Of course it was not always so. She still would shake her head in disbelief when thinking about their first interaction. A napkin passed to her after ... long lunch at the local Greek restaurant. She was with her then boyfriend and he was a late arrival. He sat opposite her and ate quietly. He didn’t speak much, but it was clear he was taking in everything around him. ‘Call me tomorrow at 6am’ It said. A phone number was printed in neat handwriting next to the benign command. He didn’t ask for. This was a disappointment in one sense. The crowded, sweaty North African city hardly resembled at all the Casablanca of his imagination, except for the minarets and djellabas. There was no Rick’s Bar and certainly no eponymous black piano player. He met more possible Ricks in the dives of Tangiers than in the bustling run-down streets of the newly independent kingdom’s commercial capital. But in one way his holiday was no disappointment at all. The whores he sampled were amongst the very best. More

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