“I thought you were the VAT man or a rapist. “Six,” said Jake, walking towards the tackroom, praying she’d follow him. Twenty riders went through. “Send her to Coventry,” said Janey.
The show-jumping correspondent, jealous of her pitch being queered by Janey, had sneaked to the sports editor about unnecessary extravagance. Outside, the lorry was waiting, already filled with petrol, water and human and equine supplies. Hilary could look after Marcus. Suddenly there was a commotion in the corridor.
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