Colin in Racing Colours , livre ebook

Title Page

COLIN IN RACING COLOURS




By
Merv Lambert




Publisher Information

Colin In Racing Colours
Published in 2011 by
Andrews UK Limited

www.andrewsuk.com

This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior written consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published, and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

The characters and situations in this book are entirely imaginary and bear no relation to any real person or actual happening.

Copyright © Merv Lambert

The right of Merv Lambert to be identified as author of this book has been asserted in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyrights Designs and Patents Act 1988.




Dedication




‘’I would like to dedicate the story ‘Colin in the Blitz’ to my late friend Albert Jasper.’’



Colin in Racing Colours

Olivia and Colin had talked about going to the races and Mr. Jellysox had agreed to look after Sammy for them. It had not occurred to them that Colin’s special book would take them to the most famous horse-race in England, nor that M would accompany them. However, that is what happened. The bookmark glowed merrily in Colin’s pocket, almost as if enjoying a private joke. One moment they were at home and Colin was just opening the book. The next they were on another adventure.
When Olivia looked at Colin, she saw that he was wearing a smart, long, dark grey overcoat. When Colin looked at Olivia, he saw his beautiful wife dressed in a long coat, also grey, a neat hat and smart comfortable black boots.
“Wow!” she said. “Guess where we are.” Both Colin and M were smiling back at her, looking puzzled.
“We’re at Aintree, for the Grand National!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands excitedly.
“Yes, but when are we there?” wondered Colin. “The grandstand’s over there.” As he turned to point in that direction, a portly figure, very smartly dressed, came bearing down on them, looking red-faced and angry.
“What are you doing hanging about here? Come on! You’re late already! My wife, Lady Fallowfield, will be furious. She doesn’t like slackers.”
The bookmark pulsed reassuringly in Colin’s pocket. He decided to go along with what this rather pompous but amusing man was saying. Instinctively he knew who or rather what he was now.
“O.K., Lord Fallowfield,” he said. “By the way, this is my wife Olivia.”
“Oh!” Lord Fallowfield was taken aback. He raised his hat politely before saying, “Sorry, my dear. I must rush your husband away. He’s urgently needed elsewhere.”

“That’s all right. I’m coming too,” said Olivia, and all three fell into step, followed by M, who was of course not seen by Lord Fallowfield.
Placing a hand on Colin’s shoulder, he said, ”Go on! Our trainer’s waiting for you in the changing-rooms over there. You know what Ned Sarkey’s like, don’t you? He’s usually in a bad mood at the best of times. Yes, yes, get on. Go! I’ll take your wife to meet mine. Off you go and good luck!”
Colin shrugged and gave Olivia a ‘What-can-I-do-about-it?’ smile. She grinned back at him. “See you later. You’ll be fine.” With that she allowed herself to be led away by Lord Fallowfield. M trotted invisibly behind Colin.
On entering the jockeys’ changing-room, Colin saw the benches around the walls and a crowd of jockeys, who had changed into their colours for the big race. Some were sitting quietly. Others were pacing up and down. A thin, balding, middle-aged man, who was obviously a jockey’s valet ran up to Colin and said, ”You’re late! Ned Sarkey’s been looking everywhere for you. Come on! Let’s get you ready for the race!”
Soon Colin was dressed in his racing silks. His cap was red, green and silver, and he wore a matching racing top. He felt very comfortable in his outfit, especially his riding-boots.
“Thank you,” he said, as the valet handed him his whip.
“Don’t keep Ned Sarkey waiting any longer,” was the reply.
Colin hurried out to be met by a shortish, sharp-featured man, who seemed just able to keep his bad temper in check.
“There you are at last!” he snapped. “Been looking for you everywhere. Just don’t go messing things up like last time. Concentrate and keep him in the main forward bunch, if you can, until three fences from home. Then let him loose. Big Bird knows what to do.” Little did he know that M was nodding sagely behind him. “And remember, Big Bird’s only his racing name. He’s a very intelligent horse and likes to be called Elvis ‘cos he’s the King. Keep an eye out for Scorbo though. He’s sure to try something underhand, if he gets the chance.” The bookmark pulsed in Colin’s pocket.
He knew exactly what to say, and he knew the phoenix on it would guide him through what to do, for he had already realised what his connection was with the big race. Everyone seemed to recognise him. He could hardly wait to tell Olivia about it all afterwards, but first he had to participate in a very exciting event.
All he said was, “O.K., guv,” before collecting his saddle and darting off to the weighing-room to be weighed before the race.
Not long afterwards Olivia, standing with Lord and Lady Fallowfield, who had taken an instant liking to her, watched as Colin, mounted on their horse Big Bird, a.k.a. Elvis, a big black stallion that was one of the favourites to win the race, paraded around with the other horses before the start of the Grand National. The bookmark was controlling Colin’s every action. He looked a natural jump-jockey. As usual time seemed to pass very quickly for Colin, but he noticed that M was standing patiently next to Elvis for the start of the race.
“Oh, oh!” he thought. “This should be interesting.”
He whispered, “Behave yourself, M. No cheating.”
The emu ducked his head once as if in agreement.
Then they were off! It was a cold, sunny day, as more than forty horses galloped away towards the first of the fences they had to negotiate.
Olivia in the grandstand was jumping up and down in excitement, as only she in the crowd could see the extra animal participating in the race. M nimbly kept out of the way of all the horses, staying next to Colin and hopping over the first fence with ease. Already two horses had fallen, but with the bookmark pulsing evenly, Colin was able to keep Elvis up with the leading group. The horse knew what to do without much help from him. They were both enjoying themselves. So was M! Colin concentrated hard amid the bright colours of the jockeys’ silks and the thunder of the hooves on the turf. It was glorious, especially as M was having the time of his life, hopping over the fences in his own amusing style. As Elvis sailed easily over fence after fence, Colin had little time to reflect. That was Becher’s Brook neatly cleared, and then Elvis seemed to know that he had to jump the Canal Turn fence at an angle. So did M! Unknown to Colin, next to him John Scorbo lashed with his whip at a loose riderless horse in order to send it into Elvis. However, he was foiled by the emu, who merely shrugged the horse easily out of the way. It continued to run eagerly onwards. Now, still up with the leaders, they were approaching the biggest fence, which was called The Chair. This was no problem for Elvis or M. Both cleared it safely. Already the race was half over. They had crossed the Melling Road for the second time and were on the second and final circuit of the course. As Colin, Elvis and M reached Fence 13 for the second time, Colin became aware of a rider next to him, who, grimacing through his muddied goggles, seemed to be cursing him. Yes, he recognised the dark features of John Scorbo, who was riding a horse even bigger than Elvis. This time Colin heard what Scorbo shouted.
“I’ll get you this time!”
“Well,” thought Colin. “Not very bright of him to warn me in advance.”
The bookmark throbbed reassuringly once more, as Elvis galloped on. They were nearing the end of the race now with only three fences to go. Colin remembered the instructions from Ned Sarkey, the trainer, to let Elvis loose now.
“Come on, Elvis. Come on, boy!” urged Colin.
His horse needed no further encouragement. He increased his pace, so that he was now up with the leaders. The third last fence, though not especially difficult loomed large. As Elvis was soaring over it, Colin felt something pull at his left boot, but it was almost too brief to notice. They were over the fence and now Elvis was in the lead. Only Olivia saw what really happened. Lord Fallowfield had lent her his binoculars. She saw John Scorbo lean forward on his horse and sneakily reach out his left hand, trying to pull Colin’s boot out of the stirrup.