Beck was already up on his hind legs, slamming back down and trying to pull the reins out of Luca’s hands as he plunged sideways, head shaking.

‘Put him behind me!’ Ronnie rode off the track to make space for the galloping lunatics.

But Beck had no intention of letting them pass. Whinnying again, he lunged forwards.

Luca knew in an instant that all communication had gone, sitting through a twisting, turning series of explosive bucks. He might as well be on a tiger’s back.

With another screaming bellow, Beck reared up again, striking out at the approaching horses in warning as he did so. The woman on the bolting grey let out a shriek and both pony and rider disappeared into the trees.

The bay pulled up sharply ten metres away.

The chestnut mare at the rear had other ideas. Letting out a squeal of recognition, she tossed her head and flattened her ears indignantly. Moments later, she was throwing her own series of twisting bronco disco moves that deposited her rider on the track.

‘I’m fine!’ the woman gasped and sprang up with a nervous laugh.

Pitching himself against the stallion’s neck as he reared again, Luca fought for balance. The chestnut mare was still trotting towards them, ears flat back, furious at such a machismo display.

‘Get that horse caught!’ Luca shouted, startled by her behaviour, the kamikaze bravery of a pissed-off alpha mare. Her owner was equally foolhardy, running in pursuit, face beaming.

‘Don’t worry,’ she shouted cheerily at Luca. ‘They’ve already shagged.’

But as the mare drew closer, skipping this way and that, the whites of her eyes glinted with malice and her rear end pivoted around ready to deliver a sharp reminder of girl power.

Luca hauled Beck away just in time to miss two hard-rammed, metal-rimmed hind hooves punching through the air towards them.

At this, the stallion landed back on all fours and every one of his vertebra seemed flex and click like knuckles as his back bunched up and his head flew down.

‘Oh shit!’ Luca could guess what was about to happen.

11

Bridge had parted company with Craic whilst travelling at speed, thanks to a low tree branch swiping her into a holly bush like a golf ball into the rough. The pain was up there with the third hour of labour, and she was mortally offended the little sod didn’t wait for her, tanking back off instead in the direction of his cob friend who was still trotting through the trees to catch up with them.

As she scrabbled out of the bush, her skin ribboned with cuts, Bridge heard Petra scream further along the track.

Limping to her aid and battling through the veil of skeletal tree branches, she could just make out the big grey horse Luca O’Brien was riding going bananas.

‘Holy feck!’ She stumbled closer. Scrambling out on the track, she found herself near Gill on her high horse.

‘That is why I said we go the opposite way.’ Gill was frozen with disapproval.