I shot the bolts on the kitchen door and let myself out into the cold dawn air. Robert’s jacket was warm and rough against my cheek. It smelled of the earlier life: of his pipe tobacco, of fried bacon, of horse sweat, of oats. The smells of my childhood, which was no childhood at all.

Sea was turned out in the paddock wearing just a headcollar. There was a spare rope by the water pump, I needed nothing else to ride him. I went to the gate and whistled for him (a lady never whistles) and he raised his head and pricked his ears and came blithely towards me as if he were glad to see me in my old familiar clothes. As if I were about to take him back to the old life. I clipped the rope on his headcollar and led him through the little white gate. I had forgotten how high he was. I had been lifted into the saddle as if I were a child or an old lady for months. I had nearly forgotten how to vault.

I said, ‘Stand,’ to him and found I had lost none of my skill. I was on his back in one clear leap and his ears went forward as he felt me astride him as I had always ridden him before we came here. I touched him gently with a soft squeeze of both legs on his warm flanks, and he stepped out gently down the drive towards the old woodland track through the parkland to Wideacre.

A blackbird had started singing, his voice sounded surprised to be awake this early, but all the other birds were still silent. The sun was not yet up, the morning was cool and grey. Sea and I were like ghosts of ourselves, leaving in dawnlight as we had come in moonlight. I put my hand in my pocket and felt the golden guineas were still there safe. We could go as we had come and disappear into the world of the common people. The world of wagons and travellers and shows, and no one would ever be able to find us again. Wideacre could stay as it was – fair, fruitful, generous. Nothing need change if I was not there, demanding my rights like a late-hatched greedy cuckoo chick. Perry could drink and play, annoy his mother and seek her forgiveness without me. He would come to his fortune at the end. It would make no difference to Lady Clara.

I could sink from the sight of this new life and no one would grieve for me. Within three months they would have forgotten all about me again.