‘La próxima vez, te mataremos,’ Diego shouted, and he drew a finger across his throat in case I hadn’t understood his Spanish.
As a parting gesture he gave me a kick to the side of the head, then he and his friends laughed, turned away and walked off, leaving me curled up in the dirt.
I lay on the ground for quite a while, unable to do anything other than draw up my knees and wait for the tide of pain to ebb away.
Why people think it is funny when a cricketer or baseball player gets hit in the nuts baffles me. There’s nothing funny about it at all, especially when it has been inflicted on purpose, as in this case.
I heard someone approaching and was worried that Diego and his chums were coming back for another go.
‘Estas bien?’ said a voice from above me.
Still holding my knees, I rolled onto my back and looked up. It was Rafael and he stared down at me with deep concern in his eyes, shocked to discover that it was his roommate lying at his feet.
‘You OK, Paddy?’
I tried to smile at him. ‘Yes, OK,’ I croaked.
He held out a hand to help me up but, in spite of it still being quite early, Rafael was already the worse for wear with drink and I almost pulled him over on top of me.
Being on my feet didn’t seem to help the pain much, and I was hardly standing upright. Instead I was crouched down on my haunches.
Gradually the intense pain subsided, replaced only by a dull ache and a feeling of nausea that made my skin feel cold and sweaty.
Rafael was still concerned by my appearance.
‘You sick,’ he said, slightly slurring the words. ‘I fetch doctor. You go hospital.’
‘No,’ I replied quickly. ‘No doctor. No hospital.’ I forced myself to stand up straight, and then I smiled at him. ‘I’ll be OK now.’
Rafael didn’t look convinced by my bravado and I wasn’t entirely sure I was either. I did worry that Diego had done some real damage to my nethers, but doctors and hospital would have required such awkwardnesses as my real name and payment, neither of which I was prepared to give at the moment.
If things didn’t improve with time, then I’d seek medical help, but not yet.
Rafael and I made our slow way back to the bunkhouse, me walking delicately with my knees spread wide apart like a cowboy who’d spent too long in the saddle, and him holding on to me for support.
I went along to the shared bathroom and delicately examined my privates. Everything was very tender but at least it all appeared to be in the right place and there was no blood in my pee, which was encouraging.
‘Who do this to you?’ Rafael asked when I went back to our room.
‘I didn’t see,’ I lied.
‘You call policía.’
I shook my head. ‘No police. It would only make things complicated.’
He looked at me with a quizzical expression.
‘More bad,’ I said, and he nodded, steadying himself on the bedpost.
Rafael then lay down on his bed and went straight to sleep while I carefully climbed up onto the bunk above him.
Calling the police was not an option. For a start, it would blow my cover, but mostly it would be a waste of time. It would simply be my word against those of the Puerto Rican four who would all swear it wasn’t them and each one would give the other three an alibi.
Diego and his chums had actually been rather clever, either inadvertently or on purpose. They had used the right degree of violence to seriously hurt me, but not enough to cause any lasting harm. I didn’t think the police would be interested, and I was quite sure they wouldn’t have arrested anyone. Indeed, I was convinced that going to the police would have placed me in greater danger of receiving a repeat performance, and I had absolutely no desire for that.
No police.
I would fight my own battles, and I would choose when and where.
19
I had a restless night.
When my phone alarm went off at four, I’d already been awake for ages, and I was sore.
Even the slightest of movements sent shock waves down into my groin.
Gritting my teeth, I swung my legs over the side of the bed and lowered myself gently to the floor.
I dug into my plastic wash bag for a couple of painkillers and hoped they would work quickly. Next I walked gingerly along the corridor to the bathroom, feeling sick.
Using the cracked and tarnished mirror above the sink, I examined myself again as best I could. There was a slight darkening of the skin due to bruising but no major swelling and my pee was still clear of any blood.
I decided that I’d live.
In an ideal world I would have lain still on my bed for a day or two to allow the bruising to come out and for recovery to start. But I wasn’t currently living in an ideal world. I had to get to work, not least because I wasn’t prepared to give Diego the satisfaction of seeing that I was off sick.
As it was, I managed to get myself dressed and over to the barn by half past four. Not for the first time, I was glad that Raworth’s grooms didn’t have to ride the horses. That would have been a step too far for the throbbing orbs between my legs.
I readied my four horses for exercise and spent the entire morning moving slowly round with my knees slightly spread apart. Two more painkillers helped and, gradually, things started to return to normal.
I came upon Diego as we were both collecting feed from the store. He said nothing. Instead he repeated his finger-across-the-throat gesture. I just smiled at him but that made him angry and he tipped the feed bowl I was carrying out of my hands and into the dirt.
I sighed.
I could do without this difficulty. It wasn’t that I’d even made a hit on Maria; it was all the other way around.
I did my best to avoid her but she spent most of the morning walking hot horses round and round the shedrow, passing by the stalls where I was working every couple of minutes.
Finally, after I had ignored her for almost two hours, she came in.
‘What wrong with you today?’ she demanded, standing full square in the middle of Paddleboat’s stall.
‘Nothing,’ I said, not turning round and continuing to lay the straw bed for the horse.
‘I watching you,’ she said. ‘You move like Chuck.’
Chuck was the yard boy, eighty years old if he was a day, permanently shaking, and only kept moderately upright by his broom. The way I felt right now, I wouldn’t want to pick a fight with him — he’d have won easily.
‘I caught myself on the bedpost,’ I said, still not turning to face her. ‘I’ll be fine in a couple of days.’
‘You want me apply ice?’ she asked with a laugh.
‘No,’ I said. ‘I do not.’
But I couldn’t help smiling.
I spent the afternoon lying on my bed, alone, for more thinking.
I needed to move things on and, in order to do that, I needed to have a look in Raworth’s drug store, and also in the barn office.
But that was easier said than done.
Even though most of the grooms were off duty from about midday until four in the afternoon, the barn was never totally free of humans.
When he wasn’t actively engaged in looking after Fire Point, Keith spent most of the afternoons in the office, often watching the live racing on a television connected to the racetrack system. Every hour or so he would do a circuit of the barn, looking briefly into each stall to ensure that the equine resident wasn’t stuck down or suffering from colic.
And then there were always the day’s runners going back and forth from the track, led by one of the grooms or a hot-walker.
The barn was never deserted.