You can take the man out of the queue, but you can’t take the queue out of the man, that’s what they say – and as I join the back along with a dozen others, each of us pretending we’re not pushing in front but doing it all the same, I realise I’m about to test the reality of that saying. I don’t bother trying to talk to the others – they clearly view me as the competition and after a while I’ll probably think the same way. Nobody smiles – or if they do, they’re probably after something.  That’s the way your mind goes. It’s terrible, but what can you do?

It’s a ridiculous idea having guards, yet there they stand like extras in a movie swaggering around and showing off their stun-guns. It’s just a job-creation scheme but it winds me up: why guards? They could just as easily take on nurses or counsellors instead, people who can do something useful. There’s no need – when we’ve sacrificed everything to be here why would we screw it up? Yet on every corner there’s a bristling, red-faced idiot, standing there like bouncers on the road to heaven.

Or hell.

Any fool can see the queue polices itself. Anyone gets out of line, they’re thrown off by the others then they either go to the back of the queue or they leave for good. I’ve seen it happen: you’d have thought the guy was being taken out to be shot.

Your main enemy ...