She chuckles, and then winces as her ribs remind her, they're still off the map.

"Right, well, I don't want to get tackled by security, so let's just see if we can't find our way out of here, and back to the bar. I don't know about you, but I need a drink."

They slip through the gardening section, past the multi-coloured plastic chairs and tables, umbrellas and barbecues, past the beach balls and other assorted children's toys. She starts down one aisle, and sees a woman with a cart piled so high, it looks structurally unsound.

"Let's go around. There has to be something around here."