I felt like the weak gazelle separated from the herd by starving lions. I continued to struggle and shout and curse at them to let me go. I railed and screamed but they just laughed, mocking me, thriving on my fear. One of them picked me up and threw me over his shoulder. From this height, I could make out our car as I was carried along. Some of the mob had overturned it and set it ablaze. I shouted for Steven but I knew he’d never come for me now.

I landed roughly on the stone steps of this doorway. The bloke carrying me dropped me and melted back into the crowd. A half circle of leering men loomed over me. I mumbled at them – by this time I was beyond fear and into the realm of babbling idiot. Curling up, I braced myself as they closed in on me. Some part of me still believed someone would charge in and rescue me.

The first boot slammed into my side knocking my breath out of me. Their hatred poured out of them with volcanic ferocity and their yells turned into snarls. The lions came in for the kill.