It was Saturday morning and I woke up early. Still feeling a little tired, I gave out a loud yawn—haaah. I quickly got dressed and went downstairs to the kitchen. Kitty cat crawled around my feet and let out a soft, welcoming meow.

There was a pot of coffee bubbling on the stove, going blub... blub. It smelled strong and sweet. I leaned over and took a big, deep sniff—snnnnf.

Mummy looked up and said, “Sorry Niamh, there’s no bread!”

“That is okay,” I replied. In a determined voice, I added, “I will go get some!”

“But it looks like it will rain,” said a concerned Mummy.

“Not a problem! I can put on my rain hat, raincoat, and rain boots. I will just take the bus and be back in no time!” I cheerfully said. I zzzzipped up my coat, snapped the plastic buttons, and heard the waterproof fabric shhhk together. I flumped my rain hat onto my head with a soft thwack, then sluupped my feet into my rubber boots until they hit the soles with a solid thud.

“I am going!” I called out.

“Take care. Make sure you have your phone and call me, if need be,” said Mummy. I picked up the shopping bag from the coat hook. I opened the front door with a mechanical click and a heavy clack, my keys rrrattling in the lock as the dry hinges gave a tiny creak. Then, I pulled it shut behind me with a firm thud.

As I walked to the bus stop, it started to rain. The first heavy drops hit my rain hat—plip, plop. Large puddles quickly formed on the pavement, and my rain boots made funny sounds as I tried to walk fast to catch the bus. My steps echoed with a messy splash, splosh, splish, followed by a wet squish, squelch, slosh in the deeper water.

I arrived at the bus stop to find the shelter completely full. Mrs Cotswold, Just Joan, and Mrs Pepperpot were all huddled together, chatting away. Their voices were a lively mix of cackles and chuckles, punctuated by a disapproving tsk-tsk and a breathless wheeze. Tall Tony arrived next. Even though he had his headphones on, everyone could hear his music blurting out in a tinny tizz-tizz, a muffled thump-thump, and a fuzzy buzz.

In a very loud voice, Babysitter Mary yelled, “The Butter Box is coming!”

The big yellow bus bounced aggressively along the road. It chug-chug-chugged through the downpour, its suspension hitting a pothole with a loud clank-thump-thud, sending a massive swoosh of puddle water splashing sideways. Finally, it came to a grinding halt. The brakes released a sharp ssssssssssss just as the wet brake pads let out a piercing screech!

Mr Fitzgibbons opened the door and said cheerfully, “Good morning, everyone. What a terrible day. Hop on board!” We all stepped onto the bus one by one, pressing our cards against the electronic scanner. Ping! Ping! Ping! Ping! We all took our seats.

Farmer Ted was already sitting near the front. He was taking a chicken to the vet, and the bird was not happy to be trapped in a cage. It frantically kicked the wire mesh and erupted into a panicked bok-bok-bok, bawk, cluck-cluck-cluck-bawk! Farmer Ted whispered to us that the chicken may have eaten something it shouldn’t have, but the vet would make it better. Everyone nodded sympathetically.

The bus was just about to pull away when we heard a distant yell from Curator Charlie: “Stop!” Mr Fitzgibbons quickly operated the air system to open and close the doors again—psss-ssshh, clack-thud. Charlie tapped his card with a quick ping, and with a warning beep, the bus was on its way.

The road was rough, and the bus boinged and bounced violently over the ruts. Every time we hit a bump, the passengers literally launched into the air, boinging up and down and sliding from side to side on the vinyl seats with a loud swoosh, swoosh. It wasn’t too long before Mr Fitzgibbons yelled, “Market Square!” Everyone got off the bus and hurried in different directions.

The downpour was getting heavier, and the wind began to blow. The storm pitter-pattered against the storefronts, thwacked against umbrellas, and howled through the alleyways. Everyone tried to get out of the rain to stay dry. I rushed straight into Baker Bunty’s shop. Mummy had already phoned ahead to place our order and pay.

Bunty greeted me with a friendly smile. “Hello Niamh,” she said warmly. “I will be with you in a second, take a seat.”