Water was leaking out under the bonnet and steaming off something on the way out. For some reason the horn was bleating, and there was a loud clattering from under the bonnet, where I suppose the fan was hitting something bent out of shape.

My first thought was to check if the driver was OK, but before I could get there, two men ran over from the other car and yanked the door open. My second thought was ‘wow, that was fast. But then again, they did clip his rear wheel’. My third thought was ‘why are they dragging him out that way, and… oh crap, I’m fairly sure the treatment for whiplash is not to heave the victim off a bridge’.

At that point, my concern for his safety started to be elbowed aside by my concern for my safety. The two men stopped peering over the side of the bridge and turned towards me. The only sensible thing to do was leg it. I ran for the end of the bridge. All I could hear was the sound of my own breathing and the smack of my soles on the pavement, slowing as I reached the embankment.