Real life | 5 March 2011

As soon as I realised my lucky whip was missing I should have put the horse back in her stable. But my riding companion was tacked up and ready to go and so in a moment of madness I decided that it was time to stop this superstitious nonsense.

I grabbed a spare whip with no known lucky qualities and mounted the mare. We set off for Effingham Common where all went well until we came to the stretch where the horses know they are going to gallop. They started to snort and jump up and down, my friend shouted out to ask if I was ready, I shouted back that I was and we let them go.

My friend’s horse shot off at a terrific speed but Tara Lee refused to go. She just bounced up and down, snorting and hissing and making the most unfortunate rear end noises.

And then with the most almighty heave she threw herself so far up in the air that it was all I could do to shut my eyes and pray that I would come down somewhere soft.

To my astonishment I came down in the saddle, which was only pleasing for a second because then she did exactly the same thing again. After a few bouts of this she started running round in circles like a startled cat and came to an exhausted, steaming halt. Then she staggered erratically up the hill. I peered round at her and she had on her face a glazed, confused expression that reminded me of the look worn by those unfortunate women who go shoplifting in supermarkets for no reason late at night in their pyjamas.