‘She’s got her head screwed on, that one, which is why her wee lad’s trying the school tomorrow. Honest to God, but it’s a little gem, so it is. I told Aleš that’s where I want ours to go. He can laugh all he likes, it’s something special.’

‘Ellis likes it there.’ She watched him running ahead of them, rattling his ’Splorer Stick against the trunks of the wintering horse chestnuts.

‘That’s what I told Pax. She can’t wait for him to meet Kester.’

Carly thought it a weird name, like a character from a BBC costume drama. ‘Ash wasn’t happy about it. Says they’re a bad lot at the stud. Stuck-up.’

‘Pax isn’t stuck-up, queen. She’s roughed it. A woman can tell.’

‘Ash says there’s history between Percys and Turners.’

‘Turners hold a grudge against most folk round here, don’t they?’

‘I guess. They’re all bad-tempered buggers, especially the men. Better watch their backs. Ash is psyching himself up for a fight.’

‘With the Percy family?’

‘No, his own.’ She felt the familiar tug of worry.

‘A bare-knuckle contest?’

‘You know about that?’ She looked at Bridge in surprise.

‘I’ve heard rumours.’

‘Yeah, well I’ve told him no way,’ Carly said darkly.

‘Think he’ll take any notice?’

‘Do they ever? It’s all fists and honour with men, isn’t it?’

Bridge made a harrumphing noise. Beneath the thick make-up, that bee-stung mouth was still more Joe Louis than Angelina Jolie, Carly had noticed. She’d yet to get to the bottom of why she’d wanted Skully’s number the day she’d fallen off her horse, although she’d heard Bridge complain that her husband thought of Craic like a love rival.

‘Everything all right at home with you now, is it?’ she asked casually.

‘Fierce. I don’t know where you get the idea Aleš lamps me about. I’d fecking deck him first.’

Carly sucked her teeth uncertainly. Her hands had started buzzing hotly on the buggy handles, sensing something in pain or distress, but she didn’t know Bridge well enough yet to pry.

‘Mother of God, will you look at this place?’ Bridge said when they rolled into the stud’s first big stable yard. ‘It’s like Blenheim Palace. Let’s dander under the arch. Is that Ronnie?’

A small figure in a huge squishy coat and bobbled beany hat was letting herself out of a stable, blue eyes taking in the young mums and toddlers invasion with delight.

‘Carly!’ She strode across beaming, quilted horse rug over one shoulder. ‘Just the person! Your ears must be burning. When can you start? Saturday too soon?’

‘Fine by me.’ Carly admired her hat, which had the biggest and fluffiest pom-pom she’d seen. In person, Ronnie always reminded her of a posh Kylie, far less intimidating than she was barking on the phone.

‘Wonderful!’ She stooped to greet the occupants of the buggy, both equally entranced by the pom-pom. ‘I don’t suppose you can spare a few mins now? I’m not here on Saturday, and it’ll save Luca’s valuable time if you’re already up to speed.’