“And none of this even factors in what’s happening at the supermarket,” said the sheriff. “From what I hear, he’s gone into that trance in the same darned aisle every day since he’s been here.”

“But it’s not just him, is it?” said Peter. “It’s happening all over town.”

“But your boy and his friends are the only ones who ain’t reached out for help about it.”

Peter let go of the fork and sat there feeling the steam rising up off the plate, all sticky and warm across his face compared to the coolness of the trailer.

“I’m sorry.”

“Son, you don’t have to apologise.”

“But—”

“We’re all under a lot of pressure here and we only have ourselves to figure this whole mess out. Now, if you don’t mind, I might just have another cigarette. And you don’t mind, do you?”

Peter looked up. “Well—”

“I mean,” said the sheriff striking a match against the table, “it is terrible table manners while you two boys are still eating, but I really thought those TV sets were going to brighten up everyone’s days and—”

“And Cooper pissed all over it.”

The sheriff offered Peter a smile. “That he did. I mean, God only knows what folks are expected to watch on them. Just a bunch of Lucille Ball and Friends reruns sandwiched between five hours of infomercials, most likely. But we did get them for free. We all did. From what I hear, dozens of companies reached out to all the communities across the whole of the Escape Programme, offering to be our official sponsor. Everyone just wants to get back to how it used to be.”

Peter set his fork down and listened to the billboard just outside the trailer moaning softly. “They did?”

“They sure did,” said the sheriff, drawing deeply on his cigarette. “They didn’t take much persuading at all. Half of the world’s population is gone, but God bless Uncle Sam, everybody’s back in business.”

Peter stayed with the sound of the billboards creaking for a while and eventually the clatter of busy knives and forks picked up again. Every now and then he felt the sheriff’s eyes on him. But he couldn’t tell if he was trying to find more small talk or push past all that in the hope Peter would explain the real reason for his being here. A short while later, Teddy cleared his throat.

“Did I tell you that banquette seating is called that from olden days when castles used to have banquets. ‘Medieval Times, Dinner and a Show’ restaurants used to have loads of it, apparently.”

Peter held Teddy’s eye. “Banc is French for bench.”