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As we neared Maya and the rest of our crew, the mob that had done our bidding was ebbing from the stadium as if it were a single creature directed by one mind and not a horde of men and women, each with his or her own distinct identity. The sound of breaking glass told me that their first port of call was Crystal Palace. Glancing in that direction I saw that its once perfect façade had developed any number of jagged holes where panes of glass had been shattered. Hail storms of stones hurtled towards it, one after another in quick succession, so many as to darken the sky like the arrows at Agincourt.
And then we were with Maya, and Bob was reunited with his wife, and James with his mother. Not one of them spoke. But Bob, moving awkwardly because of his injured leg, limped the few paces
