Shearson said, ‘It’s more than she deserved,’ as Ed climbed up behind the steering-wheel again.

Ed said, ‘I made love to her once, that’s all. Now, what are we going to do?’

‘Well, we’re going to have to be quick, and we’re going to have to be bold,’ said Shearson, leaning forward in his seat ‘We’re pretty reasonably armed, compared with most of that mob. Shotguns against clubs. So my suggestion is that we form up these wagons of ours into some kind of a flying wedge – drive straight through to the supermarket doors – and keep the looters at bay while we let the people inside get out and while we organise any able-bodied men to load up whatever food they can.’

Peter Kaiser ran his hand through his hair. ‘If you don’t mind my saying so, senator, that seems incredibly risky. There have to be seven or eight hundred people there. Maybe more.’

‘I know it’s risky,’ said Shearson, with exaggerated patience. ‘But consider the alternatives. Either we spend the next six months scrabbling for food like the rest of these poor wretches, or we load ourselves up with enough sustenance to keep ourselves independent and self-sufficient. And solvent, apart from anything else. Remember you can buy yourself a woman with a can of meat.’

Ed said, ‘I’ll have to go ask the rest of them. And the women and children will have to stay behind here someplace.’

Shearson twisted himself around in his seat. ‘There’s a hotel back there. That looks likely. Less chance of disturbing any irate and gun-happy householders. Now, I’d get moving if I were you. The way that supermarket’s burning, it doesn’t look like we’ve got ourselves a whole lot of time.’

It took Ed five minutes to persuade two out of the remaining three farmworkers in his convoy to join in a rescue attempt. One of them – Roy Guraing – had always had a soft spot for Season, and so he was pleased to volunteer. Nat Petersen was a little more reluctant, but he was single, and physically strong, and a good shot with a scatter-gun, and eventually Ed managed to talk him around. Jerry Stone wouldn’t go for anything. He had his wife and children with him, and in any case he thought Ed was crazy.

‘I’d rather throw myself into a volcano,’ he remarked. Ed shook his hand, said okay, and left him to look after the remaining two farm women, his wife, and his four children.

Ed went back to the Chevy, started her up, slammed the door, and said, ‘Ready? Peter – you cover the right side with the pump-gun. Senator – since you’re so handy with a .45 – you cover the left. Karen – keep your head down.’