In the Palace of the Khans
“An anxious old man called Drogo had shown him to the bathroom and told him by signs and a smattering of English to leave his clothes by the door, then nipped in and removed them as soon as Nigel’s body was decently submerged.
He lay in the lovely warmth, listening to the come-and-go battering of rain against the window and the drum-rolls of thunder, and letting the life tingle back into his dead-meat muscles and the shock and panic drift away into the sweet-scented steam, until he heard a knock on the bathroom door.
“Your case is in your room, sir,” said a man’s voice. “The President will be ready to receive you in twenty minutes. I shall come and fetch you.” The man’s English was pretty good but with a strong accent.
“Fine,” called Nigel. “I’ll be ready.”
His bedroom was twice the size of his parents’ room at the embassy, with gleaming panelled walls, paintings of lakes and mountains, a log fire blazing in the grate and a faint odour of scented smoke. He dressed luxuriously in front ...of it, then watched the storm until he heard a knock on the door.MoreLess
He lay in the lovely warmth, listening to the come-and-go battering of rain against the window and the drum-rolls of thunder, and letting the life tingle back into his dead-meat muscles and the shock and panic drift away into the sweet-scented steam, until he heard a knock on the bathroom door.
“Your case is in your room, sir,” said a man’s voice. “The President will be ready to receive you in twenty minutes. I shall come and fetch you.” The man’s English was pretty good but with a strong accent.
“Fine,” called Nigel. “I’ll be ready.”
His bedroom was twice the size of his parents’ room at the embassy, with gleaming panelled walls, paintings of lakes and mountains, a log fire blazing in the grate and a faint odour of scented smoke. He dressed luxuriously in front ...of it, then watched the storm until he heard a knock on the door.MoreLess
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