On a patch of scrubby grass beneath the half-ruined ramparts of the Qasim Bagh Fort, set on a hill overlooking the centre of this ancient city, a child in a pale green shalwar kameez is running in to bowl.

His opponent is defending a set of stumps made from a pile of broken bricks; the fielders include a trio of coffee-coloured goats in the slips, grubbing through a pile of rubbish.

Further down the hill, at a crossroads where bicycles, mopeds, scooter-rickshaws and ox carts engage in a hectic, day-long battle for survival, boys are threading garlands of sweet-scented, red rose petals for pilgrims to carry to the vast shrine of the scholar Rukn-i-Alam, a 14th-century Mughal masterpiece of blue and turquoise tiling. Behind the garland-makers stands a row of gun shops where racks of Pakistani-made AK47 assault rifles await buyers at 9,000 rupees a pop.

This is not, you might think, a natural setting for Kevin Pietersen, cricketer-superstar.

As famous for his diamond ear-studs and his dead-skunk hairdo as for the century that took England to the brink of their historic victory at The Oval in September, the 25-year-old Pietersen was last seen escorting the model and socialite Caprice to a glittering awards ceremony, shortly after his name had briefly been linked with that of Paris Hilton during a trip to Hollywood.

"I don't want to be seen as cricket's David Beckham," he protested in a recent interview. "I want to be known as me. And I'm determined not to let fame go to my head."

Nevertheless, there have been mutterings that his keenness to enjoy the fruits of the summer's success might be in danger of getting in the way of the talent that brought him to prominence.

But now, two months after the party started, the hard work begins again. It is on his record with England that Pietersen's reputation will stand or fall; equally, a continuing contribution of real substance from him appears crucial to England's ability to sustain their challenge to Australia at the top of the world rankings, starting this weekend.

"As long as we can keep him grounded and he doesn't get too carried away with his celebrity status, this young man can become one of the very best," a rather po-faced Michael Vaughan suggested in his new autobiography.

Pietersen's performances in England's two warm-up matches on this tour appeared to support those who fear he has taken his eye off the ball. His 2 and 10 against the Patron's XI at Rawalpindi were followed by 4 and 0 against Pakistan A at Bagh-e-Jinnah. His dismissals in the second match, caught behind and leg-before to each of the opening bowlers, had some observers hinting that he might not have eradicated a weakness that is also a part of his greatest strength: the willingness to advance across his stumps as he prepares to turn a ball of full length, pitched around off stump, wide of mid-on.

It is a shot, blending anticipation, strong wrists and the power of his 6ft 4in frame, that he used to devastating effect against Australia. It remains to be seen whether over-confidence or shrewd bowling poses the greater threat to his ability to do what comes naturally.

For all his seeming fondness for life among the lotus-eaters, it was in the demanding environment of India, on an England A tour, that Pietersen's batting brought him into contention for a place in the first team.

And here, in a town famous for heat, dust, beggars and burial grounds, is where his reputation as a big-match player will be among the first to be put on the line. He may not be to all tastes, but the determination that drove a 19-year-old to leave home and realise his ambition in a foreign land is unlikely to have been entirely expended in one glorious summer splurge.