‘I guess we’re leaving the money,’ said Nadeem, as he hurriedly wrung out a cloth and wrapped it around his face.

‘We’re leaving the money,’ she said.

They’d done all they could. They’d started by searching for fire extinguishers. Malik had spotted one near the toilets and had run to fetch it. ‘What now?’ he’d said, picking it up, ready to shoot. ‘One of these is not going to be enough to get us through there.’ They looked towards the screen of fire spreading towards them from the front of the restaurant.

Jia scoured the room for something else that could help, her eyes landing on a pile of tablecloths. She’d moved swiftly, throwing them to her cousins. ‘Quick, take these to the toilets and soak them in cold water.’

The sinks were small, so they’d used the toilet bowls too, Malik and Nadeem soaking the cloths, Idris and Jia running back and forth to the dining room with them. Jia wrapped the first one carefully around her face, then ran down the short corridor to the kitchen and placed another at the foot of the doors in attempt to reduce the steady stream of smoke. The paint on the outside was bubbling and she knew it wouldn’t be long before the doors gave way.

Then she joined Idris, throwing more of the wet tablecloths over the smaller fires bursting up from the sparks of flame burning at the restaurant windows and door. They sizzled as they landed, quenching the flames beneath them and forming a white pathway.

When they ran out of tablecloths, they pulled more from the tables. Eventually Idris had signalled to Jia that it was time to go. Some of the flames had been doused but they’d soon be back and the smoke was getting thicker and more toxic, the temperature unbearable. If they didn’t hurry, all their efforts would be undone. That was when they’d run back to the toilets to get the others.

Now they stood at the door, as ready as they’d ever be to face the flames.

‘OK?’ she said. Nadeem and Malik nodded. ‘Stay close to the ground and follow us.’

She pulled the cloth back up over her mouth and nodded at Idris, who opened the door. Then they moved at speed, crouching low and holding on to the back of each other’s shirt as they traversed the dining room, Idris at the front, spraying the extinguisher. The kitchen door was ablaze now and smoke poured down the corridor unimpeded, stinging their eyes and making it impossible to see. They felt for the pathway of damp, steaming tablecloths, following it towards what they hoped was the front door.