What was the reason for the fallout with Sheikh Mo again?
This week Henry Cecil, 52, the town's rakish local landowner with a penchant for Gucci loafers, discovered what happens when you - or rather your young wife - dare to criticise Sheikh Mohammed of Dubai, the world's leading racehorse owner, his major customer and a man without whom, it is said, the British racing industry would collapse.
Mrs Cecil recently said that her husband was frustrated by trading practices introduced by the Sheikh. First Sheikh Mohammed organised an unprecedented press conference at Ascot two weeks ago to give Cecil a humiliating public dressing-down and to make a thinly veiled attack on his wife Natalie, 28, suggesting that she was interfering and unqualified. Then on Tuesday this week he announced he was withdrawing 40 horses from Cecil's care: within 24 hours he had his boxes in Cecil's back yard loading up his priceless steeds - with all their champion and race-prize promise and pounds 300 keep each a week. The Sheikh claimed Cecil had not informed him about a knee injury to prize colt Mark of Esteem.
Cecil has instructed his 60-strong staff not to speak to journalists about the very public fall-out or the alleged problems at the yard, although he has expressed some relief that his increasingly difficult dealings with the Sheikh are over. But in the tiny one-horse town everyone is talking - off the record of course - about the severing of the 14-year partnership, one of the most successful owner-trainer relationships in the history of horse racing. It's easy to understand the interest shown in the town's numerous bars. The main players have been around for a long time and are contained in an area as tight as a TV soap set.
Cecil lives at the top of Warren Hill, half a mile from Newmarket's only main street, with Natalie his second wife, 22 years his junior. Their pad is Warren Place, his first wife Julie's magnificent childhood home. When he is in town, the Sheikh lives in palatial style just next door. He built his residence in happier times and is only separated from his former favourite trainer by the stable lads' less salubrious digs. Julie now lives on the other side of town. She runs her own yard and like most Newmarket trainers numbers the Sheikh among her customers.
The Sheikh's veiled criticism has revived old resentments in the town about Henry Cecil's divorce of Julie to marry Natalie. When he suggested that Cecil was no longer surrounding himself with the best people, the Sheikh said there wasn't a person in Newmarket who would not know to whom he was referring, and indeed that seems the case.
"When Henry and Julie parted, it split this town in two," says one local woman. "She was the local girl and Natalie was the outsider who caused havoc. Within no time she was throwing her weight around."
Natalie's spat with the Sheikh - and the threat of subsequent redundancies in Newmarket - have not endeared her to those with whom she was already unpopular. "She's so high-handed," insists a stable-hand from another yard, though she admits she has never met the second Mrs Cecil. "Yet she was just a stable girl. She was mucking out when Henry met her. Plenty of people blame her for this latest trouble."
A 1990 divorce marked the parting of two of the country's foremost racing families and for some the end of a golden age. Henry's mentor and stepfather was Sir Cecil Boyd-Rochfort, one-time trainer to the Queen; Julie, to whom he was married for 23 years, was the daughter of Sir Noel Murless, one of the greatest trainers of his time.
Their split is now the stuff of local legend. Henry, everyone will tell you, met Natalie at a local dance, took her to the races in Kentucky and then told his wife he was in love. Julie apparently responded by locking the gates to their pounds 4m estate, leaving him a suitcase of clothes on the road outside. When Julie Cecil went, some of her husband's most senior staff went too, along with a few of his customers. Many employees clearly took some time to adjust to Warren Place's new mistress. Julie's supporters say her loss to the business is now truly coming home to roost.
While some vent their spleen on Mrs Cecil, who has her husband's sole support, the lads' concern is for their jobs. The care of horses is labour- intensive; one human to two or three horses, and at least 15 jobs are forecast to go. Yesterday Cecil, who was in Ireland when the Sheikh made his surprise announcement, met his staff to try to reassure them. The night before in the Bull, a local bar, they were putting on a brave face. "Henry's a good employer and he's promised there won't be any immediate sackings," said one member of a rival yard.
But behind the saga lie deeper concerns and forecasts of much bigger and more widespread job losses. Natalie Cecil, her defenders say, simply voiced in public what many privately know: her only crime was to complain that her husband, like other trainers, is upset by the Sheikh's new "Godolphin" training operation. This is the programme by which the Sheikh ships his most promising two-year-olds back to Dubai for winter. After a few months of air-conditioned boxes, hoof-friendly sand, specially prepared food and the attention of top-class riders in the Sheikh's new purpose-built racing centres, they seldom return to their original trainers. To lose horses on the brink of success has caused great frustration to the Sheikh's British trainers.
For Natalie's defenders, the villain of the piece is the Sheikh, and any arrogance or uppityness is his. They say the second Mrs Cecil is a victim of small-town jealousies and insularity. "The Sheikh has shown his true colours," says one. "He's essentially an autocrat. He's not used to being questioned, particularly by a woman."
There are already predictions that the switch of focus from Britain to the United Arab Emirates may eventually render Newmarket a ghost town. The Sheikh and other members of the oil-rich Maktoum family are said to be developing Dubai as a leisure paradise, as an economic safeguard for when the oil runs out. In their investment in two state-of-the-art racecourses in Dubai and luxury facilities there is some poetic justice. They are, in many ways, reclaiming what was theirs. Three centuries ago, the Arabian horse became the progenitor of the thoroughbred. Godolphin was the name of the famous 18th-century stallion.
Yesterday, Ian Carnaby, columnist for Sporting Life, seemed to suggest that local sniping at Mrs Cecil clouded the real issue and warned that the Maktoums' "stranglehold" on British racing ought to be the greatest cause for concern. The Sheikh has spent millions on bloodstock and land around Newmarket and other racing centres. Often, he and his two brothers own up to five out of six runners in top-class races. The true significance of the split between Cecil and the Sheikh, Carnaby suggested, is that British racing must now realise that the man upon whose largesse it relies is not some benign benefactor.
"The Godolphin training has harmed us all in Newmarket," says one young worker - like most, too worried she might lose her job if she gave her name. "We all worry what this will mean for employment here in the long run."
Those still focused on the local scene would have been interested to see Cecil and his first wife meet yesterday morning while out exercising their horses. They bumped into each other on Warren Hill in the shadow of their former home. Many would have liked to have heard the conversation: there has been no end of speculation about what wife number one might now say to her former husband.
"It's all very civilised now," says an insider. "Julie would never say anything publicly. She always keeps her counsel. She will probably feel sorry for Henry, but there would surely be some satisfaction if the Sheikh passed on to her some of his horses."
It is a plotline of which the makers of Newmarket, the soap would approve