When the Bus Stopped

Chapter 1

Unlatching her glove box, Lucy Falkwell was ambushed by the contents: organic breath mints, a packet of henna, nga chumba scented dreadlock shampoo, a stray bra, scrunched up dark chocolate wrappers and - finally - her trusty dog-eared road atlas.

She was fishing the atlas out of the pile when a crisp voice interrupted her.

"Hello?"

Not expecting anyone on the empty alpine road, Lucy sat up with a tiny scream of alarm.

It was drowned out by the noise of her head contacting the bus' antiquated sun visor. THUNK.

Stars danced merrily across her vision, somewhere beyond the celestial bodies she could see him.

He was peering off somewhere down the road, like she wasn't worthy of his consideration.

Through the blur, his perfectly shaped mouth moved wordlessly. Lucy drew a deep and calming breath, resisting the temptation to dive out of the bus window lustfully at him.

Ugh, she shuddered. Her celibacy pact wasn't as simple as she'd hoped.

She'd made the pact the year before.

She'd been driving along peering at all the colourful lupins around Lake Tekapo, when she'd thought how lovely it would be to bring... And Lucy's mind had drawn a blank. Bring who? She searched desperately for a name in the collection of faces.

In the horrifying minutes which ensued, she'd realized if she kept dating her bedpost would start looking like a hungry crocodile had gnawed on it.

Going through a town a week meant there were plenty of chances to fall in love.

She'd had more than her fair share of promises and professions of love  — and the odd invitation to meet a mother — yet she had never heard five magic words.

'Can I come with you?'

If they wanted her they would follow her, everything else was just noise.

"A-hem?" He sounded annoyed.

"Sorry, what was that?"

The man ran a hand through his long brown curls in exasperation.

"I was asking if you were with the clean-up crew."

He still didn't make eye contact with her, but at least now he was addressing her cheek.

"I'm not really sure what you are talking about," Lucy admitted.

Where had he come from, this lone man? He was dressed in a suit with a briefcase clasped in his hand. He looked like he'd just wandered out of a stray office building.

Hearing chatter, Lucy turned toward the road in front of her.

Marching down the centre line, with a snowy mountain behind them, were a large gang of men dressed in black.

All of them were juggling large cameras and a boom, some were attempting to walk backwards.

In their midst a suggestive news reporter talked to the camera.

Lucy watched intently as the news reporter's hands flailed in the air.

"Was there a helicopter crash?" Lucy asked.

The man seemed suddenly on edge. "Oh, right. You must be looking for the Moonshine Manor."

Lucy wasn't listening. She gazed about, searching for helicopter debris.

"If that newsgirl would like them, I have some extra buttons in the back of my bus. I've got a green one that would be perfect for that shirt."

"What? Why?"