The more they slept apart – she with Adam and Murtada on his own – the more they disliked each other. Murtada was not comfortable with Adam and she could not forgive him for this. Just the sight of Adam depressed Murtada. He would gaze at him with bewilderment and dismay. Murtada wanted a cure, he wanted state-of-the-art surgery and strong medication. It took him time to accept that nothing could be done. When he did accept this fact, after an inner tussle and genuine agony, he wrote Adam off. He shelved him. We must go on and live our lives as fully as possible, he said to Moni. We must have other children. We must be happy. We cannot let his condition rule us. All this fell on deaf ears. Moni was busy. Busier than she had ever been in her life, and more important. You’re a good mum, the nurses said. You’re doing a brilliant job. A job that was hard but encompassing and all-absorbing, rousing all her sincerity and resilience. Looking after Adam, Moni became stronger. Father of a disabled son, Murtada became weaker. He was in Saudi Arabia now, in a new job, still on probation. He wanted Moni and Adam to join him but wasn’t yet in a position to bring them over. This distance apart suited Moni.

‘So many trucks,’ Iman was saying. She was watching the road as if she herself were driving. She could neither drive nor afford to take lessons and admired Salma’s flair in overtaking the slower vehicles. ‘Even if I ever get my licence, I won’t drive on these big roads. I’ll stick to the city.’

‘When you get your licence,’ Salma corrected her. ‘Say inshallah.’

‘Inshallah.’

‘It’s you, Moni, who really needs to drive.’ Salma glanced up at the mirror. ‘It will help you with Adam. Make taking up lessons your resolution after we get back from this holiday. Honestly, it will change your life.’

Moni smiled but didn’t reply. Salma was right of course, but she had no energy for self-improvement. Nor could she be bothered to explain to Salma that she used to drive before she moved to Scotland. All she needed were a few refresher lessons and to study the British Highway Code, then take the test. Perhaps. The old Moni wouldn’t have hesitated. Before his birth and after his birth. That was her life, split right in the middle. Adam was her first baby and she didn’t know what to expect. When he was born he looked odd and couldn’t feed, but she wasn’t sure what was wrong. She had no one to compare him with. Then it was one hammer blow after the other, extra days in the hospital, the doctors not sure what was wrong. Denial, clutching at straws, the minute-by-minute challenge to cope. A long time, or so it felt, before the correct diagnosis, the reality check, the sinking in of the truth that Adam was not a healthy, normal baby.