It was true. Tangerines, for the most part, could hold their liquor. They were no match for the mahjoun though, which they gobbled like candy, their lips powdered with white. I exchanged a look with Bouzid, who was circling like a shark, keeping every glass filled to the brim. Slowly, the party began to grow more riotous. I saw one woman pour a bottle of champagne over a man’s head, while two others sprawled unconscious on the cushions of the veranda. Still more were at drunken business with each other in the shadows, trying to stifle gasps and moans. Finally, there was a great splash and a chorus of laughter as one man went careering into the pool.

Half past midnight. It was time. I raced back to the kitchen, my heart hammering, my mouth dry with nerves. After a minute, Langham appeared, locking the kitchen door behind him.

‘Ready?’ he asked, retrieving my suit jacket from its hanger behind the door.

I nodded, trying to be fast, my fingers slipping on the gilded buttons of the server’s jacket. He helped me to pull it from my shoulders, and within moments, we had swapped. He now wore the apron and the serving uniform. I was the one resplendent in white flannel. Last, he took out his pocket watch, and hooked it into my own waistcoat.

‘Remember, keep your head down, and don’t let anyone get too close,’ he said. ‘They have to believe I’m you, Ale, if I’m to have an alibi.’

I nodded again, unable to speak, and caught him by the arms.

‘An hour and a half, by the Hotel Continental,’ he said rapidly. ‘Then we’ll be away from here. At two o’clock. You hear me?’

We kissed, once, and too soon he was turning, picking up the tray of mahjoun, his head lowered.

‘Arthur!’ My cry stopped him by the door, and he looked back. His posture had already changed, his expression, his whole demeanour. It was as if I was looking at a stranger.

Then he was gone, slipping through the shadows towards the back gate where Bouzid would be waiting. I grabbed the boater hat from the kitchen table and made for the lounge, keeping to the shadows.

For forty-five, dreadful minutes I flitted through the rooms, lingered beneath tree branches and in doorways, careful to be seen only in glimpses by the guests who stumbled across the veranda and down the paths.