She shot to her feet. ‘Keep me where?’

He looked even more regretful. ‘Here.’

She said desperately, ‘I would like to contact someone from the British Consulate or Embassy. This can’t be legal.’

Major Hasίk smiled. ‘My dear girl, the British will have all gone home for the night. And you are subject to Czechoslovakian law if you are living in Prague. We are offering you the highest justice.’

She blinked. ‘Did I hear that correctly? The highest justice? You can stuff that.’

Major Hasίk sat quietly with his hands folded neatly on the table top.

‘But I’m a British national. They will come.’

‘The British like their nine to five. So, I don’t think so.’

‘But you can’t lock people up because of a bar of chocolate. It’s ridiculous.’

‘Did I say that was the case?’ Major Hasίk placed the chocolate bar, which was in danger of melting, back in his briefcase. ‘No, we are keeping you here for another reason.’

‘But what then?

He stood up and loomed above her. ‘How remiss of me not to mention it. You and your friends have been arrested for the crime of an organized disturbance of the peace.’ Again, he smiled. ‘That’s quite a separate matter. And a serious one.’

There were no spare cells available and, she was informed in sign language by the bully blond guard, she was to remain in the room. After a while, she fetched the second chair and managed to stretch out.

Her eyes were heavy with exhaustion and her head ached. If she was truthful, she was terrified and longed for sleep. She had just managed to fall into a doze when the telephone shrieked. The shock of it almost knocked her off her chair.

It went silent.

But not for long.

Throughout that long, foetid night, as she struggled to sleep, it rang. Every hour or so, shrilling for seven or so rings before falling silent.

She had never hated anything as much before, and doubted she would hate anything as much in future, as the sound of that telephone.

Towards 5 a.m., nauseous and dizzy with anxiety, she hauled herself upright. If they were doing this to her, what were they doing to the others?

The door opened. She shut her eyes and grasped the side of the chair with her hands, willing herself to be calm and clever about what was coming next.

She opened her eyes. The bully blond guard stood over her. He reached over and twisted a lock of her hair between finger and thumb and said something in Czech. Hauling Laure to her feet, he inserted his hands under her T-shirt and ripped it apart. A grin spread over his face – greedy, intent and frightening.

‘Stop it, please.’

Encircling her body with one arm, he reached with the other hand for his trouser belt and unbuckled it.