‘No, of course not. I just think there must be some other way. I think we’re in danger of making fools of ourselves. Bert Maynard wants to sell the orchard because he can’t see it ever making a profit for him again, and Diana is adamant that she’ll sell the spinney because she and Gareth will become shareholders in the golf course. Neither of them will change their minds, not even if we build treehouses and fire Exocets at the JCBs.’

‘Which can be arranged,’ Bronwyn said darkly, ignoring the clamour from the stable lads who were desperate for a calorie rush. ‘You had such a success with getting Richard reinstated on Saratoga, I thought maybe you would have been able to persuade Diana –’

‘Not a hope,’ Maddy put in quickly. ‘The Derby ride was something completely different.’

Bronwyn gave in to the stable lads and bagged up dolly mixtures at the speed of light. ‘So, will you be coming to the protest tonight?’

‘Yes, of course.’ Maddy tucked the washing powder under her arm. ‘But I still think we’re going about things the wrong way.’

She cycled home slowly, wobbling alongside the stream and gazing at the glorious spread of the spinney and the orchard as it rolled away from the village in a billow of green.

Trust bloody Peter to want to turn such natural rural beauty into yet another sop to Mammon. She’d fight him every inch of the way, but in her heart she felt that the battle had already been lost.

She reached the cottage and fed the washing powder into the machine. The morning stretched idly ahead, because for once all her normal Friday paperwork had been completed before the end of The Breakfast Show. Unable to sleep, Maddy had risen before Luke and Suzy, and tackled the invoicing and the wages. It had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that the office window looked out on to Peapods’ drive, and she had been able to watch Caroline’s departure at just after seven.

Her leggings needed washing. In her haste to make an early start, she’d pulled on a grubby pair. She tugged them off and then pulled her T-shirt over her head. The washing machine could take a bit more if she leaned on the door. After all, she had to economise now. The first repayment on the credit card would bring anguished screams from the bank manager.