The day had finally arrived. Newmarket would be the last course that Dylan would ride at in the aptly named ‘end-of-term’ race meeting. Newmarket was truly special, rich in royal history due to Charles II spearheading the development of the town some three and a half centuries ago, when horseracing became ‘the sport of kings’. Newmarket is affectionately known as the global headquarters of racing today and considered its home. So, where better place for Dylan Delany, champion jockey, to close his racing career?
At home, in his own training yard, with Flora, he thought miserably as he slowly made his way to the starting line along with all the other jockeys. A few called out to him, wishing him all the best. He waved and smiled back, but inside his heart wasn’t in it. Flora had knocked all the enthusiasm completely out of him. He didn’t feel whole without her by his side. Try as he might the adrenalin refused to rise. Instead of this being his last memorable chance to bask in grandeur, he simply wanted the race over and done with so he could get back home.
This was a far cry from the competitive glory-seeker Dylan, who stopped at nothing to win. He was stunned by the effect Flora had had on him. Never in his life had he let a woman get to him like this. But there she was, under his skin the whole time. She was there in his mind as he woke up, throughout the day, and she was the last thing he thought about as he turned off the bedside light. He wasn’t eating properly, he just had no appetite and he certainly hadn’t slept much. When he did, his dreams pictured Flora and her accusing, hurt eyes boring into him.
He hadn’t prepared for this race, mentally or physically, and he felt the relentless attention he was receiving was undeserved. He glanced upwards, towards the Millennium Grandstand, where he knew Tobias had booked an executive box. He imagined them all – Tobias, Megan, Seamus and Tatum – quaffing champagne on their private balcony, enjoying a spectacular view of the course, and watching him now with baited breath and expectation.
Dylan turned his head to the packed crowds in the stands. The atmosphere was celebratory and jovial, except he wasn’t. A lump formed in his throat as he wondered if Flora was watching too. He pictured her in the racing yard office, hunched over the small TV. Or did she even care? Perhaps she was riding, or busy talking on the phone to an owner.
Flora was actually in front of her parents’ huge widescreen TV, barely containing herself. Her nerves were stretched to a frazzle as she watched Dylan ride to the starting stalls. For the hundredth time that day she cursed herself for not relenting and wishing him good luck before he left. Instead she had remained poker faced and given him nothing but a cold, hard glare. Now she hated herself for it and wanted more than anything to turn the clock back. With a shaking hand she turned the volume up on the remote control. Flora knew that Tobias and Megan were there supporting him, along with Seamus and his wife, but what must they be thinking of her? Choosing not to go and cheer on the very man who had so tenderly nursed her back to health a few months ago. Weighed down with guilt, she swallowed and tears started to fill her eyes. Blinking them quickly away, she leant forward to watch the race start.
Dylan’s horse was distinctive: ironically called Last Chance, he had a white streak on his muzzle. Dylan was wearing black and pink striped silks. Flora noticed the dark curls peeping out from his riding hat, which for some reason made her heart clench even more. And then they were off …
Dylan got a good start and was towards the front of the main pack of runners bunched on the inside. He was well aware of the horse directly behind him, Chequered Flag, which was the one to watch. Dylan was steering Last Chance wide, to stay out of trouble and to avoid the worst of the ground, now badly churned up from the afternoon’s racing. Chequered Flag was keeping pace just to his rear, Last Chance ahead of him by a couple of lengths. Dylan kept an even rhythm. Last Chance was performing foot-perfect, overtaking the two leading horses. He was galloping towards the finishing line when suddenly Dylan caught Chequered Flag making a move on his inside. Chequered Flag shot past, making Dylan react in a split second: go for it, now! It was an automatic reaction rather than a conscious thought.
‘Go, Dylan!’ screamed Flora at the television, jumping up and down.
Meanwhile, in the executive box, Tobias and Seamus cheered their mate on with gusto, making Megan and Tatum smile with affection.
‘Come on, Dylan!’ called Tobias, his hands clenched tightly; he and Seamus had rather a large wager on Dylan’s last race.
Then, just as Dylan was approaching the finishing line, Last Chance lost his footing, firing Dylan headfirst onto the ground. The horse untangled his limbs with a snort of indignation and shot off, leaving Dylan to curl into a ball, being kicked as he rolled beneath the hooves of the horses thundering past. The moment Dylan stopped rolling through the grass, he did the first thing he was trained to do, check for movement in his legs. Feeling them twitch he allowed himself momentarily to black out.
‘Dylan!’ screeched Flora at the telly, tears pouring down her cheeks.
‘Jesus, he’s fallen.’ Seamus gave Tobias the binoculars.
Tobias took them with a trembling hand, whilst Megan and Tatum screamed with fright. Tobias watched the medics lift Dylan onto a stretcher, then into the ambulance by the white railing. His heart was pounding in his ears as he saw he friend’s motionless body whisked urgently away. Turning sharply, he directed, ‘Tatum, you stay here with Megan for now. Seamus, we’ll go to the hospital, quickly.’
Seamus had already sat Megan down and was pouring her a drink of water. Tatum stood nearby, looking helpless with tears in her eyes.
‘Yes, of course,’ she replied. ‘You two go now, we’ll follow later.’
Seamus and Tobias rushed away to be with Dylan.
Back at her parents’ house Flora was hysterical, not knowing what to do. Her immediate reaction was to try to get to Newmarket, and quick, but how? What about the training yard, could she just leave it? No. She needed to speak to the staff. Hastily she set off there.
*
Dylan became conscious of voices. Opening his eyes fully he could see he was surrounded by white coats and concerned faces. His chest hurt, but at least he could feel his legs and move his feet.
‘Hello, Dylan. You’ve had quite a nasty fall,’ said one of the white coats.
Blinking his eyes clear, he could see the doctor was an attractive blonde with brown eyes the colour of chocolate.
‘I know,’ replied Dylan matter-of-factly, then winced when he tried to move.
‘Try to keep still, Dylan. I’m afraid you’ve broken a couple of ribs.’
‘Anything else?’
‘Most likely concussion, after the bump on the head and several cuts and bruises, but apart from that, you should be OK.’
‘Great,’ said Dylan flatly, then silently reprimanded himself. He’d got off lightly. He’d known jockeys dumped into ditches at thirty miles an hour, dragged face down through birch fences, break collarbones and even necks, never to walk again. Paralysis was the fear of all riders.
‘You’ve two visitors waiting patiently to see you,’ said the blonde doctor.
Flora? Could Flora be here? Dylan’s heart leapt, then hit rock bottom when his rational brain kicked in. Of course not. How could she have got here that fast? Tobias and Seamus, waiting like caged tigers at the hospital room door, were finally allowed to enter.
‘Dylan, how are you?’ Tobias was pale with worry. Seamus pushed back his copper fringe with an unsteady hand. Dylan was touched by their obvious concern.
‘I’ll live,’ he gave a shaky grin. Then an idea struck him, which lifted his spirits considerably. ‘Flora. I need to see Flora.’ He looked intently at Tobias, urging him to respond.
‘Don’t worry. I’ll get in contact with her.’
‘Now, Tobias. Do it now,’ pressed Dylan.
Tobias frowned and looked at Seamus, who was signalling him to go and use his phone.
‘Give her a ring, Tobias,’ he gently advised, sensing Dylan’s desperate need.
*
Outside, in the corridor, Tobias took out his mobile and scrolled through his contacts to find the training yard’s number. Hopefully, Flora would be there. On the second ring it was answered.
‘Delany’s Racing Yard,’ said a voice he recognised as Flora’s, but he could hear clearly that she’d been crying.
‘Flora, it’s Tobias—’
‘Where’s Dylan? Is he all right?’ she interrupted, hysteria setting in again.
‘Yes. He’s in the hospital. Flora, he’s asking for you.’
Thank God. Thank God. Thank God. ‘I’m coming,’ she replied immediately, sobbing uncontrollably now.
‘Not in the state you’re in, you’re not fit to drive. Listen, I’ll arrange for a car to come and pick you up.’
‘Thank you,’ Flora replied with relief.
‘Just sit tight, Flora. Everything with be OK.’
‘Thank you,’ she gulped again.
*
It was late in the evening by the time Flora arrived at the hospital. Dylan had only managed soup at dinner time, then slept solidly, in the sound knowledge that Flora was safely on her way. Tobias and Megan had booked into a local hotel for the night and arranged a room for Flora to stay in too. Seamus and Tatum had reluctantly made their way home to pick up the children.
Outside the hospital, the press was gathered in force already, desperate to catch any glimpse of celebrity visitors, or Dylan actually leaving. A short statement had been made by Dylan’s agent, Connor, informing them all that Dylan was now in a stable condition and badly needed rest.
Tobias met Flora outside the hospital gates as arranged and together they were driven through the main entrance with a flurry of flashbulbs and cameras chasing after them. Flora took a deep breath, ducking her head as a bright light suddenly blasted through the car window.
‘We’re nearly there, Flora,’ Tobias tried to sooth, knowing full well the effect all this was having on her.
At last they were ushered into the hospital. Tobias took Flora to Dylan’s room, a small, private haven tucked away from the main ward.
‘I’ll leave you alone,’ Tobias told her. ‘I’ll wait outside here.’ He pointed to a row of chairs nearby.
Flora nodded then looked through the window. Dylan was asleep. She quietly pushed the door and crept inside and immediately Dylan stirred. Flora rushed to his bedside.
‘Dylan,’ she whimpered, and swallowed hard to stop herself from crying. She clutched his hand and he curled his fingers round hers tightly.
‘Hey,’ he smiled.
‘Oh, Dylan…’ Then her shoulders started to shake with emotion.
‘Flora, don’t cry,’ he said quietly.
‘How… how are you feeling?’ she choked.
He attempted humour. ‘Well, I certainly went out with a bang, didn’t I?’
‘I’m sorry, Dylan. I’m so sorry…’
‘Listen,’ he gently interrupted, ‘it’s me that’s sorry. Sorry for hurting you, but please believe me, we weren’t an item when Samantha Tait—’
‘I know,’ she butted in, not wanting her name to be mentioned, especially not here, not now.
‘Flora, I’m lost without you. Please come back. I… I… love you.’ There, he’d said it. Three words he’d never, ever uttered to another human being. He’d stunned himself, as well as Flora. She gaped at him.
‘You’ve never said that before.’
‘More fool me. It doesn’t mean I’ve never felt it, though.’ His blue eyes twinkled, looking straight into hers. Flora swallowed, then nodded.
‘Yes, of course I’ll come home. Someone needs to look after you, don’t they?’ She attempted humour now too, making Dylan smile. He loved the fact she called his house ‘home’.
‘Come here, you,’ He gave her his most seductive look, making her melt. Leaning carefully over him, she closed her lips over his. It was the sweetest kiss they’d ever shared.
‘I love you too, Dylan Delany,’ she whispered in his ear.