My friend M thinks they’ve set fire to a car, but these are smoke bombs. Thugs run past the windows, one of them carrying a burning rainbow flag. I do up the shoulder strap on her dungarees, and we make sure none of her things are lost, because she had to pick them up from the pavement and put them in her backpack. “Do something, Mummy,” she wails, “get me out of here, I’m scared.” Moments later, a trembling teenage girl rushes in, with what’s left of her ripped handbag hanging from her shoulder she tries to call the friend with whom she was marching but he was attacked again and they’ve lost phone contact. The staff are horrified and there’s a frightened girl of about 10 with her mother (they probably weren’t going to the march). Some in the crowd run away, but more of the “warriors”, beefy men with angry faces, go for them. Just before the square, we can see gangs of thugs 10 metres ahead of us, attacking people: a large guy in a red balaclava is kicking everyone in sight, including some teenage girls, with the full weight of his body. So we turn into Blues Avenue, then into Suraska Street. We continue along Skłodowska Street towards the square from where the march is meant to start, but some people are running away from there and heading down another street, because marchers are being hit.