Moni gave a small tight laugh. ‘So this is about your phone, then. Because I banished it, you’re now saying all these mean things to me.’

‘They’re not mean. You look at Iman and instead of compassion, you’re all self-righteous.’

‘I’m not. I’m just pointing out that you’re holding her back, Salma. If you want to be a true friend, then help her stand on her own two feet. That’s what you need to be doing.’

To Salma’s surprise, Iman blurted out, ‘Salma, I do want to tell you something. I’ve changed. I do want to stand on my own two feet, like Moni says. I want to know where I’m heading. And you don’t guide me, Salma. You’re just happy for me to stay as I am, keeping you company, listening to your problems.’

For a minute Salma was lost for words. She turned from Moni to Iman.

‘She treats you like a pet,’ said Moni to Iman. ‘I see it every day . . .’

‘Stop,’ said Salma. ‘What’s going on? I’ve known Iman longer than you have. Don’t come between us, Moni. Stay out of it.’

‘That’s the problem, isn’t it? You want to move people about. Maybe you mean to be helpful and you are sometimes, I won’t deny it, but you sure are bossy.’

‘You’re interfering too,’ murmured Iman.

Salma, her body rigid with surprise, wondered where all this, this insubordination was coming from. ‘How dare you speak to me like that! The both of you. I will leave you. I will take the ferry, get in MY car, MINE, as you seem to have forgotten, and drive back without you. Then you can be stuck here if you’re so keen on independence.’

She knew she sounded ridiculous even as she spoke. Moni laughed out loud. Iman giggled. Trying to remain in control, Salma forced herself to smile as if she had been joking all along and the outburst had been in mock anger. But some of it she meant. The reminder that the car was hers, that she had driven them here and they were dependent on her to get them back. It was lame, she knew. This need to assert her authority, to remind them and put them in their place. She was squirming now and wanting the comfort of her phone, the messages from Amir. Through him, and with him, time had different proportions so that her life back home – yes, home in Egypt – became long and eventful, her life in this country short and flat. All the married years, the children growing up, condensed into a single episode, one that was busy but minor, full of details and events that all had the same colour.

She started to walk to the kitchen, to retrieve the phone from its banishment. Enough was enough.

‘Don’t you dare bring that stinky phone in here,’ said Moni.