‘We’ll never be helicopter rich,’ he told her, but he knew helicopter rich wasn’t Sarah’s bag. And it meant a much more relaxed life, having him around instead of up in London during the week, and he was there for Alice – whom they both adored – and somehow it was as it should be. They both did their own thing, and agreed it had been the right thing to do when they met in the kitchen for coffee or were able to turn up as a couple to Alice’s nativity play or when they went off to the White Horse for lunch just because they could. When Ralph had worked, they had barely seen each other, and that was no way to run a marriage.
It was the horses that did for Ralph. He couldn’t help it. He was used to taking risks with money, and missed the adrenalin. Sarah knew he had a flutter every now and again, but she didn’t mind. It was important for men to have an interest, and if that meant Ralph poring over the Racing Post at breakfast and trotting off to the races with his cronies she didn’t mind – she liked the occasional trip to Cheltenham or Newbury herself if there was a decent meeting or a horse they knew running.
Until one day she came into the kitchen and saw Ralph sitting at the table. In front of him were a bottle of Laphroaig and a set of keys. With a lurch, Sarah recognised them as the keys to the gun cabinet.
‘Take them away,’ said Ralph, his voice thick with whisky.
‘What’s going on?’ Her heart was hammering as she picked them up. ‘You’re drunk.’ Ralph wasn’t the type to get drunk at eleven o’clock in the morning. Eleven o’clock at night, yes.
He rubbed his face in his hands and looked up. His eyes were bloodshot.
‘I’m sorry.’
‘You’re going to have to spell it out.’ Sarah was crisp. ‘What’s going on?’
‘I should have quit while I was ahead. I was at one point. But I couldn’t resist, could I? And I should know, better than anyone. The only one that wins is the bookie.’
Sarah sat down at the table opposite him.
‘You’ve lost money?’
He nodded.
‘Well, at least you’ve told me. We can deal with it. Can’t we?’
‘I don’t think you understand.’
Ralph put his hand on the neck of the bottle to pour another drink, but Sarah stopped him.
‘That’s not going to help. Come on. Tell me.’
‘I’ve lost the lot,’ he said.
‘What lot?’ Sarah felt fear.
‘All my money. Everything I had.’
Sarah swallowed. All his money? She had no idea how much that was. Not that Ralph would have hidden it from her, but his assets went up and down every day. Sarah had her own bank account, with her own family money, and they had a joint account for bills and housekeeping, but they didn’t really get involved in each other’s financial matters.
‘I don’t understand.’
‘It’s all on my account on the computer if you want to look at it.’ There was a bleakness in his eyes Sarah found harrowing. ‘I broke all my own rules, didn’t I? I let emotion get in the way.’
‘How much?’
He turned the laptop screen towards her. She thought she might be sick.
‘What do we do?’
He could only manage a shrug.
She tried to think. Her brain couldn’t take it in: the staggering sum, or how she could have missed what he was doing. She’d been too engrossed in Alice and Peasebrook to notice.
‘It was going to be all right.’ His voice was cracked. ‘I would have stopped.’
‘Ralph. You know better than anyone …’
‘That’s why I thought I was being clever.’
Sarah’s mind raced. It settled on the most logical conclusion.
‘You’ll have to sell the flat.’
The flat was their safety net.
He looked at her. His eyes said it all.
‘Oh God!’
She stood by him, of course she did. She still loved him, and she didn’t want to destroy their little family, or what they had together. Her support of him was unstinting: practical and no-nonsense. She made him face up to the fact he had an addiction. She cut up his credit cards, took away his laptop, made him give her access to his online bank accounts – all with his permission; she wasn’t trying to emasculate him. They needed a strategy to stop him being tempted, ever again, and if that meant she had to police him, then so be it.
And it was then she decided to make Peasebrook work for them and open it to the public. It was the best chance they had of a steady income. It would be hard work, but Sarah certainly wasn’t afraid of that. After all, Peasebrook was her life already, so it might as well be her living too.