‘At least it’s not really half. Muslims are only, what, two or three per cent? And almost none of them are in Berkshire. It’s more likely that someone’ll lynch that chef.’

‘Oh God, isn’t that just exactly what would happen?’

‘Come on, it’s not him the Buckleburians would be after, if they were after anyone, is it?’ He failed to suppress a grin. ‘They can’t have ever met such a legion of horribles as us.’

‘I’ve never met such a legion of horribles as us.’

‘Oh, I don’t know. You’ve got your skinheads, your neo-Nazis, the KKK…’ She didn’t smile. ‘But it’s traditional, isn’t it? Callous hacks.’

‘I suppose I just don’t think journalists have to be as bad as their reputation.’

Will said smoothly, ‘Readers get the journalists they deserve.’

‘It’s more complicated than that.’

Will heard an implication that his thinking was simplistic, and was stung. ‘But the Beast is actually… What liberal Londoners hate about the Beast isn’t the Beast – it’s that it has the same opinions as most of the rest of the country, which Londoners actually hate. And it’s the majority of the country that doesn’t actually get heard, when they’re—’

He interrupted himself as the chain-link gates came into view. There were more armed policemen than before and they seemed nervier also. They clustered around the returning journalists, seeming almost angry with them and demanding to see their staff cards. As the chief leisurely brought his out, one asked what they’d been doing outside the compound anyway.

‘Oh, not much,’ the chief said blithely. ‘Uncovering a potential jihadi cell. What have you been up to?’

‘What?’ the policeman said stupidly.

‘They’re operating out of the pub in Bucklebury. The landlord’s running the whole thing, he’s got a bomber in the kitchen. Might be a good idea to check it out, don’t you think?’

Will caught Rosie’s eye and they shared a thought: the chief was too much sometimes. It wasn’t even funny. He went on, ‘Better be quick, lads. Every jihadi sleeper cell in England’ll have been activated by now. It’ll look pretty bad if you don’t even catch the one just up the road.’

The policemen looked at each other and while one went out of earshot to talk into his radio the others hustled the journalists through the gates. Rosie went ahead of Will and waited for him. Once he was through, they walked next to each other around the bend in the driveway. The buses had gone and the bunker was alone behind its tarmac. Anna said loudly, ‘Oh, that’s just fabulous. Now we can’t get back to London even if we want to. What a bunch of geniuses.’

Will and Rosie were dawdling. She said, ‘I don’t really want to go back in there till we have to.’