The flash dazzled me. Gasping, I put my hand up to shield my eyes. A man had flung open the door from the bathroom: a man in a dark overcoat and trilby hat, with a camera round his neck and a flash bulb in his hand. I drew breath to scream, but someone came up behind me and put their arm round my throat. A strong, masculine arm. I was dragged backwards towards the bed, pushed down and held there. Astoundingly, the man pinning my shoulders to the pillows was David.

“What are you doing?” I demanded, half-blinded by the curtain of hair that had fallen over my face during our struggle. “Call the manager! This man is a criminal! Call the police!”

The man had a straggly moustache and looked unwashed. I was sure we had fallen victim to one of the “dubious types” David had warned me about, an obvious blackmailer. But David didn’t seem to care. He kicked my suitcase and the silver dress to the floor, his face grim, perspiration gleaming on his forehead. “Shut up!” he hissed. “He’s not a criminal, you little idiot!”

“But—”

I was silenced by his hand over my mouth. It was then I realized that he did not have his shirt on. His braces hung loose, and the top button of his trousers was undone. Real fear gripped me; my body seemed cold and unaccountably heavy. Again I tried to scream but produced only a sort of whimper. “If you make a sound,” David told me, “I’ll turn you out into the street, half naked or not.”

He took his hand away from my mouth but grasped my face between both his hands and pressed his lips to mine. I heard the click-squawk of the camera, and there was a flash. “Got that one, sir,” said the man.

Strain as I might, I could not move. David’s superior weight and strength held me where I was. He pulled down the straps of my petticoat. Another click-squawk, another flash. He grabbed me by the elbows and thrust my arms around his waist. Before I could retrieve them, there was another click, another squawk, another flash. I tried to sit up; again and again David pushed me down.

“Got enough, I think, sir,” said the man, lowering the flash bulb.

“Good,” said David. “Now get those developed straight away. I’ll be in touch.”

The man disappeared into the corridor, shutting the door softly behind him. David swung his legs off the bed and began to button his trousers. “God, I need a drink.”

I had been too shocked to cry, but now the tears came. “David, will you please tell me what’s going on?”