‘Yes,’ he said again.

‘Then you must promise to listen carefully, and to hear it whole, beginning to end, for I’ll only tell it the once.’

Sam looked up in surprise. ‘I will, I mean, of course.’

The man gestured at the glass. ‘Drink to it.’

He drank. Brandy stung his tongue, followed by sharp herbs and bitter citrus. It was strong. When he swallowed, the liquor seemed to fill him from gullet to gut.

‘What is this?’ he asked, into the quiet. Beyond the door he could hear faint evening birdsong, the clatter of kitchen pans.

The stranger smiled. ‘The beginning.’

Twin Six

Take a dash of imported grenadine and four dashes of fresh orange juice. Add the white of one egg, half a pony of Italian vermouth and a jigger of dry English gin. Shake well together and strain. Smooth, and very deceptive.

I awoke abruptly, with sweat-drenched limbs and a thundering heart. For a minute, I didn’t know where I was.

Light was filtering in through a carved window screen, illuminating a small room, pristine white sheets that were tangled about my legs. Then I remembered: the party. The food and the encounter with Langham. Afterwards, Bouzid had shown me here, and I’d been too tired to do anything except lock the door, struggle out of my suit, and fall face first on to the bed.

Sitting up, I looked about the room. There was a bureau, a silver lamp, a patterned woollen rug. I stared at it all, thrilled and terrified in equal measure. I had never had my own room before. Slowly, the sense of wonder faded. This would not come free. Nothing did. Langham wanted something in return.

I swung my legs to the floor. Loyalty, that’s what he’d demanded last night. I had agreed; of course I had. Did he know I was lying? I’d never been loyal to anything or anyone before, except, perhaps, to Ifrahim.

The suit I’d bought in La Atunara was crumpled on the chair. The sight of it made me hesitate. It was stained in places, and the length of bandage I had been using to bind my chest was beginning to yellow with sweat. I tightened it reluctantly. I wanted cool, clean linen. I wanted to wander out into the garden dressed in a morning robe and slippers, with no one to answer to or decide what the day held but myself.

Of course, I couldn’t do that. I could only dress again in the suit, wash my face and wet my hair to make it presentable, and step outside the door, to see what was waiting.