Karel had been nuzzling the girl’s neck, but he stopped when he spotted Frank watching them, and looked him up and down before giving an approving nod.

‘Looking good, Frankie boy. What d’you reckon, darlin’?’ He nudged the girl. ‘Handsome fucker, ain’t he?’

Viktorya cast a disinterested glance at Frank, and shrugged.

‘He is not so handsome as you, I think.’

‘Smart girl,’ Karel chuckled, slapping her on the backside before ushering her into the kitchen and taking a seat at the table. ‘Have you had anything to eat yet, Frankie?’

Frank shook his head and eyed the girl from the corner of his eye when she perched on the man’s lap and looped her arms around his neck. She had a self-satisfied smile on her lips, as if she’d won some kind of prize, but Frank had a feeling that her joy wouldn’t last too long, and he pitied her almost as much as he pitied Irena.

‘Hurry up and grab a butty,’ Karel said, leaning forward to take a cigarette out of a packet on the table. ‘It’s gonna be a busy day.’

Curious to know what the man had in store for him – and still convinced that this sudden display of magnanimity was a trick Karel had dreamed up to torture him – Frank walked over to the fridge. It was mainly filled with beer cans, but he found an open packet of ham and a half-loaf of bread in the salad drawer, and carried them over to the ledge.

As hungry as he’d been all week, his stomach was now in knots, and his appetite had evaporated. But he didn’t trust Karel, and he knew it could be a while before he was fed again if the man locked him back in his room, so he made the sandwich and took a seat at the end of the table.

He’d no sooner taken his first bite than Nick appeared in the doorway and jerked his chin up at Karel, and he watched from beneath his lashes as Karel pushed Viktorya off his lap and stood up. Nick was holding a rucksack, and Karel took it from him and handed it to the girl, then shooed her up the stairs, telling her to go and get dressed.