Bus Driver 1 – Van Driver 0 (And I never got to drink my tea)
Every Tuesday, I abandon my writing desk and become a bus driver for the afternoon.
It’s a volunteer role supporting a community service that has filled a hole left by a commercial operator who pulled out a few years ago.
Every week, it’s the same route. Around and around.
Time drags. The familiarity leading to boredom.
Except this week when I had to negotiate not one but three major road closures.
Frustrating around the town.
But on the country lanes, serving some of the outlying villages, it was beyond stressful.
The bus is a 16-seater, long wheelbase beast.
Not great when you meet a car coming in the opposite direction and wanting to squeeze through a gap that’s barely big enough for a bicycle.
And then there was the man in the black Transit van who came racing down another lane and found me blocking his way.
I’m not a lip-reader, but from his body language, I deduced he wanted me to ‘move out of the f---- way.’
My bus was twice the size of his van.
No way I was reversing, especially as there was a motorbike behind me.
I crossed my arms.
Pulled on my handbrake.
And waited for him to come to his senses.
He wasn’t happy, but finally he reversed back and I was able to squeeze past.
Bus driver 1 – van driver 0.
A small victory, but you have to take them where you can 😊
Before I knew it, my shift was over.
Time had flown by.
And I hadn’t even had the chance to drink my flask of tea.
Cold tea is exactly what I hope you end up with too when you read my new thriller, His Dead Wife, out on November 10.
Too busy trying to work out whether Joanne will take her revenge to remember to drink.
The Thriller Couple
By the time you read this week’s newsletter, Amanda and I will be travelling home with an empty back seat and maybe the odd tear in our eyes.
We’ll have taken our younger son, Thomas, to Peterborough, where he’s due to start his first proper job on Monday.
And that means moving out of home and living on his own for the first time.
It’ll be sad coming home to an empty house (apart from the cats, of course) but we’re so excited for him as he starts this new phase of his life.
And it’s only 1,312 hours until Christmas…
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