She looked down at my hand. ‘I’m sorry, Madam, we don’t sell badges here. This is a restaurant. You’ll have to go back to the ticket office.’
‘The one that’s all the way over the other side of the racecourse.’
‘Yes.’
We stared at each other.
Will’s voice broke in. ‘Louisa, let’s go.’
I felt my eyes suddenly brim with tears. ‘No,’ I said. ‘This is ridiculous. We’ve come all this way. You stay here and I’ll go and get us all Premier Area badges. And then we will have our meal.’
‘Louisa, I’m not hungry.’
‘We’ll be fine once we’ve eaten. We can watch the horses and everything. It will be fine.’
Nathan stepped forward and laid a hand on my arm. ‘Louisa, I think Will really just wants to go home.’
We were now the focus of the whole restaurant. The gaze of the diners swept over us and travelled past me to Will, where they clouded with faint pity or distaste. I felt that for him. I felt like an utter failure. I looked up at the woman, who did at least have the grace to look slightly embarrassed now that Will had actually spoken.
‘Well, thank you,’ I said to her. ‘Thanks for being so f**king accommodating.’
‘Clark –’ Will’s voice carried a warning.
‘So glad that you are so flexible. I’ll certainly recommend you to everyone I know.’
‘Louisa!’
I grabbed my bag and thrust it under my arm.
‘You’ve forgotten your little car,’ she called, as I swept through the door that Nathan held open for me.
‘Why, does that need a bloody badge too?’ I said, and followed them into the lift.
We descended in silence. I spent most of the short lift journey trying to stop my hands from shaking with rage.
When we reached the bottom concourse, Nathan murmured, ‘I think we should probably get something from one of these stalls, you know. It’s been a few hours now since we ate anything.’ He glanced down at Will, so I knew who it was he was really referring to.
‘Fine,’ I said, brightly. I took a little breath. ‘I love a bit of crackling. Let’s go to the old hog roast.’
We ordered three buns with pork, crackling and apple sauce, and sheltered under the striped awning while we ate them. I sat down on a small dustbin, so that I could be at the same level as Will, and helped him to manageable bites of meat, shredding it with my fingers where necessary. The two women who served behind the counter pretended not to look at us. I could see them monitoring Will out of the corners of their eyes, periodically muttering to each other when they thought we weren’t looking. Poor man, I could practically hear them saying. What a terrible way to live. I gave them a hard stare, daring them to look at him like that. I tried not to think too hard about what Will must be feeling.
The rain had stopped, but the windswept course felt suddenly bleak, its brown and green surface littered with discarded betting slips, its horizon flat and empty. The car park had thinned out with the rain, and in the distance we could just hear the distorted sound of the tannoy as some other race thundered past.
‘I think maybe we should head back,’ Nathan said, wiping his mouth. ‘I mean, it was nice and all, but best to miss the traffic, eh?’
‘Fine,’ I said. I screwed up my paper napkin, and threw it into the bin. Will waved away the last third of his roll.
‘Didn’t he like it?’ said the woman, as Nathan began to wheel him away across the grass.
‘I don’t know. Perhaps he would have liked it better if it hadn’t come with a side order of rubberneck,’ I said, and chucked the remnants hard into the bin.
But getting to the car and back up the ramp was easier said than done. In the few hours that we had spent at the racecourse, the arrivals and departures meant that the car park had turned into a sea of mud. Even with Nathan’s impressive might, and my best shoulder, we couldn’t get the chair even halfway across the grass to the car. His wheels skidded and whined, unable to get the purchase to make it up that last couple of inches. Mine and Nathan’s feet slithered in the mud, which worked its way up the sides of our shoes.
‘It’s not going to happen,’ said Will.
I had refused to listen to him. I couldn’t bear the idea that this was how our day was going to end.
‘I think we’re going to need some help,’ Nathan said. ‘I can’t even get the chair back on to the path. It’s stuck.’
Will let out an audible sigh. He looked about as fed up as I had ever seen him.
‘I could lift you into the front seat, Will, if I tilt it back a little. And then Louisa and I could see if we could get the chair in afterwards.’
Will’s voice emerged through gritted teeth. ‘I am not ending today with a fireman’s lift.’
‘Sorry, mate,’ Nathan said. ‘But Lou and I are not going to manage this alone. Here, Lou, you’re prettier than I am. Go and collar a few extra pairs of arms, will you?’
Will closed his eyes, set his jaw and I ran towards the stands.
I would not have believed so many people could turn down a cry for help when it involved a wheelchair stuck in mud, especially as the cry did come from a girl in a miniskirt and flashing her most endearing smile. I am not usually good with strangers, but desperation made me fearless. I walked from group to group of racegoers in the grandstand, asking if they could just spare me a few minutes’ help. They looked at me and my clothes as if I were plotting some kind of trap.
‘It’s for a man in a wheelchair,’ I said. ‘He’s a bit stuck.’
‘We’re just waiting on the next race,’ they said. Or, ‘Sorry.’ Or, ‘It’ll have to wait till after the two thirty. We have a monkey on this one.’
I even thought about collaring a jockey or two. But as I got close to the enclosure, I saw that they were even smaller than I was.
By the time I got to the parade ring I was incandescent with suppressed rage. I suspect I was snarling at people then, not smiling. And there, finally, joy of joys, were the lads in striped polo shirts. The back of their shirts referred to ‘Marky’s Last Stand’ and they clutched cans of Pilsner and Tennent’s Extra. Their accents suggested they were from somewhere in the north-east, and I was pretty sure that they had not had any significant break from alcohol for the last twenty-four hours. They cheered as I approached, and I fought the urge to give them the finger again.
‘Gissa smile, sweetheart. It’s Marky’s stag weekend,’ one slurred, slamming a ham-sized hand on to my shoulder.
‘It’s Monday.’ I tried not to flinch as I peeled it off.
‘You’re joking. Monday already?’ He reeled backwards. ‘Well, you should give him a kiss, like.’
‘Actually,’ I said. ‘I’ve come over to ask you for help.’
‘Ah’ll give you any help you need, pet.’ This was accompanied by a lascivious wink.
His mates swayed gently around him like aquatic plants.
‘No, really. I need you to help my friend. Over in the car park.’
‘Ah’m sorry, ah’m not sure ah’m in any fit state to help youse, pet.’
‘Hey up. Next race is up, Marky. You got money on this? I think I’ve got money on this.’
They turned back towards the track, already losing interest. I looked over my shoulder at the car park, seeing the hunched figure of Will, Nathan pulling vainly at the handles of his chair. I pictured myself returning home to tell Will’s parents that we had left Will’s super-expensive chair in a car park. And then I saw the tattoo.
‘He’s a soldier,’ I said, loudly. ‘Ex-soldier.’
One by one they turned round.
‘He was injured. In Iraq. All we wanted to do was get him a nice day out. But nobody will help us.’ As I spoke the words, I felt my eyes welling up with tears.
‘A vet? You’re kidding us. Where is he?’
‘In the car park. I’ve asked lots of people, but they just don’t want to help.’
It seemed to take a minute or two for them to digest what I’d said. But then they looked at each other in amazement.
‘C’mon, lads. We’re not having that.’ They swayed after me in a wayward trail. I could hear them exclaiming between themselves, muttering. ‘Bloody civvies … no idea what it’s like … ’
When we reached them, Nathan was standing by Will, whose head had sunk deep into the collar of his coat with cold, even as Nathan covered his shoulders with another blanket.
‘These very nice gentlemen have offered to help us,’ I said.
Nathan was staring at the cans of lager. I had to admit that you’d have had to look quite hard to see a suit of armour in any of them.
‘Where do youse want to get him to?’ said one.
The others stood around Will, nodding their hellos. One offered him a beer, apparently unable to grasp that Will could not pick it up.
Nathan motioned to our car. ‘Back in the car, ultimately. But to do that we need to get him over to the stand, and then reverse the car back to him.’
‘You don’t need to do that,’ said one, clapping Nathan on the back. ‘We can take him to your car, can’t we, lads?’
There was a chorus of agreement. They began to position themselves around Will’s chair.
I shifted uncomfortably. ‘I don’t know … that’s a long way for you to carry him,’ I ventured. ‘And the chair’s very heavy.’
They were howlingly drunk. Some of them could barely hang on to their cans of drink. One thrust his can of Tennent’s into my hand.
‘Don’t you worry, pet. Anything for a fellow soldier, isn’t that right, lads?’
‘We wouldn’t leave you there, mate. We never leave a man down, do we?’
I saw Nathan’s face and shook my head furiously at his quizzical expression. Will seemed unlikely to say anything. He just looked grim, and then, as the men clustered around his chair, and with a shout, hoisted it up between them, vaguely alarmed.
‘What regiment, pet?’
I tried to smile, trawling my memory for names. ‘Rifles … ’ I said. ‘Eleventh rifles.’
‘I don’t know the eleventh rifles,’ said another.
‘It’s a new regiment,’ I stuttered. ‘Top secret. Based in Iraq.’
Their trainers slid in the mud, and I felt my heart lurch. Will’s chair was hoisted several inches off the ground, like some kind of sedan. Nathan was running for Will’s bag, unlocking the car ahead of us.
‘Did those boys train over in Catterick?’
‘That’s the one,’ I said, and then changed the subject. ‘So – which one of you is getting married?’
We had exchanged numbers by the time I finally got rid of Marky and his mates. They had a whip-round, offering us almost forty pounds towards Will’s rehabilitation fund, and only stopped insisting when I told them we would be happiest if they would have a drink on us instead. I had to kiss each and every one of them. I was nearly dizzy with fumes by the time I had finished. I continued to wave at them as they disappeared back to the stand, and Nathan sounded the horn to get me into the car.
‘They were helpful, weren’t they?’ I said, brightly, as I turned the ignition.
‘The tall one dropped his entire beer down my right leg,’ said Will. ‘I smell like a brewery.’
‘I don’t believe this,’ said Nathan, as I finally pulled out towards the main entrance. ‘Look. There’s a whole disabled parking section right there, by the stand. And it’s all on tarmac.’
Will didn’t say much of anything for the rest of the day. He bid Nathan goodbye when we dropped him home, and then grew silent as I negotiated the road up to the castle, which had thinned out now the temperature had dropped again, and finally I parked up outside the annexe.