Fireworks, like paint splatters, freckled the smoggy sky, trailing streams of crimson, vermillion, azure. The light from the show cast strange shadows over the caravans - twisted shadows, darkened doorways. Made a labyrinth of the carnival.

I couldn’t see the footpath between the tents, couldn’t make out the wires in the half-dark. And I was assaulted by smells at every turn - the hairdryer burn of popcorn - the sickly sweet tufts of candy floss.

The roar of the crowd, the stomp of their feet, pulverising the grass, build to a crescendo in my head. Suddenly, it became very hard to breathe. Everything was turned to full - the sound, the smell, the light - squeezed my skull until there was nothing left.

Nothing but her shoe in the mud before me.