Jenny stared out at it, and the mass of people that had gathered around it. It seemed in the last couple of hours, since . . .

… since then the number of people out there had grown alarmingly. She guessed there must be a couple of hundred of them milling around outside.

Ruth.

She’d hardly got to know her really. They had spoken a bit this morning, and yesterday walking along the hard shoulder, but she knew very little about her. She’d perhaps learned more about her in those last moments outside, when Ruth had held a mob at bay for a couple of minutes with nothing but the force of her personality.

She was probably not the sort of person Jenny would have mixed with, done lunch with, back in normal times, but right now Jenny would have traded in every last one of her upwardly mobile friends, past and present, to have someone as Bolshie, loudmouthed and downright ballsy as Ruth, by her side.

She looked out at the Dante-esque scene before her. It looked like some sort of satanic cult gathering. She expected to see hooded and robed figures calling things to order, and some young virgin, raised on an inverted crucifix over the fire.

Of course, it was the dancing flames coming from the fire that lent the scene such a disturbing aura. She reminded herself they were normal people, just very frustrated and hungry normal people.

She looked around at Mr Stewart’s staff. She could see they were frightened; staring at the scene outside and exchanging muted comments in Polish, Romanian, Cantonese. She realised that for them - unable to understand a lot of what had been going on over the last few days, and knowing they were so obviously outsiders - this must have been even more terrifying.

Paul wandered over to stand beside her. ‘That doesn’t look good,’ said Paul. ‘When you get the mob starting to light fires, it doesn’t take long for buildings to start burning down.’

‘They won’t try and set this place on fire, surely? It would destroy all the food and water they’re after.’

Paul shook his head. ‘I don’t know. Maybe they’re too pissed off to care about that now. Maybe thirst is driving them a bit loopy.’

Yes, they had to be bloody thirsty out there.

It had been a very warm week since Monday; hot even, at times. And now, there was no longer any running tap-water. She had noticed earlier this afternoon when she’d tried to flush the toilet. They had to be getting thirsty outside, and other than tap-water, cans or bottles, what else could they drink? She’d not noticed any nearby rivers or reservoirs. And anyway, the state of most waterways these days, thick with foam and floating condoms - you’d need to be bloody desperate first.

Meanwhile, inside the pavilion, they had fridge-cold bottled water, hundreds of cans of Pepsi and Fanta glistening with dew-drops of condensation, cartons of fruit juice, even tubs of Ben and Jerry’s ice-cream, for crying out loud.

‘Yup,’ said Paul quietly, ‘thirst makes people do a whole load of crazy things.’

Jenny looked at him, wishing he hadn’t said that. She looked back out again, at the milling crowd around the bonfire and then noticed that someone was standing on something, and addressing them. Jenny watched the person gesturing, shouting. Although she couldn’t make out what was being said, she could guess.

She could just make out the raised voice drifting across the crowded car-park towards them. It had that unmistakable, shrill, humourless tone - it was the platinum-blonde woman. That skinny, hard-faced bitch, in her vest top and tracksuit bottoms, those long nails … and those thin lips stretched across those snarling teeth.

Platinum Blonde seemed to have won over the people out there. Not good. She was sure many of those people simply wanted to break in, grab some food and water and go home, that’s all. But the blonde, she’d want to make an example of someone.

Me probably.

‘They’re going to get in here tonight. Aren’t they?’

Paul looked out at the crowd. ‘Yeah. I don’t think they’re going to be satisfied just throwing a few bricks and stones at this place. They need to get in tonight … they’re getting desperate.’

‘What if we throw some water out to them?’

A wry smile spread across his mouth. ‘Yeah, I’m sure that’ll placate them. And off they’ll trot back home.’

Jenny ignored his sarcasm. ‘So what do you suggest we do?’

He looked furtively over his shoulder before speaking. ‘I suggest we leave before it all kicks off. As in, pretty bloody soon.’

She glanced at the staff, huddled together anxiously in the foyer, talking in hushed, frightened tones. Mr Stewart, meanwhile, was nowhere to be seen. He had retired to his office a couple of hours earlier. She hadn’t seen him since.

‘What? We can’t abandon them. Look at the state of them.’

‘And? They’re not my responsibility, nor are they yours. I want to get home, and I don’t particularly want to get caught up in this fucking mess.’

‘It was your bloody idea to stay!’

‘Yeah, well, guess what? I got that wrong. This is looking nasty and I suggest we sneak out whilst there’s a chance.’

‘And leave them?’ she nodded towards the others.

‘It sounds pretty shitty, but yeah.’

Jenny shook her head. ‘I’m guessing you’re a bit of a selfish bastard in normal life, aren’t you?’

He shrugged. ‘Call me selfish, but I just don’t want to be lynched by the mob, all right?’ he said. ‘I just know we can’t take on all these poor sods. They have to look after themselves. We have to put ourselves first. That’s how things are now, I’m afraid. Who do you want to save? These strangers, these people who you’ve known for five minutes? Or your family?’

Jenny watched the silhouette of Platinum Blonde as she stirred up the crowd milling around the burning car.

‘It all came undone so quickly. Just a few days,’ she gestured towards those outside, ‘and look at us.’

Paul nodded as he watched the people outside. ‘I suppose, when the rules go, no matter which country you live in, we’re all the same. We’re just a few square meals, a power-cut, a sip of water away from doing things we never dreamed we would, from being a bunch of cavemen.’

Outside something was beginning to happen. Platinum Blonde had finished saying her piece and had stepped down off her box and merged with the milling crowd.

‘Shit, I think they’re about to do whatever it is they’ve been planning,’ muttered Paul. ‘We need to find a way out now.’

The thought of that woman breaking in to the service station and finding her sent a chill through Jenny. Paul was right, they had to think of themselves right now. Guilt, self-reproach, introspection - that could come later when there was time.

‘Find a way out? Where? How?’

He turned away from the perspex wall, looking back at the dimly lit interior of the pavilion. The emergency generators still running the food freezers were also supplying power to a few muted emergency wall lamps towards the back of the area. ‘My guess is there’ll be a trade entrance at the rear somewhere, maybe we’ll get lucky and no one’s thought to watch the back of this place.’

The crowd outside began to approach them. Jenny noticed some were carrying containers; buckets, bottles. She backed away from the perspex wall as they came round the front of the truck and squeezed into the gap between the truck and the wall. They peered through the scuffed surface, shouting angrily as they made their way along the narrow space towards the locked revolving door. The first to get there was holding a two-litre plastic bottle of pop. There was a three or four inch gap between the revolving door’s frame, and the door panel of one of the segments. He pushed his arm through the gap and poured something out of the bottle on to the floor inside.

The smell wafted through almost instantly.

‘Petrol,’ said Paul. ‘They’re going to burn the doorway down. That won’t take long to melt. Let’s stop dicking around and go.’

Jenny looked once more at the frightened huddle of staff. Paul grabbed her arm.

‘No!’ he said quietly. ‘If you tell them we’re going out the back, they’ll all get up and follow us. Those people outside will see that and suss what’s going on.’

He started towards the rear of the pavilion, pulling her arm. ‘Come on.’

She reluctantly followed him, looking back over her shoulder at the doorway. Several more of the crowd had squeezed their arms through the gap and poured the contents of their containers into that segment. The reek of petrol was that much stronger.

Then she saw Platinum Blonde standing at the front of the truck holding a burning stick in one hand, and peering through the scuffed perspex wall, her face pushed up against it.

She’s looking for me.

Jenny felt an even greater surge of fear take hold of her. For some reason, that woman had focused on her, as if Jenny personified somehow the desperate predicament they were all in.

I really … really, don’t want her to get hold of me.

She turned back to look at Paul. ‘Okay, okay, let’s go.’