‘I have it with coffee, in the mornings sometimes.’ Coffee? Shona raised her eyebrows, and Ricky felt obliged to explain himself. ‘I’ve discovered that coffee is better at keeping me awake if I’ve had a long flight, or have a long day ahead. They drink a lot of coffee at work here in England. Sometimes you can’t even get tea. I guess I’ve just got used to it now. Coffee, I mean.’

At this uncharacteristic gabble Shona realized that her father was lying to her, but she had no idea why he would lie about something as inconsequential as coffee and brown sugar. Deciding not to let herself get distracted by her papa’s strange behaviour, she bravely plunged into the reason for her visit. ‘Papa, I need to ask you for something. Parvez would be furious if he knew that I was asking this, that’s why I had to come here.’ Ricky waited, on tenterhooks, saying nothing. ‘I’m going to need you to lend me some money. In fact, give me some money. It’s very important.’

Ricky tried to stop himself sighing with relief. How obvious it was, and how dense he’d been. His daughter, living in poverty in south London after her ill-advised love marriage, had something urgent to ask him - of course, it was just to ask for some cash. It was so simple, and so easily resolved. He could wave his pen like a magic wand over his cheque book, and make all his and her troubles go away with one magnanimous gesture.

‘Of course, Jaan. How much do you need, say about £500?’ Doubtless she needed the money for some unexpected repair, or to replace one of the old appliances in her kitchen.

Shona took a deep breath. ‘No, Papa, I think more like £15,000. Maybe even more.’

Ricky almost dropped his teacup. ‘Shona, are you in trouble? Is Parvez in trouble with his loan?’ He’d heard stories about these south London loan sharks, getting people into debt and charging outrageous interest. But how could they be so much in debt so soon? They’d not even been in England for a year. Shona realized instantly what her father was thinking, and reassured him quickly.

‘No, Papa, no. It’s nothing like that. It’s for something private, something medical.’

‘But are you ill, Jaan?’ asked Ricky with concern, looking at Shona critically. She had never looked healthier, but these women’s things sometimes didn’t show.

‘No, Papa, I’m not ill. Neither is Parvez. But I do need the money. Please don’t ask me to explain why.’