‘Yes,’ Ursula said.

‘Rebecca. I’m the horse lady.’

‘And you’ve met Douglas here?’

‘Douglas? Yeah, he’s been here before. He’s been around.’

Ursula looked at Arm.

‘I’m taking an interest,’ he said.

Jack was reaching towards the horse, outstretched fingers writhing in acquisitive agony, as if the animal was a toy he could pick up. The horse turned to the open field. It twitched an ear and considered the middle distance; clouds in boil about the peak of Nephin. The uncles’ farm was situated in a cloistered ruck of lowland not far from the foot of the mountain, and when he squinched his eyes Arm was convinced he could make out the buildings from here.

‘You want a go, Douglas?’ Rebecca asked.

‘Ah, I’m alright.’

‘Go on,’ Ursula said.

Arm looked from woman to woman, their faces identically resolute, deadpan. Just like that, they had allied against him.

‘Looks like my mind is made up for me,’ he muttered and got up over the gate.

Rebecca laughed and tugged the rein, bringing the horse around.

‘Okay, now, get on up on the side here… One foot in then throw yourself over. Don’t be afraid to take hold of the mane.’

‘She won’t mind?’ Arm asked.

‘You can tug the shit out of it, it’s fine,’ Rebecca said. She had a calming hand on the horse’s long jaw as Arm futzed to get on.

He toed his left foot into the stirrup on his side and stepped down until the strap went taut. He clutched a hank of horse hair and drew himself up towards the saddle, paddling air with his right leg until he’d groped it down the far side of the horse’s flank. Then Arm was solidly astraddle, and gripping the pommel he pushed himself upright in the hard leather of the seat. In the transition from ground to back the horse seemed to have grown to twice its original size.

‘Alright. I’m going to take you round, at walking pace first,’ Rebecca said. ‘I’ll guide her with the reins, you just hold steady and relax. And don’t fall off.’

‘Look, look at your daft daddy,’ Arm heard Ursula say.

Jack had his teeth sunk in the wooden fence. His eyes flicked dispassionately across the half-horse-half-daddy creature steadying itself in front of him.

Rebecca led Arm and the horse into the patchy turf of the open field. Arm was sent rocking, side to side, on the barrel of knit muscle beneath him. Then the horse began to move faster.

‘Okay we’re speeding up a bit now!’ Rebecca shouted.

Arm watched her bouncing head of curls, saw the crooked white line bisecting her crown where the part in her hair naturally opened. Then the rein was not in her hand any more. The horse’s shoulder shot passed her. Its stride opened out. Arm bounced and bounced, skewing from side to side in the saddle. He tried to get his head up. Rebecca was gone, somewhere behind him. The reins were a loop of flimsy leather flickering along the side of the horse’s straining head. Nephin Mountain hiccupped violently up and down in the air in front of him.