No, he wasn’t going to do that. That was the one thing of which she was sure, and she unwrapped her arms and put them around him.

Despite the turf, the ground was hard and hard objects pressed into her back. Her inexperience was very evident and, to begin with, she felt wooden and disadvantaged.

‘Stop worrying,’ he said. ‘I will make sure you are OK.’ He kissed a breast. ‘You are very beautiful and sweet. You’ve got leaves in your hair and you look like one of the sprites that live in the wood.’

‘You said I was a lioness.’

‘That, too,’ he said so tenderly that Laure thought she would faint from emotion. ‘Now, are you still afraid? I will take great care of you.’

She looked into his eyes and saw that he was honest and open. ‘No, I’m not afraid.’

After a while, she forgot about the stones pressing into her spine and concentrated on the sharp sensations and hungers. True to his word, Tomas made it easy for her and his consideration made her want to laugh and to cry.

When it was over, they lay in a sweaty tangle. It was growing dark and the rustles in the undergrowth increased and a night breeze stirred the leaves at the tops of the branches. But there was no threat, only a vast peacefulness.

Tomas’s head rested on Laure’s shoulder. He smelt warm, male and entirely seductive. The intimacy of their entwined bodies made her catch her breath. Falling in ever deeper love, which she knew she was doing, was to be set free from oneself. It was the freedom to blend into someone else and take on their world.

Yes.

She squinted up at the tree canopy and thought: please don’t let me get old.

Tomas stirred. ‘I can hear you thinking.’

‘I imagined for a moment what it must be like to be old and without… this.’ She placed her hand on his back.

‘You’re not old.’ Tomas lifted his head. ‘And you don’t have to be without it. No?’

With a deep joy and thankfulness, Laure closed her eyes.

Manicki and Leo were too hung-over to be welcoming. When Tomas and Laure returned to the chata, they muttered something about the drink having taken a toll on their language skills and, slumped in chairs, they returned to the business of getting over the hangover.

Efforts had been made to tidy up. The dishes had been washed up and the empties stacked outside the door. But the air still reeked of cigarettes and unwashed male bodies.

Tomas flung open the windows and propped open the door. Manicki muttered about the insects and Tomas replied that they should have thought of that earlier.

She helped Tomas to clear the table and he set sausage and bread down on it. ‘Not fine dining but you must be hungry.’