Alex swallowed, blinking away unshed tears. A horrible thought was preying on her mind. ‘Was… was it my fault? I’m not as good at jumping as you are. I… I might have done something wrong and it made Pasha land awkwardly.’

Zoe shook her head. ‘I don’t think so. Everything looked fine from where I was.’

Alex nodded slowly, hoping that Zoe was right and not just saying that to make her feel better.

The wait was almost unbearable, but eventually the vet was finished. The moment the vet dusted off her hands and rose to her feet, Alex rushed back.

‘What’s wrong with Pasha? Her leg’s not broken, is it? She’s not going to have to be…’ She couldn’t say the awful words.

‘No,’ the vet said quickly, banishing her worst fears. ‘But it’s a bad sprain and she’s split her heel. Your pony’s going to be out of action for a while she rests that leg.’

Alex was so relieved that Pasha wasn’t more seriously hurt that it took a few seconds for the news to sink in. ‘But… she is going to get well again?’

The vet nodded. ‘There’s no reason why she shouldn’t make a full recovery. I’ve given her some medicine, so she’ll be more comfortable on the journey home.’

Alex felt faint with relief. She turned and gave Zoe a thumbs-up. Zoe waved back, beaming.

With the vet and her dad helping, they managed to get Pasha safely up the ramp and into their transporter. The big truck-sized horse lorry hadn’t been new when they got it recently and there was a dent on one side. Inside, it had room for four ponies and loads of space for equipment.

Once Pasha was tethered in her stall, Alex gave her a handful of oats. ‘You were so brave,’ she crooned, patting her. ‘You have a good rest now.’

Back outside, she felt at a loose end. Zoe was grooming Maxi and her mum was making lunch. Her dad suggested they have a mooch around the show’s stalls, which sold everything from riding boots to the latest saddle soap.

Alex didn’t really fancy it. Pasha’s injury had cast a shadow over the day for her. ‘Thanks, but do you mind if I go for a walk by myself instead?’ she asked him.

‘Course not, love. It’ll do you good. Don’t be too long.’

‘I won’t.’

She wandered across the lorry park. Riders on ponies and horses passed her on their way to and from the showjumping and dressage enclosures. It was a warm spring day; families were enjoying picnics on the grass as they watched the cross-country.

Alex went through a gateway that led into a small copse. Flame-shaped yellow crocus flowers glowed against the dark soil next to shy purple violets. One or two people were walking their dogs, but the place was mostly empty. The rich smells of bark and grass surrounded her.