We were riding the two cobs down the lane when I heard the car roaring its engine behind us.
I had seen it pull out of a long, winding driveway coming from a house perched on top of the highest point of the hillside, a few hundred yards along from our place.
It went the other way for a few seconds, then I could hear it screech, turn and start to hurtle back towards us along the long straight stretch of lane it was evidently using to get up speed.
We only had a few yards until we reached the back gates of our house. I looked behind and waved at the white car, expecting the driver to slow because, after all, he was our neighbour.
The car revved its engines and kept coming. I shouted ‘Slow down please!’ because Duey was starting to jump about, and he’s fairly bomb-proof.
Our poor horses are used to idiots after living in Surrey for so many years
Our poor horses are used to idiots after living in Surrey for so many years.
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