Shona reached for Omar’s pomegranate juice and, taking a sip, an underlined phrase in his notes caught her eye. ‘Shklovskij: People living at the seashore grow so accustomed to the murmur of the waves that they never hear them.’ Intrigued, Shona sat down and read on, the lines copied out by Omar’s neat, precise hand. ‘By the same token, we scarcely ever hear the words which we utter …’ That was all, it was the last thing he had written; she must have interrupted him before he finished writing out the rest. She picked up the book Omar had been reading to see if there was any more, and his bookmark fell out. A slim copper bookmark, engraved with an etching of New College and ‘Omar R Khan’. On the back, also engraved, was ‘Yours, JO’. So that was the name of Omar’s new girlfriend. Jo. She replaced the bookmark, and found the rest of the phrase in the book: ‘ … we scarcely ever hear the words which we utter … we look at each other, but we do not see each other any more’. Her father’s words in the hospital echoed back to her; she had agreed not to see his double life, if he had not seen hers.

When Omar came back, he was flushed with excitement. ‘Jim’s been having a miserable time in Portugal, he’s already planning his next holiday. He’s organizing some trip to go clubbing in Ibiza. I thought I might go, too.’

‘Sure, if you can afford it,’ Shona said. ‘You don’t have to ask. Will your girlfriend be going, too?’

‘I wasn’t asking, Ma,’ Omar said with slight reproach. ‘I’m a grown-up, and I’ll find some work when I get back to pay for it all. And don’t worry about girls, Oakley’s insisting that this is a lads-only trip.’

‘I’m not sure that sounds like any less to worry about,’ said Shona dryly. ‘And who’s Oakley?’

‘Oakley is Jim’s surname, I call him Oakley sometimes,’ said Omar, sitting back at the desk and getting out his mobile. ‘I’m going to text Sharif and tell him, he’ll be sooo jealous; he always wanted to go clubbing in Ibiza, but can’t, what with all his … urn,’ Omar hesitated for no apparent reason, before saying, ’work commitments.’ He got back up again. ‘In fact, I’m going to email him so I can gloat properly …’

‘Well, it’s about time he started to take his work seriously,’ Shona said. ‘I don’t know what else he’s doing with his time. Your Abbu says his constant absenteeism is getting beyond a joke. And send him my love.’