Tomas took her by the hand to help her up. On the first floor, he pushed Laure into a room that ran the width of the building and which would have been beautiful but for its shocking state of disrepair. The paint on the walls was all but obliterated and an elaborate plaster frieze was just hanging on. Cow-dung-coloured lino covered the floor into which had been ground cigarette butts and food. At one end, a trestle table had been set up with bottles and glasses. Despite the heat, the windows had been blacked out with sheets and rugs.

At Tomas’s entrance, there was a muted cheer. A man thrust a filled glass into his hands and a woman kissed him on both cheeks.

Laure hovered uncertainly but Tomas put an arm around her shoulders and drew her forwards. ‘Meet my friend,’ he said in English.

A girl whom Laure recognized from the marionette theatre elbowed her way through the crush. The over-blonde hair had been released and allowed to hang down over her shoulders and she had changed into a red, wrap-around dress that looked homemade but revealed a ripe and desirable figure.

A torrent of Czech issued from her. Tomas listened patiently and put his hand on her arm. ‘Will you be kind to my new friend?’ Again, he spoke in English.

The appeal did not find favour. Lucia brushed off Tomas’s hand and let loose a second tirade. Tomas turned to Laure. ‘Lucia is suspicious. She thinks you may have been planted here by the police. It’s not unknown. They like to know what people think and say in private.’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘They’re particularly keen on getting to know the jokes people make.’

‘Jokes?’

‘Apparently, they reveal what you’re really thinking.’

‘I understand. Please could you tell Lucia that I’m an unlikely stooge as I don’t speak Czech.’

To her surprise, Lucia appeared to understand. ‘She speaks English,’ Tomas explained. He lowered his voice. ‘But we keep quiet about it. English speakers are not popular with the authorities. It’s considered subversive.’

Lucia nodded, and Laure realized her hostility stemmed in part from apprehension. Should she turn tail and get the hell out? Laure watched the black-maned bass player from Anatomie mount the table from where he made obscene gestures to the back of the room.

Tomas’s gaze rested on a gyrating figure close to them and the drinker hugging a bottle in the corner. ‘Welcome to the world of never knowing,’ he said into Laure’s ear. He pointed to the figure on the table. ‘That’s Manicki. The fans love his long hair, which means he can never cut it and he longs to do so because he’s a bourgeois at heart. And…’ he pointed to the drummer from Anatomie leaping up to join Manicki, ‘that’s Leo. He likes to be inscrutable.’