“I’m so thirsty, miss. I got to have a drink; can you get us one, miss?”

The others all joined in. A couple were crying, saying they’d never felt so thirsty, not ever. Abi looked round desperately. She felt like crying herself. Had any of this been Jonathan’s fault? He’d been on the phone; had he lost control? Had she distracted him? Abi, don’t, don’t go down there. It had been an accident, that was all, a terrible, awful accident. Concentrate on water, water… How on earth was she going to find some water?

William was working his way down the field, skirting round a small spinney of young trees, carrying his containers, when he saw her: a young girl, very pretty, very dark, with wild black hair, stumbling along just above the ditch. She was crying silently.

“Hello, can I help? Are you involved in the crash; is someone with you hurt?”

She stared at him, her dark eyes filled with panic; then she shook her head and moved on, trying to run away from him through the long, uneven grass.

William shrugged and continued on his journey. She seemed all right-not hurt, anyway. He could see more pressing claims on his attention. Odd, though; but then, this was a very odd day.

The little boys’ distress and thirst were growing. Abi began to feel panicky. She mustn’t panic; it would be fatal-it would spread. She saw a woman walking towards her with a golden retriever, and pointed him out to the boys by way of distraction; they crowded round, stroking him, asking the woman what his name was.

“Jasper.”

“That’s me brother’s name,” said Shaun. “My mum’s boyfriend says it’s a poof’s name.”

“Oh, really?” said Abi, smiling at the woman. She didn’t smile back; indeed, she glared at Shaun. “I don’t suppose you’ve got any water?” Abi said. “By any amazing chance?”

“If I had any I’d give it to this poor fellow,” the woman said firmly. “He’s beside himself. We’re going to try in the woods.”

“OK,” said Abi carefully, “fine.”

“But I need a drink!” One of the biggest boys was getting angry now. “I really, really need one. I’ll die if I don’t. We all will.”

“No, you won’t,” said Abi. “People can live for quite a long time without water; you’d be surprised. However thirsty you are.”

“But, miss-”

How on earth could she get them a drink? How could normal life have disappeared so swiftly?

And then: “Need any help?” said a voice. And like some kind of divine visitation came a man, very tanned, with brown, rather shaggy hair, wearing baggy-and filthy-jeans, a checked shirt that had clearly left the shop many years earlier, and some very heavy dusty boots. And he was carrying-yes, he was actually carrying two very large plastic containers. Containing-

“Oh, my God!” said Abi. “Water! How amazing. Can’t be true.”

“It certainly is. Was last time I looked, anyway.” He grinned at her; he had the widest, sweetest grin she had ever seen. She smiled back.

“And I’ve even got some paper cups. Here, kids. Careful, one at a time-you’ll knock it over if you’re not careful. That’s better.” He held out a cup to Abi. “You want some?”

“No, no,” she said, “they really need it.”

“So do you, by the look of you. That’s a horrible cut on your head. How did you do that?”

“Oh, I hit it as we stopped. It was pretty sudden.”

“Yeah? It looks nasty. Here, take a cup. Let me-”

“Could I have some of that? For the dog; he’s desperate. I’ve got a container-here, look.”

It was the woman Abi had approached earlier.

“Oh, I don’t think so,” said the young man. “There’re a lot of people here in terrible need. Sorry about the dog, but he’ll be OK. Get him into the shade; I would-Hello, young chap,” he said to a toddler clinging to his father’s hand. “Need some water? Here we are.”

He stood there on the roadside doling out his precious water, cup by cup, firmly refusing second comers.

“Just for now it’s got to be one cup per person Not fair otherwise. Only person who can have two is Shaun here, because he’s not very well.”

“Where did you come from, then?” said Abi, looking at him in a kind of wonder.

“I live in a farm, just behind the hill there. The chopper’s on our land. I saw it happen, actually.” His voice was very quiet, rather slow, surprisingly posh. You didn’t expect farmers to be posh. “I was standing up there with the cows, just moved them, and there it was, everything breaking up. Or seeming to be.”

“Yes? So what… what happened exactly? Do you think?”

“Well, the lorry just swerved, really hard, and went through the barrier. No apparent reason. And then the load just… well, it was as if it had burst, came out of the doors at the back, the sides, out the top even-did you see any of it?”

“Not-not really. I… We were just ahead of the… of it all.”

“Scary, isn’t it? Terrible things, accidents. One minute everything’s perfectly fine, under control, the next… well, it’s not. Lives ruined, all these people hurt through no fault of their own. Through nobody’s fault, really.”

“Yes. Terrible.” She smiled at him and sipped the water, the cool, wonderful water. She ought to get some to Jonathan, really.

Mary looked across at Colin; he was sitting on the bonnet of the car, lighting yet another cigarette. That was his sixth since the accident. Not that it mattered, and it was probably helping him, but she wished she could do something so simple that would make her feel better. She felt terrible, sick and exhausted, her neck and her head very painful. Colin had found her some painkillers, but they hadn’t really taken the edge off the pain.

The people in the car behind, Janet and John Brown, which had rammed into her, were being very kind too. The driver, a man, had hurt his wrist very badly, but apart from that they were fine.

They had produced a rug from the car, some picnic chairs and a thermos, sat Mary down, given her a cup of tea. Which had been very welcome, but if she’d thought a bit longer, she would have refused it. It had gone straight through her…

She looked at her watch: nearly five. Just an hour until Russell’s plane landed. Obviously now she couldn’t possibly get there. What would he think; what could she do…? Keep calm, Mary, keep calm.

She was desperate now to go to the lavatory. She wondered if she could enlist Janet Brown’s help, ask her to hold up the blanket, perhaps, but decided she didn’t know her well enough.

Her bladder stabbed at her; it was agony. And something else stabbed at her: the horribly familiar sense of squeezing pressure on her chest that signalled an attack of angina.

She felt absolutely terrified suddenly. For her nitrate spray was in the crumpled boot of the car…

Mary began to cry.