Story 29/1001

• audience
• chicken
• jockey

Sarah Williams loved horse races. It wasn’t about horses or races for her. It was about socializing, finding out who did what with the pool boy; who wore something old; who came with someone new.

All of those things, and more, were important. Pool boys who are good at keeping secrets are hard to find; wearing old clothes on a horse race meant only that your husband’s business is bankrupt; and coming with someone new is just a way to grab attention. And the only reason you would have for grabbing attention in such a way, is if you have something more interesting to hide.

And Sarah loved secrets.

She wore a new, pale blue dress, with a matching hat. The hat had one yellow flower and one white, which matched her carefully chosen gloves and purse. She smiled at her reflection and called for her housekeeper.

It was time to leave. You wouldn’t want to be late, but being too early is a crime of its own.

Sarah saw the racecourses and smiled, nodding to her driver. He stopped near the entrance and swiftly got out to open the door. She gave him a light smile.

The first person she saw was Mrs. Smith, in company of someone new. A petite young woman, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt.

“Mrs. Smith, how have you been?” Sarah said, exchanging a few air kisses with Mrs. Smith.

“Dear Mrs. Williams!” Mrs. Smith exclaimed. “How have you been? This is your first year without our dear Mr. Williams. This must be hard on you.” Sarah smiled lightly, and shook her head. She knew everyone would ask this, but instead of using it like a shield, she will use it as a weapon.

“It’s been a challenge, yes. But, nothing I can’t handle. You’ve been coming here all alone for years now, while your husband is busy with work. We lone gals must stick together.” Sarah smiled at her victory.

“Have you tried the chicken?” The petite girl interrupted. Sarah frowned.

She can’t be older than nineteen, but her manners are none existent. Sarah saw her rolling her eyes a minute before this, too. But she was kind, seeing how she obviously does not belong here.

“Mrs. Williams, allow me to introduce my niece, Petra.” Mrs. Smith pushed Petra lightly, and she extended her hand. “Petra Smith. This is really good.”

“It is tofu.” Sarah said.

“What?”

“This is not chicken, but tofu.” Sarah repeated, with the same smile on her face she always uses when dealing with ill-mannered people. One that screams ‘I’m better than you’.

“Good for you, Mrs. Williams. You know many things.”

“Mrs. Smith, Mrs. Williams. So good to see you here.” Said a male voice, one that could only belong to Mr. Harrolds.

“Wonderful to see you here, Mr. Harrolds.” Mrs. Smith pushed to greet him first.” I wanted to discuss something with you. Might I have a minute?”

Mrs. Smith seemed apologetic, but Sarah knew better. Still, she was smarter and better than Eliza Smith. Sarah will not push and beg to be the center of attention. Sarah just waved at them and turned her attention to Petra. Mrs. Smith can take the leftovers, as Sarah liked calling an eternal bachelor – one like Mr. Harrold is.

“Sorry you’re left with me. With all this posh ladies, I am not much of a catch.” Petra said.

“That’s where you are wrong, Petra. You are the most interesting one here.” Sarah said, surprising herself with her honesty.

“You only say that because I’m not dressed like you. You probably see me as a monkey in a zoo.” She scoffed.

For a moment, Sarah wanted to hug her. She never felt like her, she was born in a wealthy family, in a noble family. She always minded her manners. She could never eat tofu with her fingers.

Sarah’s eyes widened. For the first time, she was alone. No husband, her two children are all grown up and have little interest in their old mother. She doesn’t need to obey all the rules anymore.

“Petra means ‘resilient’, ‘unshakable’, ‘rock’.” Sarah said. Petra looked at her, as if she was waiting for the punchline. “For a girl with such a strong name, you have a small figure.”

“You almost had me. I thought you would give me a compliment, Mrs. Williams.”

“I am. A compliment, and an advice. Allow only your figure to be small, not your mind. Your mind should be strong and unshakable, like your name.”

Petra looked down.

“You are a Smith, but you know none of the customs, and your manners are – well, you need practice. That could mean only one thing.” Petra gasped. “You are the daughter of his youngest brother, aren’t you? The one they kicked out of the will?”

Petra frowned, her face turning red.

“Do you know what it means, for Mrs. Smith to bring you here?” Petra shook her head.

“It means they took you under their wing. I advise you to find an outlet – maybe become a jockey?”

“What.”

“The amount of studying you will have to go through; you will need something to keep you sane. If you don’t want to ride horses, any sport will do. It is just my humble opinion that you would be an amazing rider.”

Petra listened to the old woman in front of her. She couldn’t discern whether she was making fun of her, or feeling sorry for her – but she knew she didn’t like either.

Sarah was thrilled. This conversation made her feel ten years younger. Because of that, she pulled out her phone and looked at Petra.

“Give me your phone number. I have three horses in need of a young rider, and a few acres of land, just waiting to be explored again.”

Petra was dumbfounded. As she gave her number to the old woman in a funny pale blue hat, the audience clapped in unison for the jockeys and their horses.