Ana was afflicted by an illness which distorted her senses, brought her to hot flushes and dominated her every waking moment, but an illness so pleasurable and delightful she mourned rather that she’d never been so afflicted before. She was in love. She was totally and passionately in love. For the first time she understood and relished every word of every love song. They were written for her. They expressed the feelings she had. She observed courting couples on the bus or in the park with a warmth and affection she’d never felt before. Her heart was truly light, she walked on a cushion of air and everything was wonderful.

Even at work, those awkward moments when there was nothing to do and she was waiting for her next assignment became full with reflections on and images of her lover. Binta smiling. Binta laughing. The things she would say as they nuzzled together under the silk sheets. Everywhere was imprinted with her image. It was so vivid. As was the remembrance of her voice heard so clearly in her mind’s ear, reassuring and comforting her. The memory of the image, touch and warmth of Binta’s naked skin. She could almost feel her flesh against her fingers as she averted her gaze away from the calendar of semi-clad women on the office wall towards the clouds wisping through the deep blue sky. She smiled to herself again, as she did so often these days.

“You look pretty pleased with yourself!” remarked Khedra, popping by to leave an envelope in the Director’s in-tray. “A good day’s work?”

Ana nodded - her mind focusing on the evening ahead when again, like every evening when Binta wasn’t working, hours of patient reflection were to be rewarded by a passionate and close embrace. When, again, she and Binta would idly slump on the sheets and spend long unhurried hours together, never bored with each other’s company and never lost for anything to say. Indeed, she had come to dread the inevitable rude bell of Binta’s alarm clock in the morning that told her to get dressed and return to the office.

Weekends were particularly pleasant, especially when Binta didn’t have to work. No alarm clock and no reason to get up. A day together without interruption and free from anxiety. A day of relaxation and calm.

It was during such a weekend she and Binta were lying beneath the sheets spent by their mutual exertions, a sweet smell adhering to Ana’s fingers and a faint odour of shared sweat. Ana gazed at the ceiling, studying the faint spidery cracks in the plaster, her head resting on Binta’s shoulder, smiling with sensual satisfaction.

“Hiya!” Ana suddenly heard. “I saw you weren’t working so I ...” Whose voice was that? Who was it addressed to? She raised her head to see the naked figure of Ketaba framed by the door and looking rather startled. “Oh! ... I see you’ve got company, Binta. I didn’t know! And goodness me! It’s Ana! I’d never have guessed! Ana!”

“Hello Ketaba,” greeted Binta reluctantly, disengaging herself from the weight of her lover’s body. “Didn’t anybody tell you to knock before coming in?”

Ketaba looked rather embarrassed. More embarrassed even than Ana who hastily pulled up the sheets to cover her breasts. “I didn’t know! It’s usually okay! I just didn’t think... And with Ana, too! I thought she had more sense!”

“Don’t start preaching, Ketaba,” said Binta sternly. “If you want to stay here, fine! But don’t upset poor Ana. And close the door!”

Ketaba nodded sheepishly and eased the door behind her. She sat by the mirror, lifted up her hair and dropped it down loosely behind the chair. Binta reluctantly pulled herself out from between the sheets and sat on the edge of the bed facing Ketaba.

“So how are you today, Ketaba? You’re not working now, are you?”

“No, I don’t start for a few hours. I’m between shifts. I volunteered for overtime. Towards the cost of a holiday, you know.”

“Are you doing two shifts in one day?” exclaimed Binta. “I would have thought once was enough for anyone. Surely even you must be tired by now and looking forward to nothing better than a rest.”

“The money helps, you know. I’ve never been one to turn down the opportunity of a bit of extra work...”

“And it keeps you fit as well?” Binta sneered. “I can’t believe that you’re ever short of money. With your dedication to the profession you must be one of the most highly paid prostitutes in the whole Brothel. And you probably make as much again from clients’ gratuities. What do you want the money for?”

Ketaba seemed unbalanced by Binta’s criticism as if she’d never really considered that question before. She glanced at Ana lying under the sheets, of whom only her shoulders and head were visible. The silk sheets did nothing to disguise the contours of Ana’s body, but in the presence of two naked women what could that possibly matter? Ketaba’s stare seemed to linger rather longer than necessary, and when she returned her gaze to Binta a flicker of guilt seemed to pass across her heavy-lidded eyes.

“There must be a reason, Ketaba, for you to want to work all these extra hours. Do you really relish your work so much that you can’t bear to rest from it?”

“Unlike you, Binta, I enjoy the company of my clients. They may not be the most handsome or attractive people there are, but with few exceptions they are essentially decent people who are happy with the services I provide. And I am happy to satisfy them. There is an art, a skill, to prostitution and, if nothing else, I get considerable professional satisfaction from doing a worthwhile job well. I have many regulars, and when you become more familiar with the same clients you soon think of them as more than so much inadequate meat. And they soon come to respect you ever more. Your problem, Binta, is not just your dubious sexual preferences, but that you never show any sympathy or understanding towards the men who come to see you.”

Ana found Ketaba’s description slightly comforting. “You make it sound like you’re more of a nurse or social worker than a prostitute,” she remarked. The image allowed her to regard Binta’s work with more equanimity.

“That’s an interesting and fair comparison. Quite often the clients want from me not the services for which I am so expertly equipped and trained to provide, but just for a sympathetic ear. Many have no one else they can speak to. They may have no wife or lover and few friends. They may be locked in a loveless and unhappy marriage. They may have worries and concerns with business or health that they can’t off-load on anyone else. And I tell you, Binta, that when you speak to your clients like that they soon become more human and you get quite fond of them. There is one client I have who spends more than two hours a week with me, and all he ever does is talk about how his estranged wife extracts ever more money from him...”

“...when you’re not doing it yourself!” sniffed Binta. “Your services don’t exactly come cheap, and with your ratings you must be bleeding your clients dry. Not that I care much for them if you did!”

“It’s no wonder you have such a miserable time working here with attitudes like that! You really ought to try and get to know your clients better. Your gratuities will increase dramatically, your work won’t seem nearly as arduous and you may even improve your PAR. Try it and see!”

“I appreciate your kind advice, Ketaba,” Binta responded conciliatorily. “But if you don’t like men at all to begin with, you’re not going to be particular sincere about wanting to know them better. They really are irredeemably loathsome, and my daily ordeal only further reinforces that opinion!”

“It’s your whole outlook on life that’s poisoning you, Binta. And your disgusting perversions are just an aspect of the poison creeping through your soul. You need a much more positive, outward-going, life-inspiring attitude. You need to examine deep inside yourself, release your pent-up energies and confront your karma. Nurture the inner goodness that must reside in you, - otherwise you wouldn’t adopt the life-enhancing practice of naturism, - let it swell inside you and release a torrent of positive vibrations onto the world around you. If you feel good, you inspire good feelings. And good feelings make you feel good. A virtuous cycle which can do you no harm!”

“And how is that going to improve my life as a prostitute? I don’t exactly have a great deal of opportunity to meditate or empathise with my clients. All they want and all the gratification they desire is released within seconds with no respect at all for the finer feelings of the women who collect our soiled laundry every day. I’m sure my goodness would flourish considerably better elsewhere.”

Ketaba smiled. “You don’t understand me at all, Binta. Your spiritual and mental health are, and should be, utterly distinct from the environment you’re in. Sure, a good and healthy environment like Agdal, with the heat of the sun on naked flesh and plenty of healthy amenities, is far more conducive to a positive vibe than a life confined by the Brothel walls. But one can have an inner peace, an Agdal within, which can flourish in any place and withstand all trials and tribulations. One’s soul can soar to the stars even when one’s body is caged in rooms of satin, silk and polyester carpets.”

“You’re talking nonsense, Ketaba. You really have to be blinkered to get any kind of enlightenment here. Tell me then, for the sake of argument, what I have to do to achieve an inner peace? Perhaps Ana will be inspired even if I won’t be.”

“I can’t imagine Ana being at all inspired in the atmosphere of your cynicism and doubt,” Ketaba said ruefully, but smiling affectionately at Binta’s lover. “But what you have to remember first of all is that a healthy mind comes with a healthy body. If one has good health coursing through your body, you look good, you feel good and it does you good. Plenty of exercise. That’s the order of the day.”

“We often go swimming,” Ana remarked, aware that recently they had been rather less often than before, as the excuse for doing so had come to seem superfluous.

“Swimming is good. Very good!” Ketaba approved. “As is weight training, jogging, walking, squash and contact sports. However, nothing can beat the all-round value of making love in building up a healthy and efficient body. No other exercise is as good at exercising the abdominal muscles, the upper torso, providing fast and rapid breathing exercises and exerting the heart. It makes you feel good afterwards and the perspiration cleans the skin of really deep ingrained dirt.”

“Maybe it does when you make love with your clients, Ketaba. The clients simply leave me unsightly bruises around my upper legs and a feeling of relief when they’re finally through the door...”

“Again, Binta, it’s your attitude that is at fault. If you had a more positive attitude then you wouldn’t find the exercise so unpleasant. Besides I’m sure that not all your lovemaking is as you describe it.” She glanced meaningfully at Ana lying stretched out under the sheets, who blushed at the implication. She shyly looked at Binta who had followed Ketaba’s gaze and smiled into Ana’s eyes. Ana smiled back, and a rush of emotion caught the back of her throat. She was so much in love!

Ketaba seemed embarrassed by the love expressed in Ana’s smile, and hesitated before continuing to elaborate on her philosophy of life. “So, a healthy body is vital. And a prostitute’s life assures this. Diet is also important. Remember, you are what you eat: so it is necessary not to pollute the body with the unclean flesh of dead animals that have after all spent most of their lives consuming faeces-covered grass and rotting silage. One must have a balance of vitamins, minerals and, most important of all, an exact balance of calorific input with the energy output for a balanced body weight and a healthy constitution. I always keep an accurate measure of exactly how many calories I consume and my estimated output, and adjust my diet accordingly.”

“Are you a vegetarian merely because of what the animals you eat have eaten?” Binta wondered.

“Of course not. A rounded person must have due respect for all living beings and eating them is disrespectful as well as unclean,” Ketaba replied. “One should also take care of the mind and soul. Meditation is essential. Take time to sit in a relaxed position with the back straight and the legs crossed in the lotus position, clear the mind of thoughts positive and negative, and enter a void where the mind can take a vacation and the soul can soar unfettered from the trivial worries of the day. Sleep well, and adopt a regime of regular exercise, regular meditation and self-examination.”

“Self-examination?” wondered Ana, thinking that maybe Ketaba was about to enthuse on an activity of which she had been quite ashamed until Binta had encouraged her in it.

“Yes. Self-examination. Study the deep, hidden crevices of the soul. Share the inner meanings and conflicts with others. I go to seminars each week where we confide our darkest worries and most intimate secrets; listen to each other with respect; applaud the courage of breaking free from the confines of embarrassment and self-consciousness; break down the barriers that divide people from people; and recognise our own deep loneliness.”

“It really doesn’t sound much like fun to me,” Binta remarked. “What do you think, Ana?”

Ana hadn’t really been paying very much attention. Her contemplations had mostly concentrated on her lover and her beauty. She gazed at Ketaba, sensing that Binta was taking psychological advantage of her relationship to put her colleague ill at ease. She smiled, not wanting to offend, sure that Ketaba’s intention was only to give the best advice.

“I’m sure there’s something in what Ketaba’s saying.”

“And what is that?” Binta continued. “Health, vegetables, meditation and shouting sessions with a bunch of neurotics. I think I’d rather remain an unreconstructed failure. And I can’t see it making me any happier with my rôle as a prostitute.”

Ana felt rather embarrassed for Ketaba: she didn’t deserve the scorn Binta showered on her. She crouched up in the bed, pulling the sheets into a bundle around her chest and over her legs. “I’ve not seen much of you recently, Ketaba. And I’m sure your tan is deeper. Have you been away somewhere?”

“Yes, I have! I’ve been in Agdal for a fortnight’s holiday. It’s been a wonderful break. Across the mountains and on the beaches. Two weeks totally unencumbered by clothes or petty prejudices. I thought you already knew?”

“I knew well enough, Ketaba, but Ana doesn’t get to meet you as often as I do,” Binta explained. “I gather that exit visas are very expensive. Perhaps that’s why you have to work so hard?”

“Yes, they are. Yet again, I had to bribe someone at the passport office. And there were even more people to bribe at the border crossing. But you get used to that. Alif doesn’t make it easy for its people to leave and it’s not that welcoming coming back either. My luggage was thrown all over the place at customs. They said they were searching for alcohol, pornography and contraband, but the things they confiscated like a portable radio and a hair-drier (both of which I’d bought in Agdal) weren’t on any list of prohibited goods I’ve ever seen!”

“It must have made you wonder why you ever came back!” remarked Binta, more sympathetically. “What did you do on holiday? You didn’t do much meditation did you?”

“A little. But mostly I took advantage of the superb sports facilities at the hotels and lodges I stayed at. The swimming pools and gyms were excellent. All the latest equipment!” Ketaba pulled back her shoulders and flexed the lean muscles on her arms which Ana found genuinely impressive. She then tensed her waist and Ana admired the tautness of its muscles - quite unlike the slight looseness of her own slender waist. “And when I wasn’t in the gym or pool, it was up in the mountains and valleys with sturdy boots and a rucksack on my back. I walked for miles over those crags. It’s even hillier than Jebel, Binta, but you can’t wander around Jebel in so few clothes. I was lazier on this holiday than on an earlier one where I’d been on a sort of group outing with others intent on enjoying the great outdoors...”

“Did you spend your time shouting and screaming at each other on that holiday?”

“Don’t be facetious, Binta. It wasn’t a self-awareness holiday. It was a trekking holiday. The idea was to spend time in a group far away from the hotels and lodges, sleeping under canvass and getting to know each other better. That was a wonderful time. We managed to go miles without meeting a single soul. And when you’re that remote you need the company of other people. You can easily get lost. One hill looks pretty much the same as another when you’re surrounded by them and there aren’t any obvious landmarks.”

“A good opportunity for you all to bare your souls to each other, I suppose?” Binta sneered. “You can all tell each other your most embarrassing secrets and feel sorry for each other.”

“You make it sound as if that’s something to be ashamed of, Binta. It’d do you a great deal of good if you tried doing that. Mind you, it can be quite an embarrassment in Agdal. Many people go there from countries like Alif not because they’re confirmed naturists, but for quite different reasons. I have to admit that although there are plenty of naturists in Agdal, they’re pretty much in a minority. Other people go for the alcohol and drugs. They spend much of their time sitting in bars where alcohol is sold openly over the counter, not even requiring a medical licence. The only restrictions on alcohol and other drugs relate to age rather than ethical or medical issues. Some go there because they’re homosexual. You get to meet homosexual men and women, - dykes like you, Binta, and ...”

Ketaba stumbled in her flow. It was clear to Ana that she had intended to mention her name, but something prevented her from being so bold. Ana wasn’t sure whether she should feel flattered by this or worried that it suggested that Ketaba didn’t take her relationship seriously. Ketaba actually appeared to blush, and then she digressed slightly.

“Some people go to Agdal for spiritual awareness. All sorts of religions are practised in the country. Shrines are scattered all about the place for one faith or another. That’s one big difference between Alif and Agdal. There’s only one faith widely practised in Alif, but all possible faiths abound in Agdal. Maybe it’s because of this diversity that the country is liberal in so many ways. Whatever it is, you often meet people who go to Agdal to consult gurus or to worship at particular temples. I find it interesting to discuss astrology or the tarot or the I Ching with the people there...”

“You’re not into that sort of mystical mumbo-jumbo as well are you?”

“Why can’t I have a healthy curiosity, Binta? Surely it’s better than dismissing the occult and the mystical with no justification. Yes, I do believe that the precise moment of one’s birth and its precise location has a great deal of importance. You ought to find out more about such things yourself before dismissing them...”

“I’m not sure I have the time to get involved in a load of self-indulgent nonsense. What do you think, Ana? Would you be interested in having your palm read, your stars interpreted and a throw of coins analysed?”

“I’m sure it would be very interesting,” Ana answered diplomatically. She had no wish to upset Ketaba however much she might disapprove of homosexuality. “I don’t know if there’s anything in it, but there might be...”

“Well, if that’s what you want to do, Ana...” Binta remarked without further comment. She smiled at Ketaba. “Did you take many photographs of your stay in Agdal?”

“Why yes, I did as a matter of fact. And unlike last time I was able to get my camera back into the country without having it confiscated or having the film torn out. I was sensible enough to take an Alif camera with me that had none of the extra value an imported camera might have. I took loads of pictures of the places I visited and the people I met. Do you want to see them?”

“Oh yes!” Ana said enthusiastically.

She had always enjoyed looking at holiday photos when she was at home in Rif . Somehow they seemed more real and engaging than the glossy pictures in Geography text books. She also found the idea of visiting Agdal very attractive, particularly in the light of its liberal attitudes towards lesbianism. Her sketchy knowledge of its principal mountain ranges and agricultural exports didn’t really give her a very clear idea of what the neighbouring country looked like, and she understood better now why she had heard so little about it before.

“Perhaps I can bring them in to the Brothel sometime and show you. Or perhaps...” Ketaba hesitated, as if she was about to be very bold, but with a slight impulsiveness she continued, “... perhaps I can show you them in a more conducive place than the Brothel. Perhaps at my flat?”

“Your flat?” Ana responded. That would be interesting. She lived in the Honey district, where all the better paid prostitutes chose to live. “Oh yes, I don’t see why not.”

“Well just say when. I can prepare a meal and make more of an evening of it if you like. What do you think?”

“I think it sounds a wonderful idea.” Ana looked sympathetically at Binta who seemed strangely subdued by Ana’s enthusiasm. “It’s a shame you can’t come as well, Binta. I’m sure Ketaba would invite you as well if she could. Wouldn’t you, Ketaba?”

Ketaba nodded eagerly, and Binta appeared reassured by this, but not wholly so. When Ketaba left for work, Binta seemed rather thoughtful. She evaded all reference to Ketaba and Agdal, despite Ana’s excited questions about either of them. Ana wondered whether Binta was jealous of Ketaba: but how could that be when she was so determinedly opposed to homosexual behaviour of any kind.