The Day I Almost Died

A serious accident

Scene of the impact. The collision occurred right where the car is

Tuesday mid-morning, many years ago. I’m at the home of my ex-wife, and about to set off to do a gardening job for a friend. I sip coffee and I notice on the kitchen table several stickers from a cereal pack that feature various Mr Men characters. “I’ll have this one,” I say, picking up Mr Bump, the accident-prone member of the group who has a permanent bandage round his head, and another around his midriff.

I finish my coffee and say goodbye, and I stick Mr Bump to the handlebars of my red bicycle as a sort of ironic mascot. As I set off on the three mile ride ahead, I am completely unaware that my mascot is, in fact, a chillingly accurate omen.

I come down a hill onto a roundabout, and, as there is no traffic to be seen, I dart quickly onto a long slightly right-bending stretch of dual carriageway. There is an incline further up this road, so maintaining the speed of my downhill burst, I go along at a fair old lick, gripping the upper part of the handlebars. Ahead of me a double-decker bus is crawling away from a bus stop. I’m gaining on it, but the bus’s gradual acceleration takes it away from me so I’ve no need to slow down.

Then I see a single flash of the right indicator on the bus. It pulls over into the outside lane and right ahead of…