At the roundabout I asked Ruby the time.
Exactly twenty past six.
We took the first exit, and the fof lifted, suddenly, completely. Now we could see by the light of our torches and the moon. But the road wasn't winding and narrow, like I rememberce; it was wide, without trees or hedges. Had we taken the wrong exit?
There's the petrol station, said Adam.
But it wasn't lit up. As we got nearer, we saw the roof was caved in, windows smashed, tall grass growing around the pumps. Cars were parked higgledy-piggledy on the forecourt. I felt we shouldn't go any closer'