Uncle Ali and Aunt Sakina are exactly like you’d imagine, they’re immigrants who’ve stayed immigrants. Their life in France is the same as if they still lived in Algeria, it would be exactly the same if they lived on another planet. ‘Allah decides all things,’ they say, and that’s all there is to it. They’re good people, they don’t ask for much out of life, enough to eat, somewhere to sleep, a little peace, and now and then some news from the bled. They love getting letters. I used to have to read the letters to them and write the letters back. Back then I thought it was a pain, but now I look back on it fondly. Papa used to send them standard-issue letters: Dear Ali, just a few lines to let you know that I and the family are well. I hope that you, your wife and your children are well. We send you our love. Then he’d write a bit about life in the village, about the weather. Uncle Ali would write back: Dear Hassan, thank you for your letter which we received. We are happy to know that you are well. Allah be praised. Everything here is fine, the children send their love. Please write again soon. The peace of Allah be with you. I have sent the medicines you asked for, I hope they will arrive safely. If you need anything else, let me know. Then he’d write a bit about life on the estate, about the weather. I wrote dozens and dozens of letters, every one of them exactly the same – the only thing different was the date, the weather and the names of the medicines.

Now that I finally wanted to talk to them, I realised I didn’t know how to begin. We’d only ever talked in set phrases. Me saying, Hi Uncle Ali, Hi Aunt Sakina, I’m hungry, I’m going out, and them saying, Hello, Hello, Are you hungry? Can I get you some coffee? Put a coat on, you’ll get cold, God go with you. The rest was silence, politeness, the routine gestures of family life.

‘Am’ti, how did Papa and Uncle Ali meet?’

I have never seen my Aunt Sakina look surprised by anything. She answered perfectly calmly.

‘They were in the maquis together during the War of Independence, they became great friends, they were like brothers.’

‘Is that it? What about afterwards?’