Читать книгу Prince of Penzance - Kristen Manning - Страница 6

Prologue

Melbourne Cup Day

Tuesday, 3 November 2015 dawned cold and rough at Lady Bay Beach, Warrnambool. The waves attacked the sand, the grey skies threatened rain but didn’t deliver. It was loud but quiet. Dramatic but serene.

Anyone watching from afar would expect to see little but squawking seagulls and the watery mist rising from the waves. If it was to be a head poking out of the water it would be that of a fish, or at a certain time of year, a whale.

But with a number of flourishing racing stables nearby, Lady Bay each morning hosts a procession of majestic thoroughbreds.

It was where Prince Of Penzance began his Melbourne Cup Day. He was already hard fit; there was not much more to do than get him to Flemington. But he was fresh and keen.

Being ridden off a pony up a small section of the 3.5-kilometre beach, he stretched his legs, he relaxed. He was ready to go.

As Prince Of Penzance returned to the stables, the sun rose. It remained crisp but it was a beautiful morning. One full of promise.

The horse picked at the remains of his breakfast of which he’d eaten half at around 4am. Around him his people prepared for the biggest day of his racing career. Not that he was particularly fussed; he’d been on a float trip to the races twenty-three times before, and this day was no different.

Not a peep was heard from Prince Of Penzance on the 253-kilometre trip from Warrnambool to Flemington. So quiet is he when he travels that his strapper Maddie Raymond thinks he must be asleep.

But he knew when he had arrived. And he started to paw; he wanted to get out there. He wanted to be off and racing.