‘Jaan, that’s a lot of money, I’ll have to talk to your mother about it.’ Ricky was thinking about the wedding and honeymoon that he had already paid for, and the plans that he had to buy a house with Verity. He had done a great deal of creative accounting so that Henna would not suspect the enormous sums he was siphoning off his salary each month; fortunately, an increase in his salary had ensured he could continue sending an acceptable sum back to Bangladesh.

‘Papa, please. I don’t want Amma to know. I don’t want anyone to know. It’s cost me a lot to even come and ask you, but I have no one else to go to.’ Shona put down her teacup, looking almost tearful. ‘Please think about it, Papa. You’re my last hope.’ Dabbing at her eyes, she got up and asked where the bathroom was.

‘The bathroom’s ensuite, through the bedroom,’ said Ricky distractedly.

Shona walked swiftly through to the bathroom where, after locking the door, she put down the toilet seat and sat on top of it. If she gave her father a little time by himself, thinking that she was crying in the bathroom, he would hopefully be more likely to capitulate to her out-rageous request.

Looking around, she saw that there was toothpaste in the bathroom, but no toothbrush. Doubtless her father was keeping it in his toiletry bag, as though he was living in a hotel and was expected to pack up at a moment’s notice. All his clothes were probably still neatly folded in his suitcase. Wandering back through the very neat, bare bedroom, she wondered where his suitcase was; it wasn’t on top of the wardrobe or anywhere obvious. Opening the wardrobe, she saw no luggage there, either, just a solitary cream towelling robe hanging up, looking rather lonely. Something was wrong, very wrong indeed. If her father was no longer living in Bangladesh, he must be living here. But where were all his clothes? Feeling a touch guilty, she gently pulled open one of the drawers. It was empty apart from bed linen. The rest of the drawers were empty altogether. There must be some explanation. Of course, the suitcase was under the bed! Dropping to her knees, she looked underneath and saw no suitcase at all. Instead, she saw a pair of cream bedroom slippers, with pretty stitching on them. She realized that they matched the towelling robe in the wardrobe. Shona’s mind ticked over rapidly. Coffee and brown sugar. The bare, uninhabited flat. The unexplained absence of both toothbrush and suitcase. The inexplicable presence of both towelling robe and pretty cream slippers. Ladies’ slippers. Her father wasn’t living here, after all. He was, very possibly, living with a lady who wore size 6 shoes, who liked coffee and brown sugar.