‘Just a few lagers. They’ll get withdrawal symptoms otherwise – they’re usually in the Cat and Fiddle by this time. Don’t look so worried, Mad. It’s not going to turn into a riot.’

Maddy hoped not. She watched Suzy thrusting her way through the crowd and wished Fran was there. But she’d telephoned and said she wouldn’t join in because of Richard’s being reinstated on Saratoga. Neither of them wanted to cross Diana.

‘I’ve come to say sorry.’ Stacey, who always seemed to appear like a shimmying zephyr from nowhere, touched Maddy’s arm. ‘I think we both said things in the heat of the moment.’

‘I’m sure I didn’t,’ Maddy said coldly. ‘In fact, I can’t even remember what was said, but I’m sure I meant every word of it. Did Peter send you over here? What’s he trying to do? Canvass support at the eleventh hour?’

Stacey obviously didn’t understand this. She wrinkled her retroussé nose. ‘No, he didn’t. Daddy and Peter are just horrified by all this. It’s so stupid. After all, what on earth does that silly old woman from the shop think she’s doing?’

For once, Maddy found herself in agreement with Stacey – but she’d die before she let her know it. ‘I think it’s just to show how much the villagers are against the idea of ploughing up the orchard and the spinney for a golf course that is neither needed nor wanted. Surely, Peter and your father could plan their golf course somewhere else?’

‘Why should they?’ Stacey pouted. ‘All the trainers play golf, and most of the jockeys. They’ll all join, Peter says, and it’ll make a lot of jobs. Anyway, Peter and I are getting married in September. And we’ll be moving into the Manor and –’

‘I know all that,’ Maddy snapped. ‘Peter came round to the cottage to tell me himself.’

‘Did he?’ Stacey’s full lips trembled slightly. ‘Oh, yes, he told me … Anyway, it’ll be so handy for us living in the village with Petie running the golf club. You’re just being an old stick in the mud.’

‘No, I’m not. God, Stacey. Look at this.’ She waved her arms wildly. ‘These trees are glorious. It would be a desecration to tear them all down. There are enough golf courses in the area already – and enough people ploughing up what’s left of this country to build houses and industrial estates and, yes, bloody golf courses. If you want to live happily in Milton St John you’d better persuade Peter and your father to change their minds.’

‘Daddy won’t do that and neither will Peter. Anyway, golf courses are ever so pretty and green. I’ve seen the plans. They’re going to put lakes in and –’