She released the reins and jumped clear, as Lady Ashford gathered them up. The horse was still terrifying, but with a rider on its back it seemed rather more under control.

Maggie was breathless. She wiped her brow. She was actually sweating!

Even Lady Ashford was panting. ‘That’s the ticket,’ she said, turning the horse in a circle and looking down at Maggie from what seemed like ten feet above her. ‘I say, do you ride? I’m going to town tomorrow but when I’m back, you must come out one day. I’ve got a mare that might suit you. Quiet, not like this one. Bomb proof! Ha! Thanks, Mary, you’re a brick!’

Her Ladyship’s black boot kicked the horse’s flank, she waved her stick in the air and trotted out of the yard.

They were gone.

Maggie leaned against the rail. She was in shock. Her heart was hammering in her chest. Had that really just happened? And now – she almost laughed – she had an invitation to go riding with Lady Ashford herself. The idea of getting on a bicycle was bad enough, let alone a horse. She’d never been on either and she wasn’t about to start now.

Chapter 18

Ray jerked his head back inside the barn as Lady Ashford clattered past him on her black horse.

What a performance! It would have been comical, if Maggie hadn’t looked so pale and unsmiling, flinching every time the horse moved or came too near. But, hats off to her, she’d done it; she’d held on long enough for her Ladyship to hop aboard. He’d underestimated Maggie Corbett, that was certain. She was definitely braver than him.

He’d wanted to help the women, truly he had, but his feet had stuck to the ground as firmly as if they were glued there.

He’d been scared of horses ever since his Uncle Fred (or had it been Larry? There’d been so many uncles, he’d lost track) had hoisted him up onto the back of the milkman’s black-and-white nag.

Fred or Larry had stepped away to take a photograph with his Brownie and a sudden noise – a car backfiring or some such thing – had spooked the horse. It had set off, careering down the street, milk churns clanging like church bells, while the milkman and the uncle raced after them, like a scene from Laurel and Hardy.

Ray was shaken like dice in a cup, sliding this way and that, his arms flailing around, trying to grab the harness or mane until eventually he’d fallen off and landed with a smack on the cobbles. He’d knocked out a tooth into the bargain.

It was lucky, Ma said, as she tucked him into bed with a cocoa, that the whole cart hadn’t rolled over and crushed him.