Devil May Care

parents must have been clairvoyant.’
    ‘Enough English charm, James – though I shall tell her what you said. Have you ever smoked opium?’
    They found themselves in a square room with tapestry-covered couches round the walls. On the floor lay outsize cushions, on a few of which men reclined as they sucked at opium pipes prepared for them by one of Salma’s colleagues at a low central table with a glowing brazier in the middle. Soft Persian music was playing, although no musicians were visible.
    Zohreh sat down cross-legged near the table and gestured to Bond and Darius to do likewise. The girl took a stick of opium, shaped as a tube, and cut a piece from it. She placed it in the china bowl of a pipe, then, with silver pincers, took an ember from the brazier and held it over the opium. She gave the mouthpiece of the pipe to Darius, who took it with a wink at Bond. Then the girl blew on the ember until it glowed red and the opium beneath it sizzled. Smoke rose through a small hole above the china bowl and Darius sucked it in. Eventually, he passed the pipe to Bond, who took it with some hesitation. He didn’t want his capacities impaired by drugs, but was reluctant to offend his host. He took some smoke into his mouth, nodded his approval, and passed the pipe back to Darius. When he thought no one was watching, he allowed the smoke to escape through his nostrils.
    Around them, half a dozen men lay back among the cushions, their eyes closed, with expressions of dreamy pleasure.
    ‘It’s a problem for some of these men,’ Darius said. ‘Opium used in moderation is all right. Say once a week. But in this country too many people are its slave, not its master. At least it’s a pure drug, the untreated juice of poppy. Its compounds and derivatives, like heroin, are far more dangerous.’
    The pipe was offered to Zohreh, who laughed and shook her head. Darius smiled. ‘Our women are “liberated”, but not quite that liberated yet, James.’
    ‘Who are the girls swimming in the pool beneath the waterfall?’
    ‘Celestial virgins,’ said Darius, and began to cough. Bond couldn’t tell if he was laughing or whether it was the opium smoke.
    Wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, Darius said, ‘They are paid by the management to disport themselves in the water. I expect when they have their clothes on they are hostesses, like Salma. I think the setting is meant to represent heaven. If you have been a very good boy on earth, the Prophet promises that you will be welcomed in heaven by numerous virgins. I forget whether they merely serve you drinks or perform more intimate functions. It’s a long time since I read the Koran.’
    ‘But you used to believe it?’ said Bond.
    ‘Of course,’ said Darius. ‘I was a well-brought-up little boy in a proper Muslim household. My father had spent a good deal of time in America but that doesn’t mean he’d lost his roots. Anyway, once upon a time I dare say you believed in Father Christmas.’
    ‘Yes,’ said Bond. ‘The evidence was more immediate. Coloured packages. Half-eaten carrots left by his reindeer on the hearth.’
    Darius shook his head. ‘And to think that all we had was faith.’ He got to his feet, a little unsteadily. ‘I believe Salma would like to show us the hammam now.’
    They went first to a bar in the main room, where Zohreh ordered gin and tonic and the men had whisky. Salma invited them to bring their drinks and follow her. They went down an open internal staircase until they were alongside the turquoise waters where the ‘virgins’ splashed. Bond found himself being taken by the arm. ‘Come along, Mr Bond,’ Zohreh whispered. ‘There are more good things to see.’ She gave a tinkling laugh.
    Through another iron-studded wooden door, they came to a tiled area where a young woman in a white robe welcomed them and handed Darius, Bond and Zohreh two large white towels each.
    Zohreh pointed to a door with a figure of a man, then went through the women’s entrance.
    ‘This is where we take our clothes off, James,’ said Darius.
    ‘Are we joining the virgins?’
    ‘I should explain,’ said Darius, removing his shirt to reveal a deep chest covered with black and grey hair. ‘The hammam plays an important part in Persian life. We are a clean people. Everyone must wash their hands and face before praying, but in certain circumstances – for instance, after sexual activity – a Grand Ablution is necessary. Even the meanest village