Our quietest time was around noon. We ate early, and Katie and Dandy did most of the cooking. Robert ordered Jack and Rea to clear up the plates and wash them. Sometimes we would pile back into our bunks and sleep the early afternoon hours away. Sometimes, as it grew warmer, we would find our way to the nearest river or lake – going three-up on Morris or Bluebell – and spend an hour splashing in the cool water. One time, when we were playing in a field outside a little fishing village called Selsey in west Sussex, we all five of us went down to the sea: Jack and Rea on Snow, Dandy, Katie and me on Sea. We rode them along the pebbles of the beach down to the hard sand at the water’s edge and then urged them in. Sea jinked and fretted at the little waves and Katie cried to be let off. Dandy and I let her go and Dandy held tight around my waist while I urged Sea into the water. The waves came up to his knees and I still pressed him on until he made a little leap deeper into the sea and he was swimming with great heaving magical lunges. Dandy and I clung to his mane, swam beside him, letting his great heaving movement tug us through the water, buffeted by the waves. Jack and Rea were shouting with delight, trying to stay on Snow, and Katie lost her fear and played at the water’s edge. We five became children again for that little time, playing as we had never been allowed to play in our overworked childhoods. But then Jack looked at the sun and nodded at me.

‘Time to head back,’ he said. The others wanted to stay for longer under the warm sun, by the washing sea, but Jack and I carried our way against them.

‘I’ve got to get these two clean,’ I said ruefully, looking at Sea’s coat which was matted with salt and his mane which was drying in tangles.

‘I’ll help,’ Dandy promised lightly. ‘I’ll help and then we can all stay longer!’

‘No,’ I said, and Jack nodded his agreement with me.

‘Come on,’ he said, vaulting up on to Snow. ‘Time to get back.’

Katie rode home between Jack and Rea. Dandy and I came along behind, slowly, on Sea.

It was only mid-April, but warm as Maytime. The sun was hot on our heads.

‘You named him well when you called him Sea,’ Dandy said sleepily. ‘Why did you call him that, Merry?’

She was riding before me and I felt happy and easy with her in my arms.

‘Because of Wide,’ I said. ‘I felt that I had seen him before at Wide and that he had a name there like Sea – something. I don’t know what. So I called him Sea.’