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me.
    â€œYou need help,” she eventually said. “Something’s happened to you.”
    â€œWell, you’re right about that at least—yes, something’s happened to me. For the first time in my life, and I’m all the better for it.”
    â€œYou’re not though. Look in the mirror.”
    As it happened, there was a long narrow mirror running the length of the bar, below the row of optics and shelves of drinks. I hunched down so I could make eye contact with myself and couldn’t help grinning.
    â€œWho’s that handsome devil?” I chuckled.
    â€œRonnie …”
    â€œMy name’s Ronald!” I roared. Francois clucked and gestured for me to keep it down. I waved a hand in what could have passed for either apology or dismissal of his complaint.
    Charlotte’s hand was shaking as she lifted her glass of water. I realized that’s what she was: carbonated water, while my life had become so much headier and filled with sensation.
    â€œWill you help me find a hotel?” she was asking without making eye contact.
    â€œOf course,” I said quietly.
    â€œI’ll change my flight to tomorrow, if I can. I was going to stay a few days, but …”
    â€œThey’ll be missing you at your work.”
    â€œOh, I quit the job. My thinking was to do some travelling with you.” Finally she fixed her eyes on mine. “But that was when you were you.”
    â€œWho am I now?”
    â€œI’ve really no idea.”
    â€œWell, I’m sorry you had to come all this way to find out.” I placed a fifty-franc note on the counter and made to lift Charlotte’s rucksack from the floor.
    â€œNo,” she snapped, hoisting it on to her shoulders. “I can manage perfectly well.”
    As we exited the café, I caught sight of a dress I recognized. Just the hem of it as its owner dodged around the corner of a building. We headed in the opposite direction, into the narrow maze of streets behind the bookshop. I looked behind me, but Alice didn’t seem to be following. There were plenty of small hotels here, most of them doing good business at the height of the summer. It was twenty minutes before we found one with a vacancy. The owner led Charlotte upstairs to inspect the room while I said I’d wait in the street. I was rolling a fresh cigarette when I heard a scooter come to a stop behind me. I was half-turning in its direction when the passenger launched himself from behind the driver and hit me with what looked like a broken chair-leg. It connected with one of my temples and sent me to my knees. A hand was rummaging in my pockets. It pulled out the notes from the till and rubbed them in my face. Then another smack on the side of the head and Harry climbed back aboard, the driver revving the small engine hard as they fled the scene. Pedestrians had stopped to gawp, but only for a moment. There were no offers of help as I scrabbled to pick up my pouch of tobacco. I got to my feet and felt the world spin. I knew I was grinning, but had no idea why. I lit my cigarette and leaned against the wall, head tilted so I could look at the bluest sky imaginable.
    Charlotte came out onto the pavement minus her rucksack, which meant the room had been declared acceptable. When she saw me she let out a screech, covering her mouth with her hand. That was when I noticed the blood dripping down from the cut on my temple. It was staining my already-disreputable shirt and trousers, and adding crimson spots to the street beneath.
    â€œWhat happened?” Charlotte asked.
    I took out my handkerchief and pressed it to the cut, feeling it sting for the first time.
    â€œSomebody hit me.” I was still grinning. “Don’t worry, I’ll get him back.”
    â€œWe need the police.”
    â€œWhat for?”
    â€œYou know who did this?”
    â€œI didn’t pay him for the drugs.”
    Her eyes hardened. “Say that