The crowd of 25,000 rose and sang loyally out of tune.
‘We should have someone like that in America,’ said Harvey to Stephen, ‘to take the place of Richard Nixon. We wouldn’t have any Watergate problems then.’
Stephen thought his fellow American was being just a little unfair. Richard Nixon was almost a saint by Harvey Metcalfe’s standards.
‘Come and join me in my box, Professor, and meet my other guests. The damned box cost me £750, we may as well fill it. Have you had some lunch?’
‘Yes, I’ve had an excellent lunch, thank you,’ Stephen lied — something else Harvey had taught him. He had stood by the Members’ Enclosure for an hour, nervous and pensive, unable even to manage a sandwich, and now he was starving.
‘Well, come and enjoy the champagne,’ roared Harvey.
On an empty stomach, thought Stephen.
‘Thank you, Mr Metcalfe. I am a little lost. This is my first Royal Ascot.’
‘This isn’t Royal Ascot, Professor. It’s the last day of Ascot Week, but the Royal Family always comes to see the King George and Elizabeth Stakes, so everybody dresses up.’
‘I see,’ said Stephen timidly, pleased with his deliberate error.
Harvey collared his find and took him back to the box.
‘Everybody, I want you to meet my distinguished friend, Rodney Porter. He’s a Nobel Prize Winner, you know. By the way, what’s your subject, Rod?’
‘Biochemistry.’
Stephen was getting the measure of Harvey. As long as he played it straight, the bankers and shippers, and even the journalists, would never doubt that he was the cleverest thing since Einstein. He relaxed a little and even found time to fill himself with smoked salmon sandwiches when the others were not looking.
Lester Piggott won the 2 o’clock on Olympic Casino and the 2.30 on Roussalka, achieving his 3,000th win. Harvey was getting steadily more nervous. He talked incessantly without making much sense. He had sat through the 2.30 without showing any interest in the result and consumed more and more champagne. At 2.50 he called for them all to join him in the Members’ Enclosure to look at his famous filly. Stephen, like the others, trailed behind him in a little pseudo-royal entourage.
Jean-Pierre and James watched the procession from a distance.
‘He’s too deep in to climb out now,’ said Jean-Pierre.
‘He looks relaxed enough to me,’ replied James. ‘Let’s make ourselves scarce. We can only get under his feet.’
They headed into the champagne bar, which was filled with red-faced men who looked as if they spent more time drinking than they did watching the racing.
‘Isn’t she beautiful, Professor? Almost as beautiful as my daughter. If she doesn’t win today I don’t think I’m ever going to make it.’
Harvey left his little clique to have a word with the jockey, Pat Eddery, to wish him luck. Peter Walwyn, the trainer, was giving final instructions before the jockey mounted and left the Enclosure. The ten horses were then paraded in front of the stand before the race, a custom only carried out at Ascot for the King George VI and Queen Elizabeth Stakes. The gold, purple and scarlet colors of Her Majesty The Queen’s horse Highclere led the procession, followed by Crown Princess, who was giving Lester Piggott a little trouble. Directly behind her came Rosalie, looking very relaxed, fresh and ready to go. Buoy and Dankaro trotted behind Rosalie, with the outsiders Mesopotamia, Ropey and Minnow bringing up the rear. The crowd rose to cheer the horses and Harvey beamed with pride, as if he owned every horse in the race.
‘...and I have with me today the distinguished American owner, Harvey Metcalfe,’ said Julian Wilson into the BBC TV outside-broadcast camera. ‘I’m going to ask him if he’d be kind enough to give me his views on the King George VI and Queen Elizabeth Stakes, for which he has the joint favorite, Rosalie. Welcome to England, Mr Metcalfe. How do you feel about the big race?’
‘It’s a thrill to be here, just to participate in the race once again. Rosalie’s got a great chance. Still, it’s not winning that matters. It’s taking part.’
Stephen flinched. Baron de Coubertin, who had first made that remark when opening the 1896 Olympics, must have turned in his grave.
‘The latest betting shows Rosalie to be the joint favorite with Her Majesty The Queen’s Horse, Highclere. How do you feel about that?’
‘I’m just as worried about the Duke of Devonshire’s Crown Princess. Lester Piggott is always hard to beat on a great occasion. He won the first two races and he’ll be all set for this one — Crown Princess is a fine little filly.’
‘Is a mile and a half a good distance for Rosalie?’
‘Results this season show it’s definitely her best distance.’
‘What will you do with the £81,240 prize money?’
‘The money is not important, it hasn’t even entered my mind.’
It had certainly entered Stephen’s mind.
‘Thank you, Mr Metcalfe, and the best of luck. And now over for the latest news of the betting.’
Harvey moved back to his group of admirers and suggested that they return to watch the race from the balcony just outside his box.
Stephen was fascinated to observe Harvey at such close quarters. He had become nervous and even more mendacious than usual under pressure — not at all the icy, cool operator they had all feared him to be. This man was human, susceptible and could be beaten.
They all leaned over the rails watching the horses being put into the stalls. Crown Princess was still giving a little trouble while all the others waited. The tension was becoming unbearable.
‘They’re off,’ boomed the loudspeaker.
As twenty-five thousand people raised glasses to their eyes, Harvey said, ‘She’s got a good start — she’s well placed,’ continuing to give everybody a running commentary until the last mile, when he became silent. The others also waited in silence, intent on the loudspeaker.
‘They’re into the straight mile — Minnow leads the field around the bend — with Buoy and Dankaro, looking relaxed, just tucked in behind him — followed by Crown Princess, Rosalie and Highclere...
‘As they approach the six-furlong marker — Rosalie and Crown Princess come up on the stand side with Highclere making a bid...
‘Five furlongs to go — Minnow still sets the pace, but is beginning to tire as Crown Princess and Buoy make up ground...
‘Half a mile to go — Minnow still just ahead of Buoy, who has moved up into second place, perhaps making her move too early...
‘Three furlongs from home — they’re quickening up just a little — Minnow sets the pace on the rails — Buoy and Dankaro are now about a length behind — followed by Rosalie, Lester Piggott on Crown Princess and the Queen’s filly Highclere all making ground...
‘Inside the two-furlong marker — Highclere and Rosalie move up to challenge Buoy — Crown Princess is right out of it now...
‘A furlong to go...’
The commentator’s voice rose in pitch and volume.
‘It’s Joe Mercer riding Highclere who hits the front, just ahead of Pat Eddery on Rosalie — two hundred yards to go — they’re neck and neck — one hundred yards to go — it’s anybody’s race and on the line it’s a photo finish between the gold, purple and scarlet colors of Her Majesty the Queen and the black-and-green check colors of the American owner, Harvey Metcalfe — M. Moussac’s Dankaro was third.’
Harvey stood paralyzed, waiting for the result. Even Stephen felt a little sympathy for him. None of Harvey’s guests dared to speak for fear they might be wrong.
‘The result of The King George VI and The Queen Elizabeth Stakes.’ Once again the loudspeaker boomed out and silence fell over the whole course:
‘The winner is No. 5, Rosalie.’
The rest of the result was lost in the roar of the crowd and the bellow of triumph from Harvey. Pursued by his guests, he raced to the nearest lift, pressed a pound note into the lift-girl’s hand and shouted, ‘Get this thing moving.’ Only half of his guests managed to jump in with him. Stephen was among them. Once they reached the ground floor, the lift gates opened and Harvey came out like a thoroughbred, past the champagne bar, through the rear of the Members’ Enclosure into the Winners’ Enclosure, and flung his arms around the horse’s neck, almost unseating the jockey. A few minutes later he triumphantly led Rosalie to the little white post marked ‘FIRST.’ The crowd thronged around him, offering their congratulations.