Arm pressed his face into the long swinging neck. He could smell the velvet mustiness of the creature’s hide, the sweetness of the pulverised grass and black earth as it cut up under the thrumming hooves. ‘Stop,’ Arm was moaning, ‘stop, stop, stop.’

He thought of Fannigan, pale as any apparition, a body riding the current to sea.

They were heading towards the fence on the far side, and it was only at the last moment that the horse banked and swung around in an arc, shooting back the way it had come. Rebecca was standing in the middle of the field, arms up and out, furiously flagging them down. The horse beelined for her and decelerated to a choppy trot.

Rebecca snatched the dangling reins and pulled the horse’s head down. This had an effect as instantaneous as putting a car into neutral. Now the animal ambled at a desultory clip, and after the burst of speed it felt to Arm as if he were floating. He was loose boned, adrenalised and softly tittering at a high, wretched pitch that sounded like it was coming from somewhere else. The bolt into the wind had driven tears from his eyes.

‘What was that move? You shot off there like the lone ranger!’ Ursula exclaimed, her hand on the back of Jack’s neck. He still had his jaws locked into the fence.

‘Fuck, sorry man,’ Rebecca said. ‘She just spooked.’

‘I didn’t do anything,’ Arm exclaimed, to both women.

‘You didn’t mean to,’ Rebecca corrected him, ‘I shouldn’t have had you up there. Normally it’s only me or the kids on her. You smell and weigh like a different species. Sorry, Douglas. Get on down.’

‘It’s alright,’ Arm said, ‘I’m fine.’

And dignified as he could, he poured the shook jelly of himself off the beast.

‘You could’ve broken your neck,’ Ursula mused brightly.

Arm winced at her, then rested his elbows on the fence and tipped his forehead onto his crossed wrists. In the little hollow comprised of his arms and head and chest he listened for his racing heart to come back down to an even keel. Arm knew if he raised either hand out flat in the air it would be shaking. A tear loosed itself from a lash and hit his cheek, running down his skin in a hot stripe.

Rebecca was somewhere behind him, near. Arm could feel her looking at him.

‘You ever get knocked out in the ring?’ she said, as if she was following exactly his thoughts and wanted to change tack.

Arm shook his head where it lay.

‘I didn’t think so,’ she said.

‘Lots of hits,’ Arm said, swabbing his eyes. ‘But I was never truly put out.’

‘I’ll get him home, if you want,’ Arm said to Ursula. ‘I’ll take him up to Supermacs for a coke and burger first.’

‘Shouldn’t be encouraging him to eat that shite,’ Ursula said.

‘Well. He’s a little boy. They like rubbish.’