About two months later, Zaineb sent me a note through the secure internal correspondence requesting a meeting. With my new status as a junior officer, even if the content of the note had been knowledge within the office, it would not have mattered. We met in the office.

All Zaineb said was, “I would like tomorrow for us to make a short official trip in my car. It will be at mid-day and we will be gone for about forty minutes then return here. You need to bring your hijab and niqab with you.”

Fortunately, I had these, although the niqab was dying out somewhat with my generation, still we had to have them both available for formal occasions.

“Sure, do I put the niqab on in here or in the car?” I replied,

Zaineb smiled and said, “It would look odd if you put it on in the office. No one does nowadays. So put it on in the car.”

I always wore the hijab on the way to and from the office. You could choose to wear it in the office or take it off. Some wore it, usually the older generation. I usually took mine off but kept it and a spare handy for visiting the office of a male or senior colleague as a mark of respect. None of the ladies wore the niqab in the office, not even the few religious types.

The next day came. We parked in a car park overlooking the road leading to the city, close to the women’s prison. I was in full kit, hijab and niqab, and so was Zaineb.

“What is this about?” I asked.

Zaineb replied, “Right now, some poor girl is in prison getting a sore bum. One of the male witnesses today is one of the few non-national Senior Officers. He came today to witness the proceedings. I want you to see him as he drives past after the caning is over. He will be on his way to a meeting downtown.

“Once you have seen him, we go back to the office. In there, I am going to show you a lot more detail about him. Right now, just concentrate on getting a good look at him. In hijab and niqab, he will not recognise you. I have to tell you he was a witness at your second caning. They brought your caning forward as he was available as a witness on that day.”

Where all this was heading? I wondered, looking at Zaineb. It was official, so I didn’t ask questions.

Zaineb smiled and said, “Now is not the time for questions. Back in the office, I want you to look at the file and take your time over it. But ask no questions in the office please, just concentrate on the file. We need to meet again out of the office and in secret.”

She opened the glove box of her car and there was an envelope in there.

Zaineb continued, “Take that envelope home and read it. Do not open it now. The content is the suggestion for our next meeting, which I plan to hold in such a way that it looks entirely innocent.”

I put the envelope in the inside pocket of my abaya, so no one would know it was there.

Zaineb said, “Read the note in the envelope at home. If you agree with its suggestion, send me a note in a secure office internal mail envelope about any topic. Put a small letter Y in the bottom right-hand corner. If you do that, I will act on the note contents.

“If you want another quick meeting first, put a letter M in the corner and if you flat refuse, and you can refuse, put a letter N in the corner. That will end the matter.

“Do nothing until you have looked at the folder in the office and have read the note at home. Do NOT open the envelope in the office and do not lose or drop it. “

Zaineb said, “Get ready, here he comes.”

The man drove past in a Police Range Rover. He was in uniform and did not look our way. He was concentrating on his driving, but I got a good look at him.

Zaineb said, “OK, that’s done. I saw you got a good look at him. Keep your niqab on until we get on the road and then take it off. I do not want you to go into the office wearing one.”

She took off her niqab before driving out of the car park. It would not be possible to do it safely when driving. Back at work, I went with Zaineb to her office.

Zaineb locked the door, handing me a file, which she took out of her security cupboard. It was all about the officer I had just seen, and I mean ALL about him.

Zaineb said, “Look at his experience and qualifications. Look at our comments on him and look at his background, property ownership, financial status etc., in the UK. We can discuss it later.”

Zaineb put her finger to her lips. She wanted me to remain silent while looking at the file. Reading through the file at least twice, I needed to learn many of the important details, so made a sign for her to give me a pen and paper.

Zaineb did so, and I wrote critical details about the man. I guess I filled up one A4 piece of paper with details. Folding the paper, I put it in my abaya pocket

“It’s time for me to get on with my other stuff,” I said to Zaineb

She smiled, and I left for my desk. That evening at home, I read the note from the envelope she had given me. It was all about the proposed meeting. She had suggested that the two of us in her car on the next Saturday would drive to a point on the coast, where there would be big surf running.

We would photograph the surf; hang about for half an hour, and then leave. The track to the coast at first ran parallel to it. Close where it turned inland, there was another little track to an abandoned lookout point. On the way back, we could drive up that track and soon park quietly, assuming that nobody followed us.

Back in the office the next day, I sent Zaineb my reply first thing on arrival through secure internal mail. It was a note agreeing to staff rota changes, and I put a small Y in the bottom right-hand corner as requested.

Later in the morning, I got a note back from Zaineb saying she would pick me up on the Saturday at agreed time. She asked me to send the note immediately back with a Y in the bottom right-hand corner to show I had fully understood the instructions.

Saturday came around. Zaineb arrived on time and we left for the coast. It was about a two-hour drive. When we arrived, a few other people were looking at the surf. We got out and took photographs, hanging around for about half an hour as planned. No one paid much attention to us.

We got back in the car and drove out of the car park. No one followed, and we found the little track. We drove for about four kilometres before Zaineb parked behind some thorn bushes. She switched off the engine, and we talked.

Zaineb said, “What did you think about that man whose file I showed you?”

I replied, “He seems a very genuine person. He is extremely competent, and I can see he is very much admired by our staff and personnel. He has done a lot for our country. The comments about him from our staff are simply excellent.”

“Exactly,” said Zaineb. “I want to recruit him to our plan.

“But this will take time. This city is a hothouse. If I sneeze here in the office and then drive for twenty minutes to another office, at the other end they will know I have a cold before I arrive. We cannot fully recruit him here, but we can ‘warm him up.’

“He is, of course, already on the committee, which is why we need him. We can get him to say things that our people cannot because of the restrictions of our society.

“He can say those things because our guys agree with him, but dare not say them. They need the chance to agree once we lay those things out in the open.”

I couldn’t disagree with that.

Zaineb continued, “The department will hold the important committee meeting next week. I met in secret with that man last week here in the same place and I talked to him about the moderate elements’ view of our problems. I think he was partly aware of them but didn’t realise quite how serious the situation could be.

“I dropped the idea that he should talk about the possibility that the younger generation here is about to complain and publish in the West. They will complain about things they hate in our society. We in security at our level are well aware that they are planning to do exactly that.

“If that happens, it would be a disaster. The way out of it is to get the religious element on the committee to back away from some, or preferably all, of the extreme things they want to do.

“I reminded him about the ‘Death of a Princess’ documentary that was on the air in the UK a few years ago. It did the country concerned a lot of damage. We want nothing like that to happen here.

“I think I have persuaded him to use that as an example of what might happen to us if our young people feel dissatisfied and threatened by the religious element. I think he will get up at the meeting and talk about the ‘Death of the Princess’ matter.

“He will say that our country is nothing like as wealthy and powerful as the country which was the subject of ‘Death of the Princess’. Our government must take care regarding world opinion; the UN is watching us.

“This country is not in the same financial category as that other lot and we can’t afford any kind of disaster or to frighten away foreign investors. I think many of the younger people on the committee will agree with him if he can say his piece.

“Then we can get on top of the religious elements and get them under control.”

Matters were moving at a surprising pace. The next few days would be critical. This was clear after my clandestine meeting with Zaineb.

Zaineb finally said, “What have you done with the note I wrote you and the notes you made on that piece of paper, please?”

I replied, “I have brought them with me just in case.”

Zaineb said, “We should destroy them. I brought some matches. Can we burn them, please?”

We burned the note and my page of notes by the side of the track, scattering the ashes. I wondered what would happen next and commented on this to Zaineb.

Zaineb replied, “We need to wait for the outcome of the committee meeting. That will determine what we do. The future is always unknowable. If the committee meeting goes well, we can update the plan. It may very well become ‘official’ if things go well. Then we can act accordingly.

“You have not yet seen the area of the office where we do that sort of thing. You learned more when you made the ‘Junior Officer’ grade and you have a lot further to go.

“So let us wait for the outcome of the committee meeting. I will get to hear soon, anyway. I will let you know what the plan will be from now on as soon as it becomes clear. Do not do or say anything in the meantime.

“In an emergency, we can meet at the running track at seven p.m. If either of us sends the other a note with the letter E in the lower right-hand corner, that’s what we will do on the day I send the note. If one of us is not there, we try the next night. This is safe because it’s a private arrangement between the two of us.”

Zaineb drove us back to the city and at home, I wondered where this was leading. Life looked like it was going to become a lot more interesting.

All was quiet at work. The day of the committee meeting came and went. Things must have gone well because the next day, the director called a staff meeting. He told all the staff that there would be changes coming to our penal code. These were still to be decided, and we were not to make any comment in public or in private but to wait for the official news from the government.

We carried on at work. Zaineb sent me a note with the letter E in the bottom right-hand corner. That evening at the running track, we went for a slow run and jog. She said I was about to have my security clearance increased and I would hear about it officially in a few days and to wait patiently.

Zaineb told me it was excellent news. Some things we talked about would eventually become official policy. She said I was going to be very busy over the next few months and would be spending time in the UK. I didn’t ask questions and resolved to wait. But I could not help but wonder what it was all about. We went home.

At home, Salma had noticed that I seemed to be less tense and happier, not that I had ever been miserable. I hadn’t had sex for about four months. It was three months since my last caning. I was desperate for the need of sexual relief. It was late on a Saturday afternoon and the parents would be out for a while.

“Salma,” I began, “I’m so horny. They must not catch me again. What can I do?”

Salma grinned and went to her wardrobe where the canes hung from their crook ends. She got out the medium one.

“How many strokes?” she asked. “Neither of us has received a caning for ages. My last time was like almost six months ago when we did it just after you got out of prison and before I took my exams. I forgot to ask you for a caning before I left for university. I was so busy and so were you.”

Salma was just back from her first term at her UK university.

“Cane me first,” she begged.

“When it’s my turn, I do not want that medium cane,” I replied. “I do not mind the thinner one, though.”

Salma was more of a cane junkie than me.

Salma said, “I need that medium one. I had it once before, but only six strokes. I need to find out what twelve will be like.”

“Be careful what you wish for,” I said. “The prison cane resembled our thin one, and it broke my skin in several places. That caning woman in the prison carried it out with full force. I heard a terrific whistle of the cane moving through the air. I would have to restrain you before I gave you a hard caning with the medium cane.

“There is something else. The prison doctor liked me and I think admired the way I had taken twelve strokes well, if a bit noisily. I did not feel sorry for myself in the end.

“She told me that the canings were a punishment and not designed to inflict long-term damage.

“She said that they used the thin cane because a lot of strokes from the medium cane, always given at maximum force, could cause nerve damage. This could afterwards result in the girl walking with a limp or not being able to walk in the worst case.

“That was excessive and not the point of the punishment.

“The last time, when I gave you six strokes of the medium cane, I did it quite hard. But I could have done it a lot harder. If you want twelve strokes given seriously hard, then I think it needs to be the thin cane.

“How would you like me to use the cane they used on me in prison? Did you know I kept it as a memento?”

Salma looked at me and said, “No, you never told me before and Mother never mentioned it. Could I see it, please?”

The cardboard tube containing the prison cane was in my wardrobe. I took out the cane. It turned out on inspection to be a little longer than our thin cane and only slightly thicker. It was certainly thinner than our medium cane by quite a margin.

Salma took hold of it and said, “OK, I agree, please use this one on me; it will be good for me to experience exactly what you went through.

“I thought that one day I ought to be restrained and caned like they do in prison. I have worked out a way for you to secure me over two chairs tied together back to back. I’ve got several lengths of rope hidden in my room, just ready for the day.”

The wicked girl! “Show me the ropes,” I demanded.

Salma rummaged about in a drawer and pulled out some soft braided lengths of what looked to me like the ropes used to control the sails on small boats and I said as much.

Salma said, “Yes, that’s right, I bought them at that boating store. They did not know why I wanted them, but they never asked. There’s enough rope to tie the chairs together and tie eight or...