before he took off to England. The bank have been writing letters to my mother ever since.â
âWhat did she sayâto the bank, I mean?â
Loopy had never discussed this with anyone before, but this Englishman seemed genuinely interested. âShe told Mr. Martin that when the hay was sold, heâd get his money.â
âAnd did he?â
âNo. He got two hundred and forty pounds. Then I fell off the trailer and hurt my leg again. The rest of the hay is still in the barn. It will keep forever as long as it under cover and kept dryâthatâs not the problem.â
âWhat is the problem then?â
âNow that my legâs nearly better, no one seems to want hay.â
âWhy is that? What causes the drop-off in demand for the hay?â
âWell, yâsee, when the fine weather comes, the cattle are left out on grass. Why would anyone pay for hay when the grass is there for free? Anyway, I canât deliver it myself. The doctor told me that if I went near a hurling field or a hay trailer, heâd have the guards on me!â
They both resumed hitting golf balls, then Linhurst stopped in midswing. âWhat about horses?â
âHow do mean, sir?â
âI mean, donât horses eat hay all the year round?â
âSome of them do alright. But not the ones around Trabane.â
Now it was Linhurstâs turn to sound perplexed. âAre Trabane horses any different from the rest of the world?â
âAh, no, thatâs not what I meant at all, sir. The horses that eat hay all year round are racing horses, show jumpers, that class of an animal. Thereâs none of those around here. The horses we have in this part of the country would only be good for foxhunting or the odd point-to-point race. That class of horse is put out on grass for most of the year, just like the cattle.â
They finished practicing and walked back to the clubhouse together.
âAre you playing in the tournament this afternoon?â
âI canât, sir. I still havenât got an official handicap, and anyway Mr. Delany says Iâm not ready yet. He says I need to sort out my short gameâthe chipping and putting part of it.â
Linhurst nodded. It made sense, he supposed, not to push the lad too far too fast, and yet ⦠Linhurst believed that the sooner Loopy got the taste for battle, the tightening of the gut that comes with the pressure of real competition, the sooner he might discover what the future held in store for him. It was one thing to hit perfect shots nine times out of ten on the practice ground but quite a different matter to reproduce them where it counted, in competition.
âAre you caddying for the schoolmaster then?â Linhurstâs tone was almost too casual for he already knew the answer.
âNo, sir. Mr. OâHara has had to go to the hospital for a checkup. He wonât be playing golf for a while, he thinks.â
âDoes that mean you are out of a jobâas his caddy, I mean?â
Loopy sounded doubtful at first. âI suppose soâ¦â He added by way of explanation, âYâsee, Mr. OâHara hasnât been well in himself this long while.â
Linhurst said nothing. It was no secret that the schoolmaster was drinking more than ever since the start of the summer vacation. Up to now the discipline of having to show up sober five mornings a week had placed a curb on his drinking. Once this restraint had been removed, heâd âclimbed straight into the whiskey bottle,â as Leo Martin had so unkindly put it. Not that Leo himself was a paragon of virtue in that regard.
âWould you caddy for me instead, starting this afternoon? And donât think you have to because of that subscription business or anything like that.â
âNothing Iâd like better, sir.â
âGood! Would two oâclock suit you?â
âThatâll be fine, sir. I go on bar