The talk was rallying; a call to arms. Bernie quoted other similar cases, and how they would learn from those successes and failures. It was all very stimulating. Sandra and Barry, Joe, Nicky, and Peanut, all pledged their expertise and support. A committee, as such, was decided against at this stage. Instead it was suggested that the village used its collective muscle. The Pughs would confront the Maynard family and try to persuade them not to be swayed by vast sums of money.

‘… And,’ Bronwyn had at last got the hang of the microphone, ‘I suggest that Maddy Beckett approaches the James-Jordans regarding Goddards Spinney.’

All eyes turned to Maddy. Crimson faced she shook her head. Drew squeezed her fingers. ‘You can do it, Maddy. Diana likes you, and Gareth would be putty in your hands.’

‘Well, Maddy?’ Bronwyn was beaming.

‘Er, yes … well, yes.’

There was more clapping and foot stamping and whistling. The villagers of Milton St John didn’t get out much.

‘So, we’ll meet again in a fortnight’s time – just before The Derby.’ Bronwyn was in complete control now. ‘If peaceful negotiations have failed, we know what we have to do, don’t we?’

Milton St John didn’t. Sandra and Barry, Joe, Nicky, and Peanut raised clenched fists and yelled, ‘Fight! Fight! Fight!’

Milton St John was quick to catch on and echoed the battle cry. Fran blew her nose loudly. The Pughs and their ragtag army left the stage, and chairs were scraped back as the village filed out of the hall into the damp night.

The atmosphere in the dusky street was euphoric. Knots of people stood around, laughing and talking, all inspired by Bronwyn’s diatribe.

‘Would you like to come to the Cat and Fiddle?’ Drew asked Fran. ‘It seems too early to go home, and I could do with a drink – especially after all that emotion.’

‘No thanks. It’s a great idea, but I’d better get home. Richard tends to become another kid when he’s left alone with them. The house will be awash with Scalextric and Sindy’s Magic Castle, and Tom and Chloe will be glued to the adult channel.’

‘Is there still no news about the Derby ride?’ Maddy squeezed Fran’s arm. ‘Is he still down in the dumps about it?’

‘Down and staying down. Not even the fact that he did so well at the Guineas meeting can lift him, mainly because Luke won the blue riband on Saratoga – the bastard.’ She sighed. ‘I don’t really mean that. I know it isn’t Luke’s fault, but there’s really no time at all before The Derby, and the papers are already full of Saratoga being the hottest favourite for years – with the hottest jockey.’