I unsaddled, went back to the weighing-room, changed into Kate's brand new colours, and went out to see what had become of Miss Ellery-Penn.

She was leaning on the parade ring rails, looking alternately at the horses and (with too much approval, I thought) at Dane Hillman, one of the brave and charming young men I had introduced to her.

'Mr Hillman has been telling me,' said Kate, 'that that poor-looking bag of bones over there – the one with his head down by his knees and those floppy ears – is the fastest horse in the race. Am I to believe it, or is the mickey being gently taken?'

'No mickey,' I said. 'That's the best horse. Not on looks, I grant you, but he's a certainty today, in this company.'

Dane said, 'Horses who go along with their heads down like that are nearly always good jumpers. They look where they're going.'

Kate sighed. 'Horses appear to be as full of paradoxes as G. K. Chesterton. The duds look good, and good looks duds.'

'Not always,' said Dane and I together.

'I shall be glad,' said Dane, 'to give you a prolonged course in racehorse recognition, Miss Ellery-Penn.'

'I am a slow learner, Mr Hillman.'

'All the better,' said Dane, cheerfully.

'Aren't you riding today, Dane?' I asked hopefully.

'In the last two, my lad. Don't worry, I shall be able to look after Miss Ellery-Penn for you while you ride her horse.' He grinned.

'Are you a jockey too, Mr Hillman?' asked Kate in a surprised voice.

'Yes,' said Dane, and left it at that. He was the rising star of the profession, clearly heading straight to the top. Pete Gregory had first claim on him, which, apart from natural affinity, brought us together a good deal. Strangers often mistook us for each other. We were the same age, both dark, both of middle height and medium build. On horseback the difference was greater; he was a better jockey than I would ever be.

'I thought all jockeys were instantly recognizable as having come straight from Lilliput,' said Kate, 'but you two are quite a decent size.' She had to look up to both of us, although she was tall enough herself.

We laughed. I said, 'Steeplechasing jockeys are nearly all a decent size. It's easier to stick on over big fences if you have long legs to grip with.'

'All my illusions are being shattered,' said Kate.

Dane said, 'I like your new horse, Alan. He'll make a good 'chaser next year.'

'Are you riding your own horses today, too?' Kate asked Dane.

'No, I' m not. I haven't any,' said Dane. 'I'm a professional, so I'm not allowed to own racehorses.'

'A professional?' Kate's eyebrows went up. She had clearly taken in the superlative tailoring of the suit under the short camel overcoat, the pleasant voice, the gentle manners. Another illusion was being shattered, I was amused to see.

'Yes. I ride for my life,' said Dane, smiling. 'Unlike Alan, I haven't a stinking rich father. But I get paid for doing what I like best in the world. It's a very satisfactory state of affairs.'

Kate looked carefully from one to the other of us. 'Perhaps in time I shall understand what makes you want to risk your elegant necks,' she said.

'When you find out, please tell us,' said Dane. 'It's still a mystery to me.'

We wandered back to the stands and watched the third race. The poor-looking horse won in a canter by twenty lengths.

'Don't imagine that we always know what's going to win,' said Dane. 'Jockeys are bad tipsters. But that one was a cert, a dead cert.'

A dead cert. The casual, everyday racing expression jabbed in my mind like a needle. Bill Davidson's attacker had relied on Admiral's being a certainty. A dead cert. Dead-

Kate's horse was not as bad as I feared. The horse ran on into fourth place.

Kate was delighted.

'Bless Uncle George for a brainwave,' she said. 'I've never had such a happy day in my life.'

'Can't we all go and celebrate with the odd magnum?' asked Kate. Her eyes were shining with excitement.

Pete laughed. 'Wait till you have a winner, for the magnum,' he said. 'I'd like to have drunk a more modest toast to the future with you, though, but I've a runner in the next. Alan will take you, no doubt.' He looked at me sideways, very amused still at my complete surrender to the charm of Miss Ellery-Penn.

'Will you wait for me, Kate?' I asked. 'I have to go and weigh in now, because we were fourth. I'll change and be out as quickly as I can.'

'I'll come down outside the weighing room,' promised Kate, nodding.

We went round to the bar, and settled for two cups of coffee.

'Uncle George will be shattered to hear we drank to Heavens Above so non-alcoholically,' said Kate. 'Don't grain and grapes figure in your life?'

'Oh, yes, of course. But I've never got used to them at three o'clock in the afternoon. How about you?'

'Champers for breakfast is my passion,' said Kate, with smiling eyes.

I asked her then if she would spend the evening with me, but she said she could not. Aunt Deb, it appeared, was having a dinner party, and Uncle George would be agog to hear how the birthday present had got on.

'Tomorrow, then?'

Kate hesitated and looked down at her glass. 'I'm – er - I'm going out with Dane, tomorrow.'

'Blast him,' I said, exploding.

Kate positively giggled.

'Friday?' I suggested.

'That will be lovely,' said Kate.

We went up to the stands and watched Dane win the fifth race by a short head. Kate cheered him home uninhibitedly.