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of the pub's back rooms and had set it up at the far end of the bar. Without warning Ken Trentham - by habit one of Thatcham's most miserable and reclusive inhabitants - grabbed hold of my arm and stopped me as I made my way back to my friends.

'What's going on?' he mumbled. 'What d'you think they're doing here?'

'No idea, Ken,' I answered abruptly, keen to get away. 'I've never known anything like it,' he whispered dramatically.

'None of us have,' I replied as I tried to push past him and get back to the others.

'Nothing good'll come of this,' he hissed, leaning towards me secretively. 'You mark my words.'

'Whatever,' I mumbled, trying hard not to breathe in. The old man stank - an acute and repugnant combination of stale alcohol and halitosis. He stared into my face with cloudy, bloodshot eyes.

Trentham turned away for a second to pick up his pint and I seized on the chance to get away.

'Bloody hell,' I gasped as I sat down heavily on my hard wooden chair.

'Christ, was that Ken Trentham you were speaking to?' Siobhan asked incredulously.

I nodded.

'Well, it was more a case of him speaking to me,' I smiled, 'but yes, it was Trentham.'

'I didn't know you knew that dirty old bugger,' James said. 'I've lived round here for almost twenty years and I've only ever seen him talk to his dog before now...'

'I don't know him,' I said defensively.

'It's not like him to be so sociable...'

'Fucking hell,' laughed Rob, 'he must be their first victim!'

'What are you talking about?' asked Siobhan, confused.

'The aliens,' he grinned. 'Can't you see what they're doing? They've only been here for a few hours and already they're screwing up the minds of normally upstanding members of the community! Before you know it we'll all...'

'Bullshit!' I snapped.

Rob shrugged his shoulders.

'Of course it is.'

'People are acting differently though,' Siobhan whispered.

'What do you mean?' asked James.

She shrugged her shoulders.

'Well just look at this place,' she said, 'it's packed. It's like a show of unity, isn't it?'

'Is it?'

'Yes. It's the old Dunkirk spirit rearing its head again.' A little uncertain, she paused and looked around the table. 'The rules changed today, didn't they?'

'You're right. There's a new player in the game,' Rob agreed. 'None of us know who they are or what they're going to do and it's making us feel nervous. I don't suppose anyone here knows they're doing it.' 'Doing what?' interrupted James who seemed to be missing the point.

'Bonding together,' I explained. 'Like with like, can't you see it? This ship has arrived and it's different, and suddenly it doesn't matter what race you are, what religion you are, we're all the same.'

'The same?'

'Well, less different than we were this morning...'

I stopped speaking. The pub had suddenly become silent.

The jukebox had been switched off.

No-one at the bar was being served.

A brief blast of static and white-noise filled the air as Ray struggled to force an aerial lead into the back of the television set.

More silence.

Then more hissing. More static.

More silence.

A flickering picture appeared on the screen, disappeared and then reappeared seconds later.

'Got it!' yelled Ray.

A perfect picture (from where we were sitting) and clear sound.

I struggled for a second or two to focus through the smoky haze. The television showed more pictures of the alien ship hovering over the ocean. The scene was darker, of course, and a hundred dancing spotlights now ran continually along the smooth underbelly of the vast machine, but generally nothing seemed to have changed.

'Silly beggars,' Mrs Grayson, the lady who worked in the newsagent's said. Her voice was so loud and shrill that everyone could hear her. We used to joke that when she spoke her squeal was so high-pitched that it made the dogs in the street stop and run to her whenever she opened her mouth. 'The whole of the bloody universe to chose from and those daft sods wind up here at the back-end of nowhere!'

'Bloody hell,' Rob whispered, 'can you imagine what the odds against them turning up here must have been?'

He was right. The chances of the aliens finding our planet must have been slim enough, but to have stumbled upon our village? It defied all comprehension.

Rob got up and went to fetch more drinks.

I shuffled my seat round so that I had a better view of the television screen, taking care to stay close to Siobhan. Her hand was resting on my knee. Her touch was more comforting and reassuring than usual tonight.

'It's hard to