‘Well, you look great.’ Angela is on her feet, and I can tell by the distraction in her voice that she’s already on to the next appointment in her head, already thinking about the next mum. ‘It’s not often I get to mums this early in the morning and they’re already showered and dressed. I think we can discharge you, if you’re happy?’

‘Yes, I’m happy.’ I follow her to the front door, the baby starting to grizzle in my arms. ‘Thank you.’ She waves as she runs to her car, already even later than before, and I call to Mina to come and get her shoes on. We’re going to the bookshop.

The village is quiet, and as I approach the threshold of the bookshop, I am relieved that I have made it along the High Street without bumping into anyone I know. Mina sighs impatiently as I wrangle the pram through the narrow door into the quiet calm of the store, before slipping past me and heading towards a squashy beanbag arranged in one corner.

I glance anxiously towards the woman behind the till, an older lady with dishevelled curly hair tied up in a headscarf, big silver earrings hanging from her ears. She flaps a hand and smiles. ‘She’s fine.’ She comes out from behind the till and crouches beside Mina, pulling out a handful of picture books from the shelf behind her. I smile my thanks as she gets to her feet, Mina already engrossed in the colourful pages. ‘Is there something I can help you with?’

‘Ermm … I’m looking for something about local legends … maybe something on the houses in the area?’ I feel my cheeks flush a hot red as I stumble over the words.

‘Oh, something like this?’ The woman leads me towards the display of local books and pulls one down with a dark cover, a ghostly apparition on the front. The title is The Legend of The Black Horse.