As soon as Tui is dropped off at the stables by her dad, Simon, she throws herself into my arms so hard that we both tumble over backwards, landing on the threadbare office sofa in a tangle of limbs and laughter. My little sister is not so little anymore, having now overtaken me in both height and strength. Two years ago, I could piggyback her around the indoor school with ease, pretending to be a pony while she cackled away on my back yelling ‘gee-up!’ If I tried to do that now, her feet would trail along through the dirt.

‘Did you bring me a surprise?’ is her predictable first question, followed by a crow of joy when I produce the new Evangeline And … book from my bag.

‘Can you read it to me?’ she begs, frowning as I make a futile attempt to put her off until bedtime. It is hopeless because Tui knows just as well as I do that I’ll eventually give in. I still can’t refuse her anything – and why should I? She deserves the world.

‘OK,’ I relent, getting into a more comfortable position on the sofa. ‘Are you ready?’

Tui nods, slipping a thumb into her mouth to suck. Bonnie, Kit and I have been trying our best to discourage this habit, but today I don’t have the heart to berate her. Two weeks away from Tui is two weeks too many – next time I fly back to England, she will have to come with me, it’s as simple as that.

Waiting until she is snuggled up next to me, I open the book. This one is set in the old American West, which I know Tui will love. Clearing my throat and adopting my best Evangeline The Explorer voice, I start to read:

Her home had vanished, just like the train. Evangeline blinked, then blinked once again.

Where there’d been houses, now there was sand; she took it all in, this strange new land.

Horses pulled wagons and kicked up the dust. Could they be real, or was she concussed?

People were pointing, confused by this girl, with skates on her feet, and a head full of curls.

‘Can I get some skates, Gee-nie?’ Tui asks, her words muffled by the thumb that is still in her mouth. The answer to this question must unavoidably be a ‘no’, given my sister’s perpetual clumsiness and my desire to keep her in one piece, but instead of dismissing the idea outright, I distract her by pointing at other parts of the illustration, asking her which of the ponies here at Koru Stables are the same colours as those in the book. It seems to work, and I’m able to turn to the next page.