‘Is there something wrong, Papa?’ asked Shona, disconcerted that for the last hour, her father hadn’t shown even the slightest sign of telling her off or commenting on her betrayal, as though it was already swept under the carpet and forgotten. He had hugged her with an unnatural bonhomie on his arrival, congratulated her on her Finals result (a respectable 2.I), told her enthusiastically about his interview and completely failed to mention either her marriage or her husband, or even comment on Parvez’s infuriating absence. Now he just seemed distracted. Perhaps it was all too much for him to take in after his long flight: her new life in England, coupled with her new conspicuous poverty, given away too easily by the downtrodden area in which they lived, and by the confusing subcontinental familiarity and tackiness of the Tooting tea shop in which her husband worked. And this despite her well-pressed English clothes with the trendy shoulder pads and her gleaming golden wedding ring. Perhaps he had arrived intending to tell her off, but now felt too sorry for her to say I Told You So. Was that why he was hiding behind this odd and uncharacteristic bravado? Shona wished she could have met him in town, perhaps at the Ritz, but she would not have been able to afford the bill. She surreptitiously glanced at the clock on the wall behind the tea-shop counter; Parvez had better come back from that damn Cash & Carry soon - tardiness was no way to give a good impression to a father-in-law. Her father was fidgeting with his watch strap distractedly, and showed no signs of having heard her. She hoped he would relax over dinner, berate her and Parvez, and get it over and done with. Shona sipped her tea, and cleared her throat noisily to ensure her father’s attention.

‘Of course, you’ll stay for dinner, Papa? You must meet Parvez, and you can see our flat, it’s just round the corner, we redecorated it ourselves.’ She was pleased that they had at least managed to move out of Bhai Hassan’s spare room in time for her father’s visit.

Ricky, who had been thinking about where he could take Verity for their date, looked up at his daughter’s wide eyes and lied with a merciless readiness that surprised even him.

‘Jaan, I was just thinking that I should head off soon. I have an early flight in the morning and I’m still jet-lagged from yesterday. And the interview took a lot out of me. I’m sorry, I know it’s been a long time.’