‘I know.’ Again, he kissed her. ‘But I argue that I do know you, you know.’

‘You don’t know me.’

‘I know you in the way that matters.’

She gave up. ‘That’s too many “knows”.’

‘That’s terrible.’ He traced the line of her jaw and she stood still, hardly daring to breathe. ‘I could tell you many things… that you’re beautiful, and almost certainly clever, and have appeared like a star on a gloomy night.’ He checked himself. ‘You look as though you don’t believe what I say. Quite right. It might all be true. It probably is.’ Again, a pause that Laure found more eloquent than words. ‘But I’m talking about another connection and you will have to work it out. That’s the best I can do.’

She swallowed. ‘That’ll do.’

His hands rested on her shoulders. ‘I must take you back.’

They had to fight their way out of the room. Everyone wanted a piece of Anatomie, and Tomas in particular. Watching and hovering, Laure concluded that the group offered a rescue remedy to which everyone felt entitled to help themselves.

‘Tomas.’ Lucia materialized out of the crowd. She held a bottle of beer and another stuck out of the pocket of the red dress. ‘Where’re you going?’

‘Taking our new friend home.’

Lucia looked from Laure to Tomas. ‘I see,’ she said in English. ‘This is stupid. Stupid.’ She turned away and slid back through the crowd.

Outside in the night street, the trapped heat from the day claimed them. Tomas took Laure’s hand. ‘I’m sorry there’s no car. But feet are good. Where do we go?’

She told him.

‘Ah.’

She was instantly aware of a change in his body language. A drawing back. ‘You know that anyone who lives there probably works for the State?’

‘My employer works for a pharmaceutical company. He’s based in Paris most of the time.’

Tomas stuck his hand in his pocket and her heart sank. Somehow, she had transgressed and she had no idea why. Eventually, he appeared to make up his mind. ‘Come along, then. Isn’t that what you say in the UK?’

Her heart lightened. ‘Something like that.’

‘I must warn you, we will be followed.’

She sent a hasty look over her shoulder. ‘Does one get used to it?’

‘Consider it an alternative universe.’ He put an arm around her shoulder. ‘That’s what we sang about tonight. Or rather, we sang about the universes we would like to be in.’

He was close enough to smell his sweat, the tobacco, the drink. None of it repellent. Rather the opposite: tantalizing. ‘I caught some English words.’

He said, ‘I told you English was subversive.’

‘Ah. I’ll whisper then.’