As Tomas led her down the street from the square and over the Charles Bridge into the Malá Strana, there was the counterpoint of someone else’s footsteps behind them. The heat in the narrower streets was close to stifling and sweat dampened her sandals and pooled in the small of her back. In contrast, Tomas paced alongside her seemingly without effort and, at the sight, Laure’s mood swung between the recklessness of the semi-drunk and apprehension.

A shadow threw itself over her and she slid to a halt. ‘What’s that?’

He took her arm and pointed upwards. ‘A shop sign.’ His fingers tightened. ‘You will have to learn like all of us here not to box with shadows. We need our energy for the real thing.’ His voice softened. ‘Trust me.’

In the courtyard below the Kobes’ apartment, Tomas faced Laure. ‘Do you?’

She knew what he meant. ‘Trust you? Yes.’

He was a star and knew it, but it didn’t seem to have spoiled him. He also seemed to be someone who got things done. She liked that.

He was saying, ‘Trust should not be lightly given.’

She nodded to acknowledge the point. ‘I’ve taken you out of your way.’

‘So? Will I see you again? I’m usually at the marionette theatre. Or someone there will know where I am. Will you come?’

He seemed on edge, impatient for an answer.

She asked haltingly, ‘Lucia?’

A trace of irritation crossed his features. ‘She’s a fighter. Nothing is more important to her than our work.’

She felt herself flush. ‘Oh.’

‘Don’t worry about it. However, for the benefit of the goon over there by the archway, I do have to kiss you.’

She flicked a glance in the direction of a burly man in a leather jacket at the entrance to the street who was making a play of lighting up. ‘Kissing is political?’ She understood the position, but she was also hoping Tomas would say that it was other things too.

‘It is.’ He drew her to him, his face suspended over hers. The sweat that had seeped into the corners of her eyes misted her vision. She was trembling on the edge of hallucination.

Tomas placed his lips on hers.

His body was hot, alien, but also almost feline in its lines and fineness.

The goon watched, absorbed, probably a little excited.

Tomas pulled away in order to look into her face. ‘I don’t understand,’ he said.

‘What?’

‘How this…’ he touched her cheek. ‘How this has happened.’

She didn’t need to ask what. She knew. She knew.

He moved slightly and his hip jutted against hers. ‘You’ll come to the theatre?’ he murmured into her ear.

Laure pressed herself against him. ‘Yes.’

She was helpless… drink, lust?

Tomas whispered, ‘I’m going to kiss you again.’

‘Yes. Yes, you are.’

It had begun.