‘Ah, I remember her name now!’ The hostess clapped her hands. ‘Mazarine Blue. Mazarine Blue of the Boom-Boom club!’

Susan had looked miserably at the triumphant hostess. The name meant nothing to her but she thought she saw something register on Johnny’s face as the poor girl’s name was thrown around the room. It was strange he couldn’t remember such a name himself. She couldn’t take the meal any longer but the main course being done she felt she could just get away with excusing herself. How India was making her brave, or was it hard?

She rose. ‘Please excuse me, I don’t feel so well, it’s probably something I’ve eaten. Not tonight, of course...’ She turned quickly to her host. Mrs Lewis gave a wry smile and waved her onwards. The girl had barely said anything anyway, her presence would not be lost.

But Johnny stood up. ‘Let me walk you outside for a minute. Fresh air is always good.’

They went onto the verandah, which overlooked a part of the town that took in a minaret on its horizon. The air wasn’t particularly fresh but smelt of kerosene

and spice, and Johnny turned on the electric fan, which blew her hair onto her face and caught unattractively in her mouth.

‘Here, let me...’ he brushed it away. ‘Not very intelligent company is it,’ he lowered his voice. ‘But she means well, Mrs Lewis. Excitable!’

‘She’s been very kind...’

‘Has she?’ Johnny looked surprised and Susan’s defence was broken. She shook her head and they both laughed. ‘Well. Well done you for staying here, she has no children of her own, they’re probably a shock.’

‘I’m hardly a child...’

‘Of course, I meant she hasn’t raised a daughter. And I’m sure you’re used to far more intellectual company. Your father’s a teacher isn’t he?’

‘Yes.’

‘So was mine. In...?’

‘Classics.’