if every question I could think to ask about the aliens had been answered for me before I'd even had chance to speak.
At seventeen minutes past eleven the last human ship reached the shore and, for the first time since the aliens had arrived, the skies over the ocean were almost clear. A hushed and expectant silence swept through the enormous (and still growing) crowd that had gathered to witness the final few moments of the mighty machine. People scrambled further up the hillside and balanced themselves precariously on the obliging shoulders of friends, stretching and craning their necks so that they could get a clear view of the release of the ship.
Without warning, in a fraction of a second, the sea for miles around the rear of the immense alien machine was suddenly illuminated by a flood of searing, incandescent light which poured out from the powerful engines. The ship remained bewilderingly silent and I watched in wonder as it graciously turned full circle and began to glide back towards the shore. Billions of pairs of eyes stared out from every last corner of the globe to watch as the beautiful black machine gently lifted its nose to the stars and then blasted out into space, soaring straight over my head. Less than two minutes had passed before the incredible machine had disappeared completely from view.
A sudden wave of spontaneous cheering and applause echoed through the warm summer air. I stood up (my view had been good enough for me to remain seated throughout) and then reached back down to help pull Rob up onto his feet.
'Bloody hell,' he said with a vacant grin of disbelief plastered across his face. 'That was incredible. Did you see the size of that thing?'
I nodded and yawned and began to walk back up the slope of the hill towards home. Hordes of excited, chattering people swarmed around me.
'Impressive, wasn't it?' I said sarcastically, trying unsuccessfully to hide the unexpected disappointment that I was feeling. The ship had been an amazing sight to behold but, now that it had gone, I was left filled with a sense of anticlimax.
Rob was ignorant to my feelings and carried on talking regardless.
'How could something so big be so quiet?' he wondered enthusiastically. 'And the light from those engines! Jesus, I've never seen anything like it!'
I weaved my way through the sea of vast, meandering figures. Some of them were still fixed to the spot, staring up into space transfixed and hoping to snatch one last glimpse of the awesome alien ship.
We reached the top of the hill and I looked down towards Thatcham. Even from a distance I could see that the village streets were heaving with cars and people.
'We could have made a bloody fortune tonight,' I mumbled, stifling a tired yawn.
'How?'
'I've never seen so many people,' I explained. 'I could have hired out the spare room or let a couple of them put tents up in the garden...'
'It's not too late.'
'Suppose.'
'You could still do it, there's plenty of time. There are still people arriving. I bet there's going to be hundreds of people sleeping in the back of their cars tonight.'
'More fool them,' I grumbled.
'Don't worry,' Rob continued. 'It's going to stay busy round here for a long time yet.'
'You reckon?'
'Course it is. Bloody hell, we've got aliens living thirty miles up the coast. Everyone's going to want to see them.' He was right. As we stumbled on towards home I glanced back over my shoulder. I could just about make out the twinkling lights of the camp at Brymer.
The aliens were close. Damn close.
I wasn't overly concerned or worried that they were near, but I still couldn't bring myself to match the euphoria which seemed to have consumed just about everyone else.
Chapter 11
On Saturday evening Siobhan, Rob and I along with James, his wife Stephanie and their four children, all gathered by invitation at Clare and Penny's house. Clare had told me many times during the last few weeks and months that she hated spending her evenings alone and these informal get-togethers had recently become a regular event. A chance for us all to relax in the company of our closest friends.
Fortunately the late summer evening was warm and bright and we were able to send the children outside to play - out of sight and out of earshot. Once they had disappeared we were, for a short time, able to relax without interruption. I lay back on Clare's comfortable sofa with