‘Yeah. Hangovers suck. Thanks again for last night,’ he added.

She shrugged and smiled. They’d walked past the cramped old cottages of Rotten Row and were crossing Main Road. As they passed his spray shop he automatically glanced over to ensure the doors were safely secured. While distracted, he found himself stepping onto a frozen puddle, which promptly cracked. ‘Jeez, the state of Gabe’s track,’ he complained, as ice water oozed towards the top of his Vans.

Laurel, in leather ankle boots, had swerved to one edge of the track to pick her way along tufts of grass. ‘The kids, of course, just hurtle into it.’ Daisy and Zuzanna, hanging on to Niall’s arms, began shrieking as they slithered about.

Their laughter made Grady smile. ‘We were the same at their age. I seem to remember a girl who fell off the log over the stream and cried with laughter when she soaked us both.’

Laurel’s mouth curved into a smile that told him she remembered, too.

‘Teenagers have the ability to bounce back,’ Grady went on, opting to follow her example, discovering that the edges of the track were less slippery than the middle but you ran the risk of getting spiky hawthorn twigs in your face.

‘Not from everything,’ Laurel said quietly.

Grady, thinking of the death of Laurel’s mum and the bullying he’d only just found out about, wished he’d thought before he’d spoken. But then they rounded the curve and saw Gabe and Uncle Bertie huddling into their coats at the paddock gate. The two men faced each other, white beard and silver ponytail ruffled by the wind. Daybreak, the pale grey pony who was now sporting a smart navy turnout rug, stood beside Bertie. Snobby pressed his black head to Gabe’s arm. It was as if the two animals were taking sides.

But Laurel muttered, ‘Uh-oh. Looks as if we’re interrupting an argument.’ She raised her voice. ‘Daisy? Maybe we should—’

Daisy blithely motored on, grinning and waving, while Zuzanna called, ‘Hiya! We’ve come to see the new pony.’ Laurel and Grady had little choice but to join the group.

Laurel said to Gabe and Bertie apologetically, ‘We’ve barged into your Sunday morning.’

‘Laurel can ride,’ Daisy said to Gabe, as if Laurel hadn’t spoken. ‘She could exercise Dave for you.’

‘The pony is called Daybreak,’ Gabe snapped. Grady felt his eyebrows lift. He didn’t think he’d ever heard Gabe snap at anyone. Then Gabe collected himself and smiled – first at Daisy, then at Laurel. ‘Do you ride? Daybreak’s not a geriatric, like Snobby. She needs exercise several times a week. We were just—’ he treated his uncle to a hard stare ‘—discussing it.’

‘You put her on that long rein,’ Uncle Bertie put in pugnaciously.