Reorganisation · Level 3

Is that the best you can do? yelled the coach. No. But I can't do any better, I thought. He's an outright bully, I told Kenny later. I told you he was like that, Jack, he said. It's time you changed clubs. I shook my head. No, I said firmly. I've got to stop letting him get to me.

Together they sat at the window looking down at the town below. Look at all that traffic. I'm glad I'm not in it. What's that Mikey? I said, Look at all that traffic. Yeah, there is a lot. I'm glad I'm not in it. Mikey sighed. Honestly, Murray, you never listen to me.

Sally froze, her spoon halfway to her mouth, when she heard the crashing, tearing noise. The soup slopped back into the bowl. Both her daughters sat rigidly, listening. Her husband, Peter, reacted more quickly. Pushing his chair back from the table he moved to the door and stood looking out across the yard. Half guessing the reason for it, he stared at the rising cloud of smoky dust that was coming from behind the line of trees on the hill. He listened, straining to hear any further sounds from that direction, but there was only silence.

Pulling on his boots, Peter gave instructions to his family, who were now with him at the door. "Someone's come off the road. Sally-the mobile phone! You two- blankets! Bring them over as fast as you can."

Then he was gone, running across the yard and over the field to the trees and the dust cloud. As he got nearer, he could see the overturned bus; the back wheel still slowly moving and the smoky dust settling back on to it.

By the time the emergency services arrived Sally and the girls were handing round hot drinks they had brought from the house to dazed but grateful passengers.

"The ones who need your help most are over here," she told them, pointing to four passengers who were lying on the ground under the blankets.