Andy's Lad

The car wouldn’t start at all this time, just kept chugging and spluttering and then it died. Toby cursed and swore, it’s a well-known fact that swearing at a machine always makes it work.  He was going to have to give up and telephone the garage.  Today was not a day he needed to stay home he really needed to be in work, occupying his mind.

Half an hour later Jerry was loading the car onto his truck with a promise to let Toby know as soon as it was fixed.  “It won’t be cheap, but I’ll do my best mate” he said as he drove off.  Toby rang his boss to explain he would have to catch the bus so he would be late, but Dean had told him to just take the day off.  Apparently, he had quite a bit of time off due and Dean was going to make him take some.  Toby just couldn’t catch a break today.

As he sank into the sofa the picture of his father on the mantlepiece seemed to smile at him and he found himself, not for the first time, wishing his Dad were there.  His Dad would have had the car going in no time and Toby would already be in work by now.  Except he wouldn’t, not today, and that’s what made it worse. 

Every year on this day for as long as Toby could remember he had gone with his Dad to the pub for lunch then into the betting shop across the road to watch the Cheltenham Gold Cup.  Andy wasn’t a big gambler, but he loved the Cheltenham Festival and always liked a “little flutter”.  It was a ritual that Toby looked forward too so much, it was time to be with his Dad, just the two of them.  Toby didn’t care much about the horse racing but to see his Dads face light up and to spend that precious time with him had always filled Toby with so much joy. 

In the years since losing his Dad Toby hadn’t been able to watch the race each year, the memories were still too painful, too raw, even after all this time.  That small amount of time he got his Dad to himself every year was what he missed most of all.  It had been ten years, but it still seemed like only yesterday, maybe it was time he moved on, maybe he could at least go to the pub for lunch. 
The Kings Head had changed a lot since Toby had been here, it was now one of those trendy gastropubs with no character and the menu written on little blackboards.  His Dad wouldn’t have approved, but he was here now so he ordered at the bar and sat himself down in the corner by the window.  The betting shop glared at him from across the road bringing back more memories, maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea after all.  No, he had to deal with this, he needed to move on, and he couldn’t just hide away every time he saw a betting shop or a horse race, it was time to deal with his grief properly.

With lunch finished Toby already started to feel a little brighter as he wandered over the road and stared in the window of the betting shop, its glitzy adverts enticing him in to part with hard earned cash.  He had never really understood why you couldn’t see inside the betting shop through the window, maybe it was so that the people inside could hide from their spouses or maybe it was to stop the police from seeing some underhand illegal activity way back when.  Whatever the reason Toby pushed the door open and stepped into his past.  He could almost feel his Dad standing next to him as he walked over to one of the counters and picked up the list of runners in the Gold Cup.  A wave of panic swept over him and he felt a little sick, he really didn’t think he could do this, maybe it was too much too soon, he turned to walk out when something caught his eye.  The runners names were displayed on a screen on the wall and the last one on the list almost jumped out at him.  Andy’s Lad.  Maybe it was a sign, although Toby wasn’t sure he believed in fate, but it was a bit of a coincidence.  Andy had always told his son that when you pick a horse you should look at form, and the state of the ground and the weather, but sometimes he said you just have to go with your gut.
Five minutes later Toby was standing in front of one of the big screens watching the run up to the Gold Cup with a betting slip in his hand.  Five pounds to win on Andy’s Lad, it probably wouldn’t win but maybe it would be enough to help Toby move forward, it really had been too long.
The race was just about to start when Toby’s phone rang, Jerry from the garage.

“Its all fixed mate” Jerry said, “Best price I can do is £250 though, I hope that’s OK?” 
“Yes, well it will have to be I guess; I need a car for work, I’ll be over in a bit to pick it up”

Two hundred and fifty pounds, how was he going to find that?  Maybe he shouldn’t have wasted money on lunch and a horse, oh well, there’s always credit.  He turned back to the screen just in time to see the end as a horse crossed the line two lengths ahead of the rest of the field. The commentator was getting more and more excited, the winning horse came in at 50-1, such long odds for a Cheltenham winner, nothing like it had happened for years.  Toby couldn’t believe the name on the screen.  Andy’s Lad.  At fifty to one that was £250 coming Toby’s way, just enough to pay for the car repair.  Maybe it was fate, maybe it was a coincidence, just maybe Toby’s Dad was still helping from beyond the grave.  Toby looked up and smiled, Thanks Dad.