Tim Vicary


A level 3 Oxford Bookworms Library graded readers. Written for Learners of English by Tim Vicary.

London: November.

Terrorists blow up the Queen’s coach outside Parliament. The Queen escapes, but five people are killed, and forty others badly hurt – ordinary, innocent people, like Alan Cole, the Queen’s coachman, who loses his leg in the bombing. And for Alan and his daughter Jane there is more terror to come, in the search for the truth behind the bombing. Will the terrorists be caught and brought to justice?

But what kind of justice? What can give Alan Cole his leg back, or give life back to people who have been blown to pieces by a bomb?
70 printed pages



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    b7431924372has quoted4 months ago
    you mean?’
    Alan sighed. ‘Well, yesterday they came to ask me about the night before the bombing. I went back to the Mews at about ten o’clock that night, you know, to look at a horse with a bad leg. I often do that. They asked if I saw anything strange, or looked at the coach.’
    ‘And what did you tell them?’
    Alan looked angry. ‘What do you think, Jane? Of course I saw nothing strange! I was looking at the horse, not the coach. And we were only there half an hour.’
    ‘We, Dad?’ Jane asked. ‘Was someone with you?’
    Alan hesitated. ‘Well, yes … a lady friend of mine, Anna. You haven’t met her, Jane, but I’ve told her about you. She’s nice, you’ll like
    Yaoquan Fenghas quoted2 years ago
    There were people everywhere, trying to take photos. Jane saw a woman with red-brown hair behind the American man, pressing the button of her camera. That’s stupid, Jane thought; she can only see the backs of people’s heads there. The woman shook her camera angrily; there seemed to be something wrong with it. The American woman pulled Jane forward, laughing happily. ‘Come on,’ she said, ‘let’s get to the front! Use that video, Harry!’

    Alan Cole stopped the coach outside Parliament, and sat there, quietly holding the horses. A man opened the coach door, and Prince Charles and the Duke of Edinburgh got out. Then the Queen got out. She was wearing a long white dress, and carrying a gold handbag. She walked slowly towards the entrance to the building.

    ‘Excuse me, please,’ the woman with red-brown hair said. ‘I must get closer.’ She pushed past Jane and held out her small black camera.

    ‘Oh, all right,’ Jane said. ‘But … my God!’

    There was a loud BANG! Jane saw a bright white light in front of her eyes, and felt a terrible hot wind on her face. The wind threw her backwards, and she fell to the ground with a lot of other people. For a moment she lay there, not thinking, not seeing.

    Her eyes were open but she saw nothing. Only … blue sky. She heard nothing. Only … silence. Her body felt no pain. But she could smell something. Smoke.
    Julio Ignacio Olave Cortéshas quoted2 years ago
    to take hold of something quickly and violently

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