Her senses still singing with surprise and delight she did her best to eat the sausage. To say it was pungent was an understatement and it took some chewing. The bread wasn’t much better but it did the job of quelling her hunger pangs.

Having observed the niceties, Tomas said ‘sorry about this’, folded his arms on the table top, rested his head on them and fell asleep.

She took herself to the bench outside and allowed her mind to drift. As she sat in the dappled shade, she heard her father’s voice urging her to tidy up. Untidy room, untidy mind. It brought a lump into her throat and, at the same time, made her smile.

Towards late evening, the men stirred into life and held a jam session at the crossroads. Almost immediately, an audience assembled.

They smoked, they sang, they danced, they joined in. A girl from the next-door chata wearing the tightest of jeans slunk over and gazed at Manicki with ill-concealed lust. An elderly man parked himself on a felled tree trunk and gave a thumbs-up. Children were silenced.

Sounding raw and ragged – unsurprising given the excess of the previous evening – Anatomie sang in Czech. Provocative songs, she reckoned judging by the effect they were having and worried they were taking risks.

The three didn’t look at each other much. It wasn’t necessary. Musically, they knew each other inside out. Their moves coordinated, their chords were of split-second timing, their pulsing sexual invitation collective.

A strange man caught her hand and made her dance. Blood pounding and breath catching, she let herself go until she was breathless.

The world spun around. She was caught up by the dark whispering trees, the late-night warmth, the scents of a summer night. She had become unearthly. She was pagan. She pulsed with fire and desire.

She was no longer the girl who had arrived in the country only a few weeks ago.

It was almost dawn when Tomas linked his hand into Laure’s and said, ‘Come to bed with me.’

They fumbled their way into a room with a narrow bed and crashed down onto it. The sheets were rough to the touch and unaired and the mattress was terrible. Laure didn’t care. Down the short passage, Leo and Manicki were blundering around in their rooms. From Manicki’s issued the sound of a female shriek.

Tomas gathered Laure to him. ‘I’m not capable at the moment.’ He was hoarse and exhausted. ‘Do you mind?’

The intimacy of the confession made her catch her breath. ‘No.’

His laugh was a rasp. ‘Shouldn’t you be saying that you do mind? It would be more complimentary.’

‘It wouldn’t have been true. I’m tired and sore and would like to sleep.’

‘An honest answer.’ He pulled her even closer and closed his eyes. ‘You smell of flowers.’ Within seconds he was asleep.