Dream Valley by Cummins Paddy

Author:Cummins, Paddy [Cummins, Paddy]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, azw3, epub
Published: 2013-10-19T18:30:00+00:00

Back in the house the hot humidity was overbearing. Garry let down all the little sash windows and left the half-door open. The coffee he usually had before bed didn't appeal to him - it was too warm. Remembering the two cans of 'Bud' in the fridge he grabbed one of them, lit a cigarette, got the 'Racing Post,' and spread himself across the sofa.

It was quiet and peaceful, so silent it almost felt eerie. Reaching over to the little radio on the dresser, he switched on the local station, eased back on the sofa to the strains of Tom Jones and 'It's not unusual.'

Every hour, on the hour, the station broadcast the national news, followed by a short bulletin of local news. Normally it didn't interest Garry, passed over him without really hearing it. The last item of local news grabbed his attention. He sat up, dropped the paper on his knees, removed the cigarette from his lips.

'A woman, believed to be an elderly lady from South Kilkenny, was fatally injured in a traffic accident this afternoon on the Waterford/Kilkenny road. Her car was in collision with an articulated lorry at Clanmore, about one mile from Thomastown. She died instantly at the scene. The driver of the lorry was uninjured.'

Garry exhaled the long breath he was holding, and shook his head. He wondered who it could be? Someone from around here. Those big trucks, they were lethal, he thought angrily. They go far too fast - you've no chance with them if something happen - and they always come out best. That poor woman was probably driving along correctly, then smashed into oblivion. It's just not fair - something should be done about it.

He relaxed again, studying the race results in more detail: the owners, trainers, and the breeding of the winners. This was an important exercise. If he discovered relatives of his own horses winning, he would make notes of the 'conditions' of the races, distance, ground, weight etc. It all helped in evaluating his own horses and placing them to their best advantage.

The mobile rang. Bloody Hell! Who could this be at this hour of the night? It was Emily.

'What is it, Emily? Did you forget something?'

'No Garry, I just rang to tell you about Mrs Dilworth ... did you hear it on the radio?'

He didn't answer. He couldn't. He just sat there staring into space, speechless, mesmerised.

'Garry ... hello ... are you there?'

'Yeah, yeah Emily, I am ... I'm just so shocked ... God, this is awful ... I heard it ... I did ... never thought it would be Mrs Dilworth ... what happened?'

'Dad was coming home from Waterford, happened on it. She was driving along on her right side and all. This big truck was meeting her, coming behind a van. The van stopped suddenly, the truck couldn't stop and jack-knifed across the road and into Mrs Dilworth. Dad said they had to cut her out ... she was in bits. He said you wouldn't even know what kind of car she was driving.

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