For some reason, a shiver ran down my neck. ‘Yes. White flannel. And a shirt of saffron gold, just like yours.’

‘Will it be ready by tomorrow?’

I nodded, feeling queasy. ‘Cabrera said so. He told me it would be delivered in the morning, with a note inside about the rendezvous. I’m to send information back with the delivery boy.’ I swallowed. ‘They will be watching the house.’

‘Good,’ Langham said. He looked away and stood up and I was left feeling cold, as if someone had closed the door of a stove. ‘Bouzid,’ he said, ‘come with me. We have a lot to do.’

Despite the heat of the day and the brandy I had drunk, I could not stop shivering. Langham and Bouzid left Dar Portuna by the secret back gate, where to I didn’t know. Hilde and I did what we could to distract ourselves, decorating the lounge for a party that none of us wanted. We arranged glasses and chose platters. Once or twice we tried to talk of what had happened, what was to come, only to find we couldn’t; the words turned to ash in our mouths. Finally, we parted, Hilde to her pipe, I to the privacy of Langham’s bathroom.

In the shower, I tried to sluice away the fear and anxiety, wincing at the sting of water on the back of my head. I tried to forget that there was a world outside the house. I wanted to sever Dar Portuna from Tangiers, wanted to untie all of the strings that tethered us to the past and send us drifting away into the world, untouchable.

Later, wrapped in Langham’s robe, I sat on the tiny roof terrace above the bedrooms, trying to catch a breeze off the strait. It was like a nest up there, the highest spot in the house, from which I could see everything. The edge of the casbah and beams of motorcars on the beach road, the ships on the strait, the vastness of a continent behind me of which I still knew nothing. I stared into the darkness, trying to imagine what life lay ahead for me, tomorrow, next week. I found that I couldn’t.

‘Here you are.’ It was Langham, emerging from the stairs. ‘I’ve been looking for you.’

He came and stood behind me, his arms encircling my chest, careful not to touch my bruised head.

‘I don’t even know your name.’ I murmured it to the night. I wasn’t sure where the words came from, only that they were truth.

For a moment, he stiffened. Then, I felt him relax, leaning closer. ‘I could say the same for you,’ he whispered. ‘Why don’t you choose us another one?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I’ve been thinking.’ His breath was warm on my cheek. ‘If it happens that I have to leave Tangiers, would you go with me?’

Leave Tangiers, Dar Portuna? ‘And go where?’