Raven leaned in to talk when making a point, her warmth and perfume enveloping him. By the time de Payns had finished eating, the lights went down and the dance leader stood in a spotlight on a parquet dance floor in front of the stage. The crowd—Raven included—whooped and applauded.

The dance leader’s accent was so heavy that de Payns struggled to understand what he was saying, but the other diners seemed to have no trouble, because they rose as one and headed for the dance floor. And then his hand was in Raven’s and he was being dragged into a Latin dance night.

Half an hour later, he collapsed into his seat, sweaty and panting from the work-out. Raven ordered a pitcher of margarita and now she wanted to talk. A female singer took the stage with the band, and Raven leaned in so her lips were on his neck.

‘What would you do if someone in your family became very religious?’ she slurred.

‘It would be difficult,’ said de Payns.

She made a groaning sound, sat up, rolled her eyes and leaned back into de Payns. ‘My husband.’

‘You don’t have to explain,’ said de Payns.

‘I know. But it’s so hard, living in Belgium with all this freedom and women having their own lives, and …’

De Payns sipped and waited.

‘My husband and I moved here five years ago, and it was great. He had a good job.’

De Payns ears were now pricked up and he leaned towards her slightly as the singer and the band performed a rowdy Latin American number.

‘But our mosque was filled with radicals, and Fadi fell in with them,’ she said. ‘Suddenly, he doesn’t want me drinking and he wants to go back and live righteously in Pakistan. But I don’t want to give up my freedom.’

‘He doesn’t live in Belgium?’

‘His clothes are still in the wardrobe and the kids live in hope that he’ll walk in the door, but he went back to Islamabad, where he belongs.’

‘Did he find work back at home?’ he asked. Perhaps the middle-aged man from the MERC was her husband, he speculated.

‘Yes, but now he spends a lot of his time working out of Dubai.’

That ruled out the man from the MERC.

He topped up her glass but not his own.

She leaned in again. ‘Women in Europe can be independent, if they have education and they have a way to make money.’

‘That’s about it,’ said de Payns. ‘Or come from a wealthy family. That’s also a good strategy.’

She sighed. ‘I know all about that.’

‘Yeah?’ prompted de Payns, interested again. This gave him an opening to play at the ego end of MICE. She was at a point of great candour.

‘But it’s also a prison.’