‘How marvellous.’ She was pulling silly faces at the baby, then looked up as it registered. ‘Really? That’s so kind.’ She’d hoped she might volunteer.

‘He paid me,’ Carly added quickly.

Ronnie felt her smile stiffen.

‘A tenner,’ Blair told her, which cheered her up again.

‘In that case, we’ll have to see if we can offer you something regularly.’

Carly opened her mouth then closed it again.

They all walked back together, Carly carrying her baby while Ronnie pushed the toddler in the buggy and earned a wry look from Blair. Perhaps she was overdoing fostering the young mum a little. But as well as bringing the welcome babble of small children’s laughter, Carly did have the makings of a rare, raw talent – that obsession for horses and the workaholic perfectionism, those extraordinary hands – which Ronnie knew her industry ran off, essential to her team. Lester was getting too old, and Luca never stayed anywhere long. Pax, who had possessed so much talent as a teenager, had made it clear there was no going back. Best of all, Carly was keen and cheap.

‘It’ll be lots of fun when Luca’s here,’ she promised, hoping Lester’s curmudgeonly management style hadn’t put her off helping again. ‘He’s generous to a fault and always the life and soul. This village will adore him; he even plays a fiddle.’ And all the husbands with pretty wives had better watch out, she added silently.

‘A fully loaded Celt,’ Blair glowered, grumpy once more.

‘Oh, I love the Irish!’ Carly looked pleased. ‘My friend says it’s all about the craic.’

‘My philosophy entirely.’ Ronnie cast Blair a beguiling look, then turned at the sound of a car on the drive, a small, muddy coupé trundling steadily between the poplars, familiar in its Toytown curviness, a flash of red hair visible through the side window. ‘Here they are!’

‘The Horseman cometh,’ muttered Blair in a sardonic undertone.

Ronnie ignored him, the phone call from Mack suddenly playing on a loop in her head again as though she’d just replaced the receiver. Alcoholic. Picked up a stranger and spent the night with him. She’ll lose Kes.

She grabbed Blair’s arm. ‘I need you to look after Luca.’

‘What?’ He snatched it away.

‘I have to talk to Pax. Can you make him a coffee and show him around or something? If that really is him.’ She peered closer. Pax was the one in the passenger seat, a fierce-looking bearded man driving. He was absolutely nothing like she remembered.

‘I’m not bloody showing lover boy round,’ Blair sounded insulted.

‘I’ll do it if you like,’ Carly offered, unslotting her toddler from the buggy. ‘We’ve got a few minutes.’

‘That’s the Horsemaker?’ Blair whistled incongruously as the car turned towards them.

For a moment, Ronnie took the man behind the wheel to be a stranger, her daughter white-faced and murderous alongside. Then the driver smiled, that unforgettable O’Brien weapon of mass destruction, and she felt her heart plummet. It was the only thing she recognised about him. ‘Oh Christ, what’s happened to Luca?’