Moving OUT
Sarah’s whole life leapt over the back of the flatbed truck and landed in the road.
It tumbled end over end before hitting the tarmac, bursting and scattering its contents.
Horns sounded, alerting Sarah to what had happened. She glanced in the truck’s wing mirror, watching the box detonate, seeing the cars in their slipstream turn away from it. Then she screamed.
It was the teddy that did it. Ted had a ribbon round his neck, white paws and a serene expression. She’d had him since she was three. In the mirror, Sarah saw Ted bounce, before disappearing under the wheels of a bus.
‘Stop!’ Sarah cried. ‘It’s my stuff, it’s gone over the back of the truck!’
‘Well, I can’t very well stop now,’ the driver said tetchily. ‘The traffic’s busy.’
‘You can! Pull over, now!’
The driver indicated before heaving the truck onto the pavement, ignoring the angry beeping at their backs. He was a big, able man. When he had pulled up outside the flat, Sarah had thought his glum expression comical, like
