‘Good?’ Niko appears at his side. He puts a glass of beer down in front of Tom. ‘English Army,’ he says. ‘Last one.’ Tom finds that he is incredibly thirsty and drinks half the glass in one gulp. ‘You liked the hashish?’

‘Made me fall asleep, I’m afraid,’ Tom says, taking another large mouthful of beer. He’s never tasted hops quite this strongly before.

‘Yes, yes.’ Niko looks as if he’s about to say something else, but just then Zoë comes in from the back and leans on the table.

‘I think we should go. Do you think so?’ she says. Tom takes a deep breath: there’s something he’s been meaning to say but he’s completely forgotten what it might be. Her eyes … her eyes are extraordinary. ‘Lieutenant Tom?’ Niko whispers something to her. ‘What … ? Christ and the Holy Virgin, what were you thinking?’ She sits down opposite Tom and takes his hand. ‘How are you feeling, moreh?’

‘I’m absolutely fine,’ he says, puzzled but deliriously happy. ‘I was just … lost in your singing.’

‘Umm hmm. Niko! For God’s sake!’

‘He is fine. Aren’t you, Kapetanios?’

‘Clear as a bell,’ says Tom, smiling beatifically. He is, however, very hungry. And there is an argument in Greek going on over his head. Words are shooting back and forth between Niko, Zoë and the gendarme, who finally gets to his feet. He puts out his hand to Tom. ‘Come.’

‘Now?’

‘If you can walk,’ says Zoë, rather spikily.

‘Of course I can walk! But aren’t you going to sing some more?’

‘Not tonight. Batis is just getting started. I can leave.’

‘Oh.’ The disappointment is crushing. ‘If we’re going, I need my case.’

‘I have fetched it.’ She holds it out to him. ‘Paints, everything is in there. We will go out through the back.’

‘And my gun?’ Tom winces at the thought of it.

‘I think it is better if we leave it with Niko.’

‘Oh, thank God. Yes, you’re right.’

The gendarme taps him on the shoulder. He almost bursts out laughing, and then he is overwhelmed by the knowledge that he will never see this place again. They lead him down a short corridor so narrow that Tom’s shoulders brush the wall on each side. There is a heavy door made of rough planks at the far end. Niko opens it, looks around, and nods. The gendarme – he is coming too, Tom realises – steps out, and Zoë follows him. The cold air wakes Tom up, and then Niko is planting scratchy kisses on his cheeks.

‘Good luck, Kapetanios.’

‘Thank you,’ says Tom, and hurries through the door. When he turns to say goodbye, it is already shut.

CHAPTER NINETEEN