Despite her evident misgivings, half an hour later Laurel was mounting Daybreak from the gate, Grady at the pony’s head and holding the stirrup. The hard hat had a chin strap and short peak, suiting her as well as the bobble hat had. Once up, she stooped to check the girth, gathered up her reins and stroked Daybreak’s neck. ‘Let her go.’

As Gabe’s hand released the bridle it was as if someone had fired a starter’s pistol. Daybreak whirled on the spot, narrowly missing Gabe’s knee with a flying hoof, threw up her head and, with a series of snorts, bucked and propped her way across the paddock.

‘Eek,’ breathed Daisy, eyes enormous. Zuzanna slapped her hand across her mouth.

Laurel’s firm voice floated back to them. ‘Stop it, Daybreak.’ She sat her bum down into the saddle, kept her hands low and refused to give the pony her head. With a last buck, Daybreak arched her neck and tripped into a neat trot as if that’s what she’d always meant to do, mane and tail streaming like ghostly banners.

‘Dave looks wonderful,’ Bertie marvelled, beaming, elbows on the gate.

Grady thought Laurel looked wonderful, too, as he watched her first few circuits, taken back to those long-ago dawns on the Carlysle Estate when he’d watched while Laurel stole rides on a different under-exercised pony. Then horse and rider broke into a flowing canter down the long side of the paddock, reined back to trot again along the short side, and cantered the long side again, passing the gate in a thunder of flying hooves and clods of mud. Snobby watched, ears pricked, wearing an aghast expression behind his unruly forelock.

Over the next half-hour, Laurel rode figures of eight and put Daybreak through her paces. Then she returned to the gate, the pony’s breath clouding on the cold air. ‘I’ll walk her to cool her down, OK?’

Gabe rested his hand on the gate bolt. ‘Hack her round the bridleways. More interesting for you both than the paddock.’

‘Yes!’ the three teens clamoured instantly. ‘We can all go together. It’ll be sick.’

‘Sick?’ demanded Gabe, looking mystified.

‘They mean “great”,’ Grady supplied with a grin.

‘Well, OK,’ Laurel agreed. ‘Daisy, you and your friends need to walk in front though. If you get behind Daybreak she might kick. We’ll go down Little Lane to join the footpath, follow the stream to the ford then come back down Main Road.’

Gabe and Bertie waved them off, making for Gabe’s house and, if they had any sense, a nice warm drink.