September 1945

"No Lucy, you can't do that!"

A tall, slim, pretty, red-haired, blue-eyed girl ran up the lane, jumped over the small brook that ran parallel to it, before vaulting over a set of timber rails into a large paddock. A shorter, chunkier, younger girl with brown hair and eyes ran behind her, puffing and panting in her struggle to keep pace with her elder sister.

"You watch me Kitty," Lucy replied gleefully leaning her arms on the top rail of the fence.

"But, but," Kitty panted, "what happens if Mr Bailey sees you again?"

"He won't," Lucy replied mischievously, "Red Robin and Lord Benjamin are running at the big meeting at Doncaster today, I saw it in the paper, he will have gone there. He won't be back until tomorrow."

"But what about Mr Pitts?"

"This time of day he'll be fast asleep in the hay barn."

"I'll tell Mum!" Kitty blurted out in one last desperate attempt to make her sister see sense.

"Go on then," Lucy mocked, glaring at her sister, waiting for her to run off, but knowing full well she would not move. "Go on," she repeated.

When Kitty did not move, Lucy span on her heels away from the fence, pulled a length of rope out of her coat pocket, and began to stride confidently towards a fine, dapple-grey stallion. The horse raised his head as he saw Lucy approach, but rather than fleeing, wandered nonchalantly over to her. He rubbed his salmon-pink nose on Lucy's shoulder, then snorted into her hair.

"Hello Sid," Lucy cooed affectionately, "I haven't been to see you for a while, have I? I am sorry."

Sid snorted back at her, which, smiling, she interpreted as forgiveness.

"Look boy," Lucy continued, pulling out a crumpled newspaper clipping showing a picture of two racehorses, neck and neck at the winning post. The caption read 'Sydney Harbour beats Dark Sapphire in the 2:40 at Ascot by a short head.' "Look, there's you, you did very well didn't you?"

Sydney Harbour tossed his grey head majestically and Lucy began to giggle.

"You are a showman aren't you?"

Lucy stuffed the newspaper clipping back into her pocket and ran her hand across Sydney Harbour's flank. Then, straightening the rope, she began to wrap it around his head, securing it with a tight knot under his gullet. Lifting her makeshift reins over his head, she took a long look around her to make sure the coast was clear before jumping onto his back. She shuffled forward so she was sat perched on the thoroughbred's angular withers, and set off at a trot back towards the fence. Kitty was stood in the field, her arms folded across her chest, an attempt at a menacing scowl painted across her face.

"I'm telling Mum!" Kitty called as the grey horse came to a halt beside the fence.

"So you said," Lucy drawled, "but Mum is at home, not here, so hadn't you better, you know, go away!"

"Right I'm telling!" Kitty screamed, but her screams were drowned out by the gasp which was coming from Lucy's mouth.

At the sound of Kitty screaming, Sydney Harbour had shied away in alarm, snorting and whinnying, spinning and kicking. Realising what she had done, Kitty began to apologise, tears of fear beginning to trickle down her cheeks.

"Stand back!" Lucy called to Kitty.

But Kitty did not hear her sister's warning. Sydney Harbour reared up on his back legs and Lucy, unable to keep with him, slid off out the side door, landing in a heap on the ground. The horse galloped off across the field, and clutching her side, Lucy struggled to her feet. Then she saw what had happened. Kitty was lying motionless on the ground a little way off, a deep cut above her right eye was bleeding heavily. Lucy was panic-struck. She ran to where her sister was sprawled on the ground and began to shake her.

"Kitty, Kitty, Kitty" she wailed, "wake up, please."

"Urgh," Kitty moaned, "urgh, I'm gonna be." Kitty, unable to finish her sentence, projectile vomited across her sister, before sinking into the ground again, motionless once again.

Lucy had to force herself not to be sick as she tried to clean her pinafore as best she could. She ran back to the fence, jumped over it, then ran the half mile down into the village. Gasping for breath she knocked on the door of Dr Mulligan's ivy-covered stone cottage.

Dr Mulligan opened the door and looked in alarm at the child, out of breath and covered with vomit, standing on his doorstep. He looked at her over the top of his horn-rimmed reading glasses and said,

"Whatever is the matter child?"

"It's my sister, she got kicked by one of Mr Bailey's racehorses, and it's all my fault and now she's not moving and she was sick all over me," Lucy garbled.

"Steady now," Dr Mulligan said calmly, "where is she now?"

"In Orchard Field, just before the road takes that sharp turn,"

"Let's take my car and you can show me," Dr Mulligan said gently.

Five minutes later Lucy watched with trembling knees as Dr Mulligan examined her semi-conscious sister in the field. After what seemed an eternity, Dr Mulligan picked Kitty up and carried her back to the fence. Between the two of them, they managed to lay her across the back seat of the car.

"There's no broken bones, thankfully," Dr Mulligan confirmed, "but she has something called concussion, which means that she will need plenty of rest and looking after. And that cut will need stitching and regular re-dressing."

"Oh," Lucy murmured.

"I will have to speak to your mother," Dr Mulligan continued, "is she at home?"

Lucy nodded.

"Good," Dr Mulligan replied, and the car fell silent.

"What on earth has happened?" Mrs Yates squealed as she saw Dr Mulligan and Lucy carrying Kitty up the pathway.

"Kitty's had a bit of an accident," Dr Mulligan began, "had a run in with one of Mr Bailey's…"

"What!" Mrs Yates gasped, "What do you mean? Lucy?"

"Urgh," Kitty moaned, and the sight and sound of her daughter stunned Mrs Yates into silence. Lucy breathed a gentle sigh of relief.

"Your daughter is going to need medical attention and observation for the next few days," Dr Mulligan continued.

"But, we can't afford it," Mrs Yates protested, "I can barely afford to feed them on my war widow's pension."

"I understand," Dr Mulligan soothed. "I will contact the Order of St Raymond Nonnatus. They are an order of nuns who are also nurses and midwives. They are based in Chichester, but they are expanding their work to nearby villages. They do not charge fees as high as we do. They will be able to care for Kitty. Now, she needs to be kept warm, and only let her have small sips of water."

"Yes, doctor."