MARY MARTIN ATS DESPATCH RIDER, AGED 24 BY EMILY HIBBS
“
W
atch out!” I cried, squeezing the brakes as hard as I could. Eva jumped out of the way of my motorcycle just in time, toppling over into the mud with a squelch. I skidded to a halt, swung off the bike and rushed over to help her up. “Why did you run out in front of me?” I asked, hefting Eva on to her feet. “You could have been flattened!” Far from looking put out, Eva’s eyes were alight with excitement. “Sorry,” she said, not sounding sorry in the slightest. “But we’ve
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