From news helicopters, the crowds made spectacular symbols of protest. From the ground, it was no fun. People squashed against walls and shopfronts, shunted by tetchy police. Stations, shops and cafes closed. No toilets and nowhere to sit.

People were still arriving at four o’clock, but more were trying to leave. Georgia got her backpack entangled with a bewildered Aussie tourist. When she’d sorted that, Maya and everyone else from her school had vanished. The phone network couldn’t handle a million handsets in a few square miles, so she couldn’t call or text to get back in touch.

Georgia’s calves ached after being on her feet for four hours. She faced a lonely four-kilometre walk to Euston, a crush at the station and a packed train home, so she was relieved to spot a SAG banner held by a woman she’d been introduced to outside the Red Parrot bookshop before the town hall protest. She couldn’t remember her name, but then she saw Zac was there too.

Zac felt like the best thing to happen all day. He wore combat boots, ripped jeans and a torso-hugging T-shirt with the Health Workers Union logo on the front and FIGHT CUTS on the back.

‘What are the odds in this crowd?’ Zac asked Georgia.

He gave her a hug as Kamila, Gerard and the other SAGgers said hello.

‘How’s it been?’ Zac asked. ‘We saw your BBC interview on the big screen at Piccadilly Circus.’

Georgia looked embarrassed as Zac showed her a photo he’d taken of her face, twenty metres tall, over a sea of protestors.

‘My feet hurt, and I’d give anything for a clean loo and a mug of tea,’ Georgia said.

Zac laughed. ‘You sound like your nan when we took her to the farmers’ market.’

‘I’m a bad revolutionary,’ Georgia confessed.

‘We’re all heading up to an Ethiopian restaurant in Russell Square,’ Zac said. ‘It’s a trek, but Kamila knows the owner and says it’s great. I’m sure there’s space if you’re interested.’

‘I didn’t know Ethiopian was a thing,’ Georgia said. ‘All I have is twenty quid, and I need six-eighty for my ticket home …’

‘Zac’s treat,’ he said. ‘I seriously don’t recommend going to the station. I’ve been to protests smaller than this and you still stand in a crush for three or four hours because every train is full. If you wait until ten, it’s usually died off.’

‘Ten!’ Georgia gawped, wary of her dad’s reaction, but also really wanting to hang out with Zac.

Georgia, Zac and eight other SAG members set off for Russell Square. They were led by Kamila, navigating with Google Maps, and Gerard, who was shirtless, painted orange and carrying a two-and-a-half-metre inflatable alligator.