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Except perhaps John.

'If it's anybody's place, it's mine,' said the waitress, a woman not much older than a Year Six girl. She was holding a bread-knife like a sceptre of office. 'And I say they can stay.'

'You just work here, young lady. I've eaten enough meals to pay your wages.'

'You can say that again,' said Zack.

Mrs Haigh had a meat-skewer. I pictured her and the waitress squaring off like Robin Hood and the Sheriff of Nottingham.

'It's cold in here,' said Gillian, looking at her thermometer as if her body were no longer reliable. She exhaled, and her breath frosted. 'It shouldn't be.'

''Lectricity's off,' said the waitress.

'It's only a power-cut,' said Mr Haigh. 'It'll come back on soon. Someone will have telephoned the Electricity Board.'

'I don't think so,' said Gillian.

'What's she rabbiting on about?' said the vicar's wife. 'Horrid girl.'

'You can't talk to people like that,' said the waitress.

'I pay my taxes and I can say what I want. It's a free country, not Russia.'

'Though we've got their weather at the mo,' said Zack. 'You girls never did tell me your names the other night.'

'Susan,' I said, tapping my chest, 'and this is John and Gillian.'

'Gillian,' said Zack, 'nice name.'

'Don't wear it out,' said Gillian.

'This is Dolly,' said Zack, introducing the waitress. 'You obviously know little Malc, and the Haighs.'

'If you want food,' said Dolly, 'there are buns. And ketchup in those plastic tomatoes. The hamburgers and the chips are here, but they're frozen and there's no way to defrost them without power.'

'Mrs H is all for sucking on burgers like ice lollies,' said Zack. 'It may come to that.'

Gillian rummaged behind the counter, searching the cooking area.

'You're not to touch anything, young lady,' said Mrs Haigh.

'Oh shut up,' said Dolly.

'Well I never ... '

' ... if you mean never tipped, that's true.'

'You're paid adequate wages, I trust. I don't see why I should augment them just because you grudgingly do your job.'

'So you don't pass the collection plate on Sundays?'

'That's different.'

'Stop arguing,' said Malcolm, quietly.

Strangely, the grown-ups did shut up.

Malcolm had a lot of quiet force. He didn't often get angry or frightened, just closed himself up and got through it. He was used to people treating him like an alien, and had learned how to use it to his advantage.

A lesson worth learning.

'Eureka!' said Gillian.

In a locker of cleaning things, she'd found a rack of overalls. She tossed one set over the counter to me, and struggled off with her slicker, coat and shoes, then stepped into them, not bothering to take off her skirt or cardigan, then fastened the baggy overalls up tight and put her shoes, coat and slicker back on. The mismatched layers made her into a fat clown. The cold added to the effect by giving her a red nose and halfcrown-sized roses in her cheeks.

Zack tried a wolf-whistle, but it didn't come out right.

'Hardly becoming for a young lady,' said Mrs Haigh. 'What school do you go to? I shall write a letter to the Head. Shouldn't you be in lessons?'

'Skirts aren't practical in this weather,' I said.

I detached myself from Malcolm and also got the extra layer of clothing on. I rubbed fabric up and down over my calves and knees, trying to get feeling back.

John laughed.

'It isn't very stylish gear,' he said. 'You look like Daughter of Scott of the Antarctic.'

His first words since what had happened to his Dad.

'What's happening out there?' asked Dolly. 'Has the city gone mad? There was something about Piccadilly Circus on the news last night. Some sort of rampaging ice-monster, they said – people thought it was the BBC's idea of an April Fool, like the spaghetti trees. Then the wireless went off with everything else.'

'It's a Judgement,' said Mr Haigh. 'We are being punished for our sins. We have trespassed, and the Lord is pouring down fire and ice.'

'I haven't seen any fire,' said Zack. 'We could use it.'