The first fuzzed frames were projected onto the make-shift screen and included mug shots of a smiling Dubček, the politician who had tried to liberalize communism in 1968. Cheers went up. Tomas translated the commentary for Laure. The Russians piled on the pressure for Czechoslovakia to conform and tried to shoot his reforms to pieces before sending in the tanks. The shots from a later period showed Dubček looking haggard and tearful.

The sandwiches were circulating and disappearing fast. Laure reached out to snaffle one – and froze. ‘Tomas,’ she dug her finger into his thigh. ‘Don’t look but there’s police in the doorway.’

A figure in the now familiar green uniform had taken up a stance in the doorway. Behind him stood several other uniformed figures who were propping up a sagging figure.

‘How many?’

‘Seven?’

Tomas did not miss a beat. ‘Get out. Now. Climb over the railing into the next garden.’

Lucia tried to rip down the screen and fractured shots of the increasingly dejected Dubček played on. A policeman stepped forward and snapped off the projector.

The policemen dragged their captive into the auditorium. ‘Oh my God,’ said Laure. ‘Leo.’

Leo raised his head. He had been beaten up and badly. The fair hair was dirty and matted with blood. A rogue stream of it ran down his cheeks. But he was alive. He raised his arms into the air and it became worse, far worse. A groan was forced from the onlookers close to him. His hands were a broken, bloody pulp.

A woman screamed.

For the first time since she had known him, Tomas’s expression resembled Pierrot’s staring into the abyss.

The lead policeman assessed the scene. His gaze lighted on Tomas and Laure and satisfaction spread over the flat features.

Tomas melted away as the policeman moved over to Laure. ‘Name?’ he asked in Czech.

She hesitated.

‘Name?’ he repeated.

She gave it. He produced a notebook and made her write it down and moved away.

‘This is what the pigs have done,’ cried Leo in English, the man of few words. ‘They have taken everything from me.’

The policeman grasped Leo by the wrists and he called out in pain.

‘You go,’ hissed Tomas in her ear.

An unthinkable scenario flashed through Laure’s mind. ‘Not without you. They’ll kill you this time.’

Leo was thrown down onto a bench, struggled to stay upright and slid to the floor. His blood splashed around him.

A chaotic, churning scene unleashed. Many of the gathering were now on their feet. The defiant ones shook their fists and shouted at the uniformed men. Some sidled for the door. Some slid down to the floor and refused to move.

Laure summoned every power she possessed and might ever possess. She grabbed her rucksack and pulled Tomas towards the door opening into the garden. ‘If you don’t come too I’ll give myself up.’