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Meanwhile, to our right, behind another hedge, the one that bordered the lane, the school bus had stopped. Dozens of children's eyes and mouths widened in astonishment as they watched the rodeo show unfold, Anna's cousins amongst them. Molly was now precipitating down a grassy bank, the incline of which only increased her speed, in her determination to reach her new equine best friends, who, having encountered her already today were unconvinced they wanted her company, and were cavorting around their field tossing their heads, necks arched, nostrils flared. Molly, perhaps believing this antipathy had something to do with her human baggage rather than her sharp hoofs, gave an almighty buck, as if to truly announce her presence and calibre, thus discharging Anna, and sending her flying through the air, landing with a bump on her bottom.

‘ANNA!’ I screamed.

Her cousins by now had descended the bus and were flying, horrified, book bags and blazers waving in their hands, across the field, to the scene of the disaster. From different points of the compass we all arrived as one, to converge around her on the ground.

‘Anna! Oh, darling, are you all right?’ I flew to her side.

‘NO!’ she screamed.

She was in floods of tears, but even I could see that the alacrity with which she stood up and brushed herself down meant, thank God, only pride was bruised, and perhaps her bottom. Other than that, she was just a good deal shaken up. I wrapped her in my arms and she sobbed piteously on my shoulder. She couldn't actually agree that anything was broken, and she didn't think she had a pierced lung, as Phoebe helpfully suggested, or that her clavicle, which Henry insisted snapped like a wishbone – and he should know, he'd broken his twice in the scrum – was impaired. We all fussed around her, patting and consoling, until at length, her sobs turned to sniffing and gulps. A suggestion of strong tea was made by Jack, and Anna nodded stoically, consenting to being led away to the house by her cousins.

‘Put lots of sugar in it, Jack,’ commanded his mother. ‘I'll come in a minute but I need to sort this bloody horse out.’

‘And whisky?’

‘No!’

‘Daddy does sometimes.’

‘Do not!’

‘D'you want me to come too?’ I called after them as they led her away, hoping to escape the Bloody Horse, but Anna turned and shook her head vehemently.

‘You flew that hedge,’ Jack was saying to her, admiringly.

‘I couldn't have sat it,’ Phoebe agreed. ‘I've been wanting to jump it for ages, but Mummy won't let me.’

I blessed them for bolstering her. They were always thrilled to have her in their midst, and now perhaps were pleased, in the nicest possible way, to be encouraging her in something she found difficult, but they excelled at. As Anna limped off, Phoebe's arm round her shoulders, where it had never rested before, Caro strode up to Molly. She was quietly grazing nearby as if butter wouldn't melt, and consented to having her reins seized without a murmur. What, me? her eyes seemed to say. Caro gave the reins a mighty yank.

‘This is not a first pony!’ she seethed. ‘I can't believe you bought her!’

‘She wasn't like that!’ I wailed. ‘When we saw her she was as quiet as a lamb, so docile. And Anna rode her beautifully. Trotted in circles, just like she does at the stables.’

‘Drugged,’ snapped Caro.

‘No!’ I breathed, shocked.

‘Quite probably.’ She led Molly off across the fields and back towards the stables. I stumbled after her. ‘And this mare –’ she stopped abruptly to stick her thumb in the side of Molly's mouth; she jerked it open and peered in – ‘is four if she's a day. Probably brought over from Ireland and very recently broken, poor thing. Badly too, and then drugged to sell. It's disgraceful. We'll send her back immediately.’

When we got to the yard she threw Molly in a box. Then she whipped her mobile from her jeans pocket, and punched out a number.

‘Mr Docherty?’ Her back straightened like a poker. ‘It's Caroline Milligan here.’

And she was off. Giving it to him straight, and in no uncertain terms. Letting him know he was a liar, a thief, and