TPR and I gave up walking and caught the 38 bus – bang on time at 17:01 – for the rest of our journey.

I sat at the back with a young Polish man who marvelled at the standing stones and stone circles strewn across the Lewisian moorland. TPR chose to travel at the front, next to the bus driver.

I was fully conscious at the time of the accident, and throughout its aftermath. I remember the sharp bend in the road, the bright yellow gorse along the verge, and the screams of the passengers as the vehicle overturned. I was the first to walk free of the wreckage and dial 999.

As for TPR, he was crushed to death alongside the bus driver.