“YOU MISSED IT, MARINA! THE PLANE’S GONE! AND WITH IT YOUR JOB AND YOUR BONUS! YOU’RE FIRED!” — HER BOSS YELLED DOWN THE PHONE, AS MARINA STOOD IN THE MIDDLE OF A TRAFFIC JAM, STARING AT THE OVERTURNED CAR SHE’D JUST PULLED SOMEONE ELSE’S CHILD FROM. SHE’D LOST HER CAREER, BUT FOUND HERSELF.

“YOU DIDN’T MAKE IT, KATHERINE! THE FLIGHT’S GONE! AND WITH IT, YOUR POSITION AND YOUR BONUS! YOU’RE FINISHED!” Her boss roared into the phone. Katherine stood in the middle of a backed-up A-road, staring at the overturned car from which shed just rescued someone elses child. Shed lost her career, but, in that piercing moment, found herself.

Katherine was the picture of a corporate high-flyer. Thirty-five, regional director. Ruthless, efficient, always available. Her life mapped to the minute in her Google calendar.

That morning, she was due to seal her most crucial deal of the yeara contract with a major Singaporean firm. She needed to be at Heathrow by 10:00.

She left with plenty of time. She never, ever cut things fine.

Speeding down the M25 in her sparkling new Range Rover, she rehearsed her presentation in her head.

Suddenly, about a hundred yards ahead, an old Ford Escort wobbled, clipped the verge, and flipped end over end into the embankment. It came to restwheels in the air, smoking.

Katherines foot stomped the brake by reflex.

Her mind clicked through the numbers: If I stop, Im late. This deal is worth millions. It will destroy me.

Other drivers slowed, filmed on their phones, and carried on.

Katherine checked the dash: 8:45. Time was pitifully tight.

She readied herself to drive on, to skirt the growing traffic knot, when she saw ita small hand, pressed to the upside-down window.

A tiny palm, wearing a red mitten.

Katherine swore, slammed the steering wheel, and veered onto the hard shoulder.

She ran in heels, sinking into banked snow.

Petrol fumes spilled from the Escort.

The drivera young manwas unconscious, blood matting his hair. In the back seat, a girl of about five sobbed beneath the tangled seatbelt.

Easy, darling, easy! Katherine shouted, yanking the jammed door.

The door refused to budge.

She grabbed a stone from the verge, smashed the windowglass raked her face, tore her expensive coat. She didnt care.

She pulled the little girl out, then, with the sudden help of a lorry driver, freed the young man.

Barely a minute later, the car burst into flames.

Katherine sat in the snow, clutching the crying child. Her hands shook, tights laddered, soot streaking her face.

Her phone throbbed with calls. Her boss.

Where are you?! Check-ins closing!

Im not coming, Mr Richards. Theres been an accident. I pulled people from a car.

I dont care who you dragged out! Youve lost the deal! Youre out! Hear me? Out of the industry!

Katherine ended the call.

The ambulance arrived twenty minutes later. The paramedic checked the casualties.

Theyll live. Youre their guardian angel, love. If you hadnt been there…

Next morning, Katherine woke up unemployed.

Her boss was true to his word. He didnt just sack herhe let it be known she was unreliable and hysterical. In their tight corporate world, that was the kiss of death.

She tried everywhere. Every door closed.

Her savings dwindled. The car loan for the very Range Rover shed been driving weighed heavy.

She spiralled into depression.

Why did I stop? she wondered in the bleak small hours. If Id just kept going, Id be in Singapore, sipping Prosecco. Instead, Ive lost everything.

A month later, a call came from an unknown number.

Katherine Smith? Its Andrew, from the Ford Escort.

His voice was soft, yet bright.

Andrew? How are you? And your daughter?

Were alive. Thanks to you. Katherine, wed love to see you. Please.

She visited them in a small council flat.

Andrew was still in a back brace. His wife, Helen, wept as she kissed Katherines hands. Little Daisy presented a drawinga crooked, joyous angel with black hair just like Katherines.

They shared tea and cheap biscuits.

I dont know how to thank you, Andrew said quietly. We havent any money… Im a mechanic, Helens a nursery assistant. But if theres anything we can do…

I need a job, Katherine said, managing a wry smile. I lost mine because of that morning.

Andrew paused in thought.

I know a chapbit eccentric, runs a farm out in the country. Hes after someone to manage the placenot muck out stables, but tackle the paperwork, get grants sorted, sort the logistics. Doesnt pay much, but you get a cottage. Fancy a try?

Katherine, who used to wince at mud on her shoes, agreed. There was nothing left to lose.

The place was sprawling but ramshackle. The owner, Uncle Jack, was all heart but useless with books.

Katherine rolled up her sleeves.

No more glossy boardroom tablejust a battered wooden desk. No Armani suitjeans and wellies.

She sorted the accounts, won subsidies, found customers. Within a year, the farm was thriving.

And she, strange as it seemed, was happy.

No office politics. No forced smiles.

Only the fragrance of milk and hay.

She learnt to bake bread, adopted a dog, and gave up her daily hour of makeup.

Most of all, she felt truly alive.

One day, a delegation rolled up from the city to source farm produce for the big London hotels.

Among themher old boss, Mr Richards.

He recognised her, eyed her jeans and wind-burnt face.

Well then, Katherine, he sneered, Look at you now. Queen of the muck heap? You couldve been on a board of directors. Bet you regret playing the heroine, dont you?

Katherine looked at him. And realised she didnt even feel disgust. Just nothing. Like throwing away a plastic cup.

No, Mr Richards, she smiled. I dont. That day, I saved two lives. And a thirdmy own. I saved myself from turning into you.

He snorted and strode off.

Katherine made her way to the cowshed, where a calf had just been born, its dewy nose nuzzling her palm.

Later, Andrew, Helen, and Daisy came by. Now firm friends, they barbecued, laughed together until dusk.

Katherine gazed at the starsenormous, dazzling, nothing like the city. She knew she was exactly where she belonged.

Sometimes you have to lose everything to find what really matters. Career, money, statustheyre only props, gone in a heartbeat. But compassion, a saved life, a clean consciencethose stay with you. Dont be afraid to turn off the main road when your heart says stop. It may be your lifes greatest turning point.