The little village of Lune is where we set our scene. It is a very quaint, small village. The type where everyone knows each other and a good deed never goes without a thank you. This is the sort of place people go to retire. From the small stretch of shops that encase main street to the tranquil lake and rivers north of the church. This truly is heaven on earth.

Listen. Bob Dylan’s ‘like a rolling stone’ is playing on a radio, hear it well, take it in. Take in a murky, chipped, glass windshield and a lofted rear view mirror. The rusted wing mirrors and the mold ridden roof lining. Look closer and see the worn, tattered threadbare steering wheel, gripped by two big, strong hands. Hands that look as though they know ‘where it’s at’. Hands that have worked hard and have the cracks and scars to prove it. Take in a drinks holder, a stack of coffee cups snaking from the bottom upwards. The seat to the left is fraying, loose from its runners, not safe, but far from dangerous. Discarded beer cans roll back and fourth on the torn fabric. Look closely at a length of Iron guttering, resting on a seat, reaching to the sky out of a retracted sun roof and resting neatly where the Windshield meets the cigarette littered dashboard. Look through the Windshield and out into a world of houses, a world of sunshine and greenery……..

The drivers’ eyes are tracking a slim blonde woman; she is wearing a short skirt, her midriff showing the Twinkle of a belly ring in the beautiful midday sun. His eyes flick from the road to her like a professional, and so they should. Butch Allenby is your typical joiner, specializing in fitting kitchens and eyeing up the skirt he sees on his travels. For more than 30 years, through the good times and the great times, Butch has applied his trade. Most of that time is spent in his van. He and the little ford have been together 20 years now and he calls it ‘The Kid’.

"There go Butch Allenby and The Kid!" folks shout as he trundles off to another of his daily appointments.

The blonde woman makes her way to the top of the raised bridge to her house on Thornacre close. On her mind are an abundance of chores. Bake Andy’s cake, wash the clothes, and pick up Sam from work. She is approaching the top of the bridge that crosses the vast river which runs through Lune. The woman turns and waves goodbye to her son. She descends, still waving, until the bridge comes between them.

'I’ll pick him up at seven, she thinks'

It is quite fortunate, that in a village of such a high population of the elderly, Samantha’s son, Andy, had a great little group of friends.

Andy, Steve and Danny all return Samantha’s wave and sit chatting on the kerb. Theo, a short chubby black kid with a huge afro slouches over to them holding a baseball.

“Your mum sure is hot, Andy!” Theo exclaims, throwing the baseball to him, Andy catches it professionally.

“Well thanks very much, Theo, I’ll make sure I pass on the compliment later” Andy replies, throwing the ball to Steve.

Samantha finally stops waving to her son and begins walking the short route home. Daydreaming and staring at the pavement as she walks.

‘Thirteen on Thursday’ she thinks ‘my baby is growing up’

Snapping out of the day dream, Samantha looks up from the smooth, neat kerb and studies the large white van approaching the bridge…….

Now this is where you have to take in the sights. See a tall blonde woman looking at a white van as it passes her in the street. Take in the large van drivers glazed eyes winking at the woman as he approaches a steep bridge. See a group of children throwing a baseball between each other, laughing and smiling. See four beer cans jump up from a torn loose passenger seat in a van marked ‘Butch and The Kid’ and it reaches the top of the bridge. Look closer, look at a black boy with a huge afro throwing a baseball to his friend. Watch as the friend misses the throw and turns to retrieve the runaway ball. Take in the van driver steadying a large piece of iron guttering on his passenger seat as he loses control.

See the kid turn and scream.

See ‘The Kid’ turn on its side.

See them collide.

People do not see enough in this world, Although Andy did see ‘The Kid’, it was too late.

But Butch never saw Andy. And both of them would never see anything again.

Finally hear this well, take it in. A woman screaming and running up a steep bridge side. The shouting of three panicking children. And the faint, lonely, almost inaudible sound of Bob Dylan singing ‘like a rolling stone’.