Where I come from, punching old ladies simply isn’t done. My stupefied stare must have reassured her. Straightening to her full height of three feet six, she gestured at the door and twisted her bony wrist – once, twice, three times. I got the message. Three doors, three locks, between me and freedom.

I was begining to think maybe I could overcome my conditioning about hitting old ladies – not hard, of course, just a little tap – when she gave a sudden backward hop, agile as an Egyptian cricket. (They are black and very large, and they don’t fly; they beam themselves from place to place like Captain Kirk.) Before I could move she was out of the door. It closed with a slam and I heard the key turn in the lock.

I didn’t swear. I was too dumbfounded to be angry. What the hell kind of jailer was this? Where the hell was I? Who the hell was responsible for this?

By the time I had finished the coffee and nibbled at a piece of flat, unleavened bread I was pretty sure I knew the answer to the last question. The situation had his distinctively lunatic touch, including Grandma Moses. I wondered where he had dug her up. So, fifty pages later, when I heard the key turn in the lock again, I didn’t bother assuming a posture of attack. Where John was concerned, bare hands weren’t worth a damn. I’d need a water cannon to handle him.

The man who entered had the same swagger and the same condescending smirk. It wasn’t John. It was Feisal.

‘Don’t you have any Barbara Michaels or Charlotte MacLeod?’ I asked, waving the book at him. ‘I loathe Valerie.’

Feisal settled himself comfortably in one of the chairs. ‘Wrong cue. You’re supposed to say, “How dare you,” or “What do you want with me?” so I can leer lustfully at you.’

‘Let’s not bandy words,’ I said. ‘Who’s the old lady?’

‘My grandmother.’

‘You low down skunk. You ought to be ashamed of yourself, dragging an innocent grandmother into this. Or is she innocent?’

‘Oh, quite. She thinks my interest in you is personal.’

‘Now wait a minute.’ I didn’t believe him, but I thought it might be a good idea to get up from the bed. I pulled out the other chair and sat down facing him. ‘A dear, old-fashioned Muslim granny wouldn’t connive at abduction and rape.’

‘Certaily not.’ Feisal looked shocked. ‘She knows I’m irresistible to women. She thinks you’re just playing hard to get. But don’t worry,’ he went on, while I struggled to express my feelings, ‘much as I’d enjoy overcoming your maidenly scruples, you are perfectly safe from attentions of that sort.’

‘And why is that?’