Kelly looked around and didn’t see any cause for concern. Except for the piles of litter, water bottles and other detritus from a large human gathering, there seemed to have been no problems. But that could change as they got on the move. She wouldn’t follow the march: that was a job for the transport and tactical police. But Callum and Josie were desperate to get involved. Johnny looked at Kelly; she knew that inside he was squirming.

‘Look, if you’re with them, what can happen?’ she said.

‘Please, Dad! We could have sneaked here anyway without telling you.’

‘She’s got a point,’ Ted said. As always, he stuck up for Josie.

Callum chipped in. ‘Come on, when do we ever get an opportunity to be involved in something like this? The TV cameras are everywhere, it’ll be talked about for years, and when your grandchildren ask you where you were when the people marched from Potton Park, what will you say?’ His question was directed towards Johnny, and everyone looked at him, waiting for his answer. It was a bold address, and Josie squeezed Callum’s arm. The tussle was over and the teenagers had won.

‘Call me!’ Kelly made them promise to keep in touch.

They said their goodbyes and Kelly and Rob made their way back to the estate. As they approached the flats, they heard Sharon’s voice over the mic in the distance. There was still a police presence, but the barricades were like ghost towns compared to an hour earlier. The press had accompanied the walkers and left only a skeleton presence behind with those unable to join in. The elderly, infirm or those otherwise incapacitated had stayed behind to cook, tidy up and make more banners in preparation for the return of the protesters. There was no plan to pack up and go home: this was just the beginning.

It was a weird sensation entering streets where previously there had been throngs of people giving interviews, singing, dancing, and shouting through loudhailers. Now there was quiet and an eerie sense of desertion.

It was an opportunity for Kelly to call the solicitor in Manchester. She’d been sent the production order by email. She paced up and down near the main barricade outside Wordsworth Towers and waited to be connected.

Rob stamped his feet to keep warm and watched his boss make the call. When she’d finished, she turned to him, and he was shocked at the expression on her face.

‘I need to call the counter-corruption intelligence unit.’

‘Boss?’