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I nodded. ‘Yes, that’s me. Are you Nihal?’ Things must be bad as I was positive the guy I’d spoken to briefly on Skype a few months ago was a lot younger and fresh-faced.
The old man chuckled. ‘No, I’m Deepak; Nihal is much uglier than I am. So, welcome to Delhi!’ His wrinkled face broke into a warm grin, flashing his blackened gums.
I smiled back, wiping a layer of sweat and grime from my flustered face. ‘Thank you. Erm, I’ve heard that the hotel has burnt down?’ I asked, wide-eyed.
Deepak huffed and muttered something under his breath. ‘No, Miss Green, that is a scam. They tell you that so they can take you to their hotel. Please don’t worry; everything is as it should be.’
I smiled weakly. Great. Five minutes after arriving and I’d almost fallen for a classic rookie scam. I bet Shelley would have heard about that one.
‘Oh OK. So, please, how do we get out of here?’
‘Wait, I have here that I need to pick up two women?’ He unfolded a piece of notepaper with Shelley’s name on.
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