texts: Listen to me, Katharine.  You've broken your ankle and I'm going to have to try and bind it.  I think your wrist might be broken, too, and some ribs, which is why it's hurting you to breathe.  I'm going to have to walk to El Taj.  Given all the traffic in the desert these days I should bump into one army or another before I reach there - or Fenelon-Barnes and his camel.  And then I'll be back and we'll be fine, and I'll never leave you.
labels: Do you promise?  I wouldn't want to die here.  I wouldn't want to die in the desert. I've always had a rather elaborate funeral in mind, with particular hymns.  Very English.  And I know exactly where I want to be buried.  In our garden.  Where I grew up. With a view of the sea.  So promise me you'll come back for me.