“Shall we canter?” Suze calls over her shoulder. Before I can reply she’s kicked her horse, and it’s zooming away like National Velvet, closely followed by Lulu.

“We don’t have to canter, Ginger,” I say quickly to the horse. “We can just—”

Oh my Goooooood. He’s taken off after the others.

Fuck. Oh fuck. I am going to fall off. I know I am. My whole body is rigid. I’m clenching the saddle so hard it’s hurting my hands.

“Are you OK, Bex?” shouts Suze.

“Fine!” I call back, but I just want this to stop. The wind is streaming past my face. I feel ill with terror.

I’m going to die. My life is over. The only plus I can think of is it’ll sound really cool when they report it in the papers.

A KEEN HORSEWOMAN, REBECCA BRANDON (NÈE BLOOMWOOD) DIED WHILE OUT CANTERING WITH HER FRIENDS.

Oh God. I think he’s slowing down. At last. We’re trotting… we’re kind of jogging… we’re finally coming to a halt.

Somehow I manage to unclench my hands.

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“Isn’t it lovely?” says Suze, turning round on Pepper. Her blond hair is streaming out from under her hat and her cheeks are flushed pink. “Shall we have a really good gallop?”

Gallop?

You have to be kidding. If Ginger takes one more step, I’ll throw up.

“Can you jump yet, Bex?” she asks. “There’s just a couple of little ones coming up. But you should be able to manage them,” she says encouragingly. “You’re really good!”

For a moment I can’t speak.

“I just need to… er… adjust my stirrup,” I manage at last. “You two go on.”

I wait until the two of them are out of sight before I slither to the ground. My legs are all shaky and I feel nauseous. I am never leaving solid ground again. Never. Why on earth would people do this for fun?

I sink down onto the grass and take off my new riding hat — which, to be honest, has been hurting my ears since I put it on. Suze and Lulu are probably miles away by now. Galloping along and talking about nappies.

“Come on,” I say to Ginger. “Let’s walk back.” I stand up and cautiously pull the reins — and to my astonishment he obediently follows.

This is more like it.

As I walk across the grass, I start to relax a bit. A horse is actually a pretty cool accessory. Who says you need to get on it? I could still go to Hyde Park every day. I could buy a really pretty horse and just lead it around like a dog. And if any passersby asked, “Why aren’t you riding?” I’d just give them a knowing smile and say, “We’re resting today.”

We wander along for a while and at last come to an empty road. I stand for a moment, looking from left to right. In one direction, the road disappears up a hill and round a corner. In the other, I can see what seems to be quite a sweet little village, all beamed houses, and a patch of grass, and…

Ooh. Are those… shops?

Half an hour later I feel a lot better.

I’ve bought some gorgeous cheese with walnuts in it, and some gooseberry preserve, and some huge radishes, which Luke will love. And best of all, I found this amazing little shop that sells hats. Right here in this village! Apparently, the milliner is local and is practically the next Philip Treacy. I mean, not that I wear hats that often… but I’m bound to be invited to a wedding soon, or Ascot or something. And the prices were fantastic. So I bought a white one decorated with ostrich feathers and a black velvet one all covered in jewels. They’re a bit cumbersome in their hatboxes, but they were so worth it.

Ginger whinnies as I approach the lamppost where I tied him up, and stamps his foot on the ground.

“Don’t worry!” I say. “I haven’t left you out.” I bought him a bagful of Chelsea buns and some “extra sheen” shampoo for his mane. I reach in the bag and feed him one of the Chelsea buns, trying not to shudder as he slobbers on my hand.

The only slight problem now is… where am I going to put all my shopping? I can’t very easily hold all these carrier bags and lead Ginger along the road. Should I try to mount him carrying my shopping? What did people do in the olden days?

Then suddenly I notice a big buckle on one of Ginger’s saddle straps. I could easily hang a bag off that. I pick up one of the paper carriers and loop it over the buckle — and it hangs there perfectly! And now that I look properly, there are handy buckles all over Ginger’s tack. Genius!

Happily I start hanging bags from every available hook, strap, and buckle on Ginger’s tack. This is great. I never realized a horse could hold so much shopping. Last of all I tie my two hatboxes onto the side. They are so gorgeous, all pink-and-white candy stripes.




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