‘And now they’ve only got eight fences to jump,’ said the commentator. ‘And it’s still Snow Moss from Acceptance, then Lazy Lucy and Tragedy Queen. Python is going very well and making ground all the time. Now they’re coming up to the seventh from home and it’s still Acceptance and Snow Moss. But Acceptance jumped that crooked and someone’s down. I can’t see exactly who it is. . yes, it’s Python! Python’s down, I’m afraid.’

The crowd gave a groan. Harriet felt an agonizing pain shoot through her. But she was only conscious of fear — that Cory might be hurt, badly hurt.

Chattie started to cry.

‘He’ll be all right,’ said Harriet in a shaking voice.

The microphone crackled. ‘I’m sorry,’ said the commentator. ‘I made a mistake. It wasn’t Python, it was Lazy Lucy who fell at the last fence — they’ve got similar colours. Python’s there and still making ground.’

Tears pricked Harriet’s eyes. Relief streamed over her.

As if in a dream, she watched Cory’s figure crouched over the little black mare, coaxing her, urging her on. Slowly the distance between him and the leaders shortened. Only one more fence to go, and then Snow Moss had fallen, and it was only a tiring Acceptance between Cory and victory.

‘Come on,’ shrieked Harriet. And now Python was drawing level. For a split second, it looked as though Acceptance was going to hold on, then Python drew ahead by a nose as they passed the post.

How Harriet and Chattie hugged each other!

‘I’ve won 50p,’ screamed Chattie.

Everyone cheered as Cory rode in. For once, a broad grin was spread across the impassive features, as he patted the sweating mare.

‘Oh, clever, clever Daddy!’ screeched Chattie.

Cory’s eyes met Harriet’s. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘we did it.’

He dismounted and then, Harriet never remembered afterwards how it happened, a golden figure smothered in furs suddenly pushed her way through the crowd, and flung her arms round Cory’s neck. It was Noel.

‘Oh, darling, darling,’ she cried. ‘I’m so proud of you.’

‘Mummy! Whatever are you doing here?’ said Chattie.

‘I’m not going to marry Ronnie,’ cried Noel. ‘I’ve come back, back to Daddy. We’re all going to be one happy family again.’

Suddenly the paddock seemed to be full of photographers.

‘This is the most wonderful day of my life,’ said Noel, smiling at them radiantly.

Cory’s face was quite expressionless.

In a daze, Harriet watched Chattie pulling at Noel’s coat.

‘Mummy, Mummy! Did you bring me a present?’

‘Yes, of course I did, darling.’ She turned round to Harriet with a mocking smile on her beautiful face. ‘I even brought a little cadeau for Harriet.’

Harriet looked round and gave a gasp. She hadn’t noticed the slender, elegant figure in the black fur coat and dark glasses.

‘Hullo, Harriet, darling,’ said Simon.

‘Simon! Oh, my God,’ whispered Harriet. ‘What are you doing here?’ Her hand flew to her cheek. Then Chattie gave a shriek. ‘Look at Harriet! She’s hurt herself.’

Looking down, Harriet realized that blood was pouring from her hand. Then the horrified faces in front of her started going round and round, and she lost consciousness.

Darkness, sickness, throbbing pain engulfed her. The sound of different voices drummed in her ears.

A wail from Chattie: ‘She’s not dying, is she?’

Noel’s voice, steel-tipped with irritation: ‘Of course not, she’s only fainted.’

Cory’s voice like gravel, harsh with anxiety: ‘Get back all of you! Can’t you see she needs more air?’

Another voice, tender, caressing, languid. Could it really be Simon’s?

‘Everything’s going to be all right, darling, I’m with you now.’

Then great whirling clouds of darkness coming down again, then slowly clearing and, suddenly, she opened her eyes and saw a face looking down at her, pale against the sable coat, a face she was only used to seeing in dreams, or disappearing in nightmares.

‘Oh, Simon,’ she croaked weakly, ‘is it really you?’

‘Hullo, baby. Yes, it’s me, but you mustn’t try to talk.’

‘I’m not dreaming, am I?’

He smiled, but there were tears in his eyes ‘Not dreaming. Feel.’ He touched her cheek with his hand but, as she turned her head to kiss it, he said, ‘Lie still.’

‘Where am I?’

‘In a draughty ambulance. A bossy old fag’s been bandaging up your hand. You cut it breaking the glass on Cory’s watch in your pocket. Must have been the shock of seeing me. Flattering, I suppose, that I still have that effect on you.’

That wasn’t quite right, but Harriet was too dazed to work out why.

‘Where’s Cory? And the children and everyone?’

‘Stop worrying about other people,’ he said soothingly.

‘Oh, Simon, you do look lovely,’ she sighed.

It was exactly the right thing to have said. He smiled and dipped a lavender silk handkerchief in a mug of water beside her, and gently began to sponge the blood from the side of her face.

‘When you’re feeling up to it, I’m going to drive you to the hospital to have some stitches put in your hand.’

Harriet watched him light a cigarette and insert it carefully in a dark blue cigarette holder.

‘Simon, Noel didn’t force you to come up here?’

He looked mortified. ‘Oh, darling! Do you think I’m that much of a bastard? Borzoi and I broke up just after I saw you last. I’ve been trying to trace you ever since. No-one knew where you were — your old boss, your landlady, even your parents. I didn’t know a thing about the baby until Noel rang me this morning. I was completely poleaxed — half knocked out at finding you, half horror at what you’d been through.’

He took her hands. ‘From now on I’m going to make the decisions, and I’m never going to let you go again.’

At that moment, Cory came into the ambulance, and Harriet was furious to find herself snatching her hands away. He was wearing a battered sheepskin coat over his pink and grey silk shirt, and had to stoop in order to avoid banging his head.

‘Hullo, how are you?’ How austere it sounded, after Simon’s gushing tenderness.

She struggled to sit up. ‘I’m all right. I’m sorry about your watch.’

‘Doesn’t matter at all, you only smashed the glass.’

‘I’m so pleased you w-won the race.’

He smiled briefly. ‘Bloody good, wasn’t it? When you’re feeling stronger, I’ll run you over to the hospital.’

‘I’m taking her to the hospital,’ said Simon in his languid voice, tipping ash from his cigarette on to the floor just by Cory’s feet. The gesture was curiously insolent. ‘And then I thought we’d drive back to your place. I’m quite anxious to see my son.’

Then Noel came into the ambulance. ‘I’m giving Harriet the weekend off, Cory,’ she said. ‘It won’t do Mrs Bottomley any harm to do some work for a change. She can easily take care of the children and William.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous!’ snapped Cory. ‘Harriet’s lost a lot of blood. She’s going stright home to bed after she’s been to hospital.’

‘Cory,’ said Noel patiently, ‘these children haven’t seen each other for absolutely ages. They ought to be on their own together.’

‘Rubbish,’ said Cory brusquely. ‘They’ve got nothing to say to each other. It was all over years ago.’

Harriet took no pleasure that these people were fighting over her. She felt a bit like a hostess with no drink in the house, invaded by a crowd of people. The mixture of heavy scent, antiseptic and French cigarettes was making her dizzy. Noel’s cold yellow eyes were boring into her.

‘I think I’d better go with Simon,’ she said.

Harriet only remembered isolated incidents about the rest of the day. ‘I’ve booked in at a hotel down the valley,’ Simon said as he drove her back from the hospital. He put his hand on her thigh. ‘I hadn’t realized how much I’d want you. I’ve never met anyone who took to sex like you did.’

Harriet felt overwhelmed by a great weariness. She was in no mood for a sexual marathon.

Neither was Simon’s meeting with William the success she had hoped. William, woken from sleep, was red-faced and bad-tempered. Simon, after initial cooings and ravings, had no idea what to do with him. Holding him at arm’s length, like a bomb about to explode, fearful he might be sick over the beautiful fur coat, he handed him back to Harriet almost immediately.

She had fantasized about them meeting for so long, the joy, the incredulity, it was bound to be an anticlimax. Simon couldn’t be expected to be as good with babies as Cory.

She tried to shake off her depression as she threw clothes into a small suitcase, but she was gripped with the same feeling of menace she’d always had when packing to go back to school. She felt rather ashamed that she put in three novels she wanted to read and the remains of the sleeping pills Cory had made her get from the doctor. Sevenoaks and Tadpole sat around looking miserable at the sight of suitcases.

‘I’ll see you both tomorrow,’ she said hopefully.

Just as she was combing her hair in front of the mirror, Cory walked in without knocking.

‘You’re mad to go off with Simon,’ he said harshly, speaking directly to her haggard reflection. ‘He’s a spoilt, corrupt little boy with no guts and no backbone. He’s ditched you once, he’ll ditch you again.’

Harriet put her head in her hands.

‘Don’t bully me,’ she said in real anguish. ‘I’m in such a muddle.’

‘I’m sorry,’ he said in a much gentler voice, putting his hands on her shoulders. ‘But just because he’s William’s father, you mustn’t feel you ought to marry him.’