wicked tropical cyclone, Tully and Brandon headed out for another ride.

Brandon rode Frangi out as he'd been distraught when Greg left without him the first time. They cracked up with laughter, Frangi snorting and trying to buck Brandon after they had to ride around a fallen spotted gum at the top of the back paddock. But the pony was thrilled to be out and settled in, trotting happily along next to his best buddy Greg, who was plunging with excitement below Tully. They made it half way to the lookout before the horses needed a rest, turned and headed for home. Brandon's ropers dangled inches from the moist ground on the roly-poly pony, and his worn Akubra looked even better than that first day on the road. He even let Tully wear it once they got back, when they were grooming the horses and tucking them in their stalls for the night. He had to tip the brim of the wide hat with his thumb when he reached down to kiss her.

★

Brandon finally talked Pearce into letting him train two of Weston Park's promising colts and was up against Tully and Dahlia late that May in their Queensland Winter Racing Carnival debut.

Tully and Brandon eyed each other competitively across the mounting enclosure of Doomben, underneath the far-reaching branches of the great fig tree. They both grinned, Tully blushing wildly, wishing she could stop doing that around him. It was so embarrassing and he definitely enjoyed the effect he was having on her a little much for comfort.

She admired the effortless, powerful way Brandon moved as he strode up to give her a hug and a kiss on the cheek for good luck, telling her as he always did to ‘ride safe'. Tully shook her head, grinning, ‘No room for that in this sport, mate!' Then she winked at Brandon and loped back to help stretch Dahlia's legs and get her ready for the race.

Mr. Barnes hadn't had a runner in the carnival for years; he'd just been focusing on earning his money at provincial meets, but had entered Fin, Dahlia and his best colt, Radical Rae, in classes in the Doomben dates, with Dahlia working up to the prestigious 2400 metre Brisbane Cup. Everyone's fingers were crossed that Fin's nomination for Australasia's premier sprint race – the 1350 metre, $2-million-dollar Stradbroke Handicap – would hopefully be accepted.

Mr. Barnes called Taneisha back in to ride Fin so Tully could focus solely on Dahlia – it made sense, anyway, as the older, stronger Taneisha had more Group One experience under her belt.

Fin and Taneisha ran to a solid fourth in the BTC Cup on the first Saturday at Doomben, sending elation through the Barnes Racing camp. Brandon's new charge, Lucky Strike, however, ran to a lacklustre eighth. Tully avoided the Weston Racing stalls afterwards. Pearce's bellows could be heard the length of shed row.

Dahlia ran hard in her first 2000 metre, but a mid-pack start and a dirty move by a jockey from the Hunter Valley cost them a money finish. The jockey was suspended for riding his horse straight into them, pushing Dahlia into the rail at the 650-metre mark. Tully was determined to ride more defensively and aggressively as they worked up to the finale of the carnival.

Fin and Dahlia both claimed a class win each at Doomben's second and third meets. Brandon's horse improved with a fifth in one class, but Pearce was still fuming.

Finale day neared and all the Barnes Racing staff and connections assembled in the mounting enclosure the Wednesday before the final meet at Doomben alongside racing's elite for the all-important barrier draw for the Stradbroke Handicap. Fia and Pearce Weston both had contenders running

Crushingly, Mr. Barnes pulled barrier sixteen out of the school boy's hat, and even with one of the lightest handicaps, the big chestnut wasn't able to outrun the country's best sprinters to finish in the top-ten from the widest gate among the sixteen starters. Fia's big black colt finished fourth, Pearce's newest colt second. Tully watched on, struck by the lack of mention of Pearce's missing yearling. The image of the promising little bay still haunted her every time she heard the name ‘Weston Park'. Pearce had immediately spent the insurance money on the new, more experienced colt – the stolen yearling and the ‘death note' seemingly forgotten. Brandon said the detectives hadn't found any solid leads and that his father had banned his staff from mentioning ‘the incident' ever again.

In the Barnes Racing camp, however, the mood was far from celebratory, with nerves fraying and sights shifting to Tully and Dahlia in the final big class for the carnival, the Brisbane Cup . . .

Dahlia was fully focused on the track and shot out of the barriers with the win in her sights, not even bothering to snap at Pearce's brutish colt beside them, or the wide bay that got the jump. Tully steered her straight in to the rail, cutting just in front of the favourite for the win – trained by a third generation trainer out of Eagle Farm and ridden by none other than Steven ‘Shot Gun' Coalburn.

The whole establishment rose to their feet with Tully and her filly, the roar from the several-thousand strong crowd deafening as they lead the pack down that awesomely long straight, crossing the line nose-to-nose with Shot Gun, his whip still cracking against the flank of his gorgeous dapple grey mount.

Tully glanced back for confirmation, crying with shock and delight when she spotted the rest of the field filing in behind them and Avalon-Sky Dahlia's number ‘8' up in lights on the scoreboard.
Winners of the Brisbane Cup,
Tully thought, tears of joy and pride coursing down her cheeks.
That one's for you, Mum!

Dahlia pranced like a true champion around the track to the winner's circle, where Tully slid off – Peta parading Dahlia while Tully took her saddle to quickly ‘weigh in'. The stewards needed to make sure the horses ran with the correct advertised rate.

Tully held her breath on the scales, before she and Dahlia were declared ‘CORRECT WEIGHT' – making their first metro win official. She hurried back to her mare where the crowd was closing in, cameras flashing, music pumping from the bar areas and connections craning their necks to get a look at the winners.

An immaculate brunette who Tully recognised from her last movie, dressed in a fuchsia dress and spiky black fascinator, presented Tully with the huge silver cup and offered her congratulations. Men in suits reached forward cautiously to lift a white sash around Dahlia's neck – which she allowed, only to snap at the shortest, widest one when he didn't step back as quickly as the rest. The other three placing horses lined up a safe distance from Dahlia, posing with their owners for pictures. Fia and Mr. Barnes stood with Tully and Brandon even snuck out for a quick pic or two, before heading back to his father's stalls.

After the rest of the horses had filed off, a pack of journos with recorders, photographers with huge-lensed cameras and TV cameramen closed around Tully and Dahlia and the winner's music started up again, marking their success.

‘Tully,' a tall, slick journo said from the front. ‘Extraordinary result today, and what an incredible filly you've got.
What
a story you pair make! Is it true you're also her owner?'

‘It is,' Tully said, slipping down off Dahlia's back. Peta stepped forward to help hold the filly, offering a sneaky sugar cube to distract her from all the strangers. ‘She's an Athens horse. And, obviously, trained by the amazing Curtis Barnes out of Gulherin Lodge.'

‘And you were able to get her registered, without parentage?'

‘We were very lucky,' Tully said. ‘We have our suspicions about her bloodlines—but we aren't willing to speculate publicly, because all it would be is speculation. We'll never be sure, but none of that matters now. She's just . . . Well, she's extraordinary.'

‘Tully,' an eager female TV journo said from the front. ‘You lost your mother just over two years ago now. Were you riding for her out there today?'

Tully took a deep breath, fighting off the tears. Dahlia stamped her near-fore impatiently, pushed her shoulder into Tully, her ears pinned forward at the flashing cameras and the sea of people around them.

‘Easy, sweets,' Tully said, her face breaking into a grin. She took Dahlia's head under her arm, stroking the silky spot just above her muzzle. ‘My mum will always be my hero,' Tully said, sucking in a breath and turning into the cameras. ‘I like to think I'm continuing her legacy, but I'm a different rider to Mum.' She paused, scratching Dahlia's sweaty face underneath her brow band. ‘I've accepted that, and I've had to make my own way.

‘Racing is in our blood; some of my favourite memories will always be riding with Mum on my pony and her favourite horse, Greg. We used to talk about the day when I'd be old enough to race alongside her. I like to imagine she's proud of me when we blow across that line, and the win today
was
for her. But ultimately, I'm riding for Dahlia, and our farm, Avalon Downs. I want to have the biggest career I can, for my dad, and Dahlia and our family name. That would've made Mum proud, and it's what I want, too.'

‘Well you're certainly proving yourself out there,' a gruff blogger-type said from the back. ‘And so is that filly. Many say she's the best filly to debut here in a decade.'

‘
And
you've managed to land yourself a cute member of racing royalty,' the woman journo grinned. ‘
Brandon
Weston?'

Tully's whole body lit up like a sparkler at his name. ‘Brandon is amazing, too,' Tully laughed. ‘Yep.'

‘What's next on your calendar?'

‘Well, we haven't talked too much about that,' Tully said. ‘We've been preparing for this carnival all year, and to win a Group One here in Brisbane is the most unbelievable feeling. We haven't talked about what's going to come next.'

‘All the best for your future, Tully,' the woman journo said. ‘To you and the filly. Rising stars.'

‘She sure has a special bond with you,' a short, kind-faced journo said from the middle.