I hit a child with my minibus this morning.

I hit a child with my minibus this morning.

I was following another car, and the boy just ran out from behind a parked car. There was nothing I could do. Fortunately it was just the wing mirror that caught him, and that is hinged and folded back, so apart from a sore shoulder no harm done. But that boy was only inches from death. I was only inches from losing my license, hence my career, hence my home, and probably my wife and family too.

So if my driving has calmed down such a lot this year, why does God reward me with such a serious accident? I suppose my reward is that the child is not dead.

Whose fault was it? Well, the kid ran out and there was nothing I could do. Was I driving with due care and attention? This is where your memory starts to play tricks on you. I am fairly sure that I was following – tailgating – another car, but then, had it turned off and was I accelerating away? I am fairly sure that I was not speeding – at the time I had not the slightest twinge of guilt and felt satisfied that I had been within the limit. But then, was I? Or had I crept up to 35mph?

It happened right outside the boy’s house, so I was able to take him straight there and hand him over to his Mum, explaining what had happened. She took the news very well considering, but I suspect the shock may only now be beginning to sink in. Since the boy seemed OK we did not report it to the police, but of course he may deteriorate during the day or the Mum may realise she has an opportunity to make a fast buck by suing me. I suppose that’s what insurance is for.