A Stitch in Time

I can still remember the day it happened, even though it seems such a long time ago now, but I am certain the account is true. It is just that it all seems so unreal, that it never really happened, but how else did we end up here?

It had been a hot sunny day and the vehicle had literally torn across Salisbury Plain at top speed. Jimmy, the driver of the bus, was a young man without a care in the world. He was like me. He loved to race down the roads, just like any schoolboy would, sending up clouds of dust behind us, and scaring away all the ponies. It was great fun.

I remember feeling how lucky I was to be on the trip that day. It was the start of the summer holidays and mum dad and my sister Liz were having a day out in the local town and of course I had to go with them. It was a marvellous treat for us all because dad was usually working all the time and mum was always busy with her friends. Liz was two years older than me and spent all her playtime with dolls, which for an eight-year old boy was really boring. All any eight-year old wanted to do was play at being a soldier or pretend to be a racing driver. On that day there were two real soldiers on the single deck bus. What more could a boy want.

The soldiers, I think Bert and Sid were their names, were both in uniform. That's how I knew they were soldiers. They were laughing a lot and chatting to two pretty foreign girls, tourists on a sightseeing trip round Salisbury. The young men were just returning after a couple of days leave and had decided to hitchhike back to their camp. They were enormously grateful to the bus driver who stopped to pick them up, especially as he did not seem bothered about charging them anything. The two foreign girls seemed quite happy to see them as well.

As we swerved round one bend and then another mum seemed to be alarmed. I can remember her looking a bit pale as the bus charged along and several times mum looked to dad for reassurance.

"It's alright luv. Don't worry. I'm sure the driver knows what he's doing," said dad, trying to sound calm. It didn't seem to help mum much but neither Liz nor myself were worried. She was busy playing with her favourite doll and I had just spotted a tank rolling over a distant hill."

"Wow, look at that dad!" I said, excitedly, and was pleased to see dad wink at me. At least somebody knew what it was like to be a small boy.

There were other people on the bus. There was Mr. Green, our History teacher, and I was surprised to seem him on the bus I can tell you. There were also three old men. Two were travelling together and sat near the front of the bus. One grumpy old man sat by himself in the seat opposite to us and just stared out of the window. There was also Molly. She was an ancient lady too. At least twenty-eight if I remember correctly. She lived down the road from us. The two soldiers and girls were at the back for some reason. Mum just told me "Eyes front young man. Don't gawk at their uniforms," although I think she was trying to stop me from seeing something else, although I could never work out what.

I remember the bus tearing round a bend and one of the girls laughed really, really loudly at something one of the soldiers said. I looked round to see the four of them all smiling and laughing together. Then the bus hit a bump and I looked forward to see what Jim the driver was doing. For a moment he had been distracted by the sound of the girls' voice and looked in his mirror to see what was happening. Too late he noticed the pony step out into the road.