." she stammered nervously, blushing. "To be honest, I just really need somewhere to stay tonight." She could have kicked herself as she realised that she could have asked for, what, a hundred pounds? Two hundred? What was the going rate? She took another large mouthful of her drink.He gave her a big grin. "Well, my dear, what a lucky coincidence! You need somewhere to stay tonight, and I just happen to have a lovely hotel room here, paid for by my company, with a big double bed in it, and nobody to share it with! Would you like to come up and see my room?" He stared at her tits again and licked his lips."Oh, that's very kind of you sir. Umm, I could really use a shower. And could I dump my stuff?" She looked at the suitcase, awkwardly parked against the wall."Let's go," he said, finishing his drink and picking up her heavy suitcase. "Follow me."She followed him as he went out into the lobby and over to the lifts, her heart pounding nervously. She was going up to a hotel room with a. There was a pause. I tried again. “Look, can I help you? Who is this? Why are you calling me?” There was another uncomfortable pause. For a moment I thought she was going to switch off on me again. Then there was a rather breathy sigh. “Look,” said my unknown caller, “this is stupid. We’ve got to meet. I was just going to shit on you but it won’t work. I have to see you. “ “Well, – “ I began, but she cut me off. “Tomorrow, lunchtime. One o’clock. At Zanzibar’s. You know Zanzibar’s?” “And how will I know who I am meeting? “ I said, with a tinge of irony. “I will be right at the back. The table in the corner. You will know who I am,” she said decisively, and rang off. I stood staring at my phone for a long while, wondering, until I came to myself. The woman with the wine had moved on. And I, it appeared, had a lunch date. * * * I did know Zanzibar. And I knew the table in the corner. It was a perfect table. It was a William Gibson table. No, it was a John le Carré table. It was.
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