The four of us are seated at the bar stools and Sammy’s man already has his hand high on her inner thigh. She hasn’t even finished her first drink. I see the fat driver sitting at a table nearby and I wonder how many other eyes are trained on us. Sammy’s man is the first to take action, his hand on her behind as they go. She turns to look at me briefly, her eyes huge.

My man smiles, almost apologetically, and says, ‘Well … shall we?’ He offers his hand and I take it, my insides turning to steel even as my mouth is working itself into a smile. ‘You’re so pretty. Has anyone ever told you how pretty you are?’

This man likes to hold me close and tells me over and over how lovely I am. ‘Thank you, thank you,’ he says, and ‘Sorry’, which is not the first time I have heard this word. The piece of paper is still curled under my tongue. I hold that part of me stiff while his invades every part of me. I would not want this person to know anything about me; he needs to remain a stranger. I hope Sammy has some self-protection and she doesn’t give that sweating bald man any ammunition. They know, I’m sure of it, and that is part of the thrill for them – the powerlessness of the creature beneath them. I see in their eyes the same manic light that was in Sergiu’s as he used to watch the barrel pick up speed with Luca thumping around inside. Roll over. There. Yes. There. No. You’re welcome. Nothing has ever been less welcome.

I’m the first back to the bar, where the man insists on sitting with me until my friend reappears. ‘Wouldn’t do to leave you here all alone now, would it?’

Oh no, sir, you never know what might happen to a young girl like me. I can hear Sammy’s voice in my head and my thoughts are her thoughts. I sip the glass of sparkling wine slowly, letting the fizz slide down my throat, managing to hold the note in place, clamping my tongue down hard. I try to count the bubbles even though I know it’s useless – the bubbles have popped by the time I swallow. I think back to me tasting a fizzy drink for the first time in that bar with Magda and Petre and the sisters. What has happened to them? What could possibly have happened? I shake my head, not allowing my mind to fill with Magda’s face the last time I saw her.