‘Dorothy was sure you’d find matches,’ said Greta. ‘Men always have matches.’

We went back down to fetch some water. This time, two of the stronger women came with us.

The rain had stopped and the clouds dispersed while the food was cooking. The sun came out, high in the sky, which meant, so the women said, that it was the middle of the day. We ate that first meal sitting in little groups around the fire, whereas, in the cell, each woman used to take her food and sit anywhere. There was plenty of food and, for the first time, there was some left over in the pots, which made the women joke:

‘We’ll get fat!’

‘After dieting so strictly for years, we’ll lose the benefit!’

It was only much later that they explained to me why they found that so funny. Strangely, these women who now laughed so readily hadn’t joked yet since our escape. I was always solemn, and hadn’t changed. I suppose they’d been overwhelmed by the successive shocks.

‘What time is it?’ Greta asked me.

And I was surprised to hear myself answer that it was ten o’clock at night. It was just over three hours since the siren had gone off, and at that moment, we hadn’t been awake for long. So it was true that we hadn’t been following the usual pattern of day and night.

‘You’d better put your watch right,’ laughed Anthea.

‘How do I know where to start?’

‘We’ll watch the sunset this evening. Take that as your starting point and tell us how many hours have gone by at sunset tomorrow. From one sunset to another is a whole day, isn’t it?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Dorothy. ‘Doesn’t it depend on the time of year?’

They launched into a confused argument that went completely over my head. The days got longer in summer, shorter in winter, but from one sunset to another was always twenty four hours, wasn’t it? None of them was completely sure, not even Anthea who was the cleverest. I soon stopped listening to them. Anyway, sooner or later, night would fall: where were we going to spend it?

Of course, there was no question of going back and sleeping in the prison, and the thought of staying close to the cabin wasn’t very appealing. I’d watched the sun’s progress, and I had the impression that we had a few hours before us until dark. I suggested going down to fetch food and blankets, and then moving away. But in which direction? What if the guards came back? How could we predict where they’d come from when there was no sign of any road? Besides, how had they left? Anthea said there were no beds in the rooms. This provoked a fresh torrent of questions, but Dorothy sensed the impending chaos and reminded the women of what she considered the fundamental question: if we agreed to move away, we had to decide which way to go. So how should we decide? Anthea pointed south: in that direction there was a slight dip in the ground that could conceal us.