The woman, Shahzadi Siddiqui, couldn’t believe her luck. The fate of Mariam Maher had made the national news back home; Dawn was doing occasional features on immigrants to Britain following the Home Secretary’s prejudiced minimum income requirement. But Shahzadi herself had barely been outside London since arriving in the UK six months before, and she was a bit challenged by the idea of putting such a distance between herself and the city; clad in a fleece jacket and rubber boots from M&S, moreover, ghastly. But of course Shahzadi was totally prepared to suffer for her art, even if it meant getting muddy. And so Mariam and she met one day later, exactly as Mariam proposed, in the island’s bakery at a windswept place called Lerston, where they spoke in Sindhi over tea and a rather strange cheesecake which tasted faintly of cherry yoghurt. (Sister Lucija sat on a nearby table. Nina was watching from behind the counter.) It was a stormy day and Shahzadi found the entire expedition a strain on her resources – but as soon as she met Mariam, she knew it was worth it. What a woman. A little downtrodden Sheedi girl from the nowhere town of Mirpur Khas, becoming famous all over the world, for being a feminist.

‘I hate this man,’ Mariam said.

‘You mean your husband?’ Shahzadi asked.

‘No, not him!’ Mariam replied. ‘This big politician, who took my picture.’

‘Sebastian Vane?’

‘Yes, him. He is very bad at looking after his mother, leaving her alone in the islands like this. So cold here, you wouldn’t guess how much it rains. All his family money comes from the former colonies, they had sugar plantations and slaves in the Africas.’

‘The Caribbean?’

‘And nowadays a jet-set lifestyle that’s contributing to the heating of the world and the melting of the glaciers. He is a greedy man looking for money and fame, just as bad as the men at home. We should be rebelling. This is unequal distribution of resources. And these British people dare to quibble about my legal status in this country; what about what they have done to mine?’

‘What do you want to happen now?’ Shahzadi asked.

‘I want a divorce,’ Mariam said. ‘I want residency in Britain, and when all that is regularised, I want to go home and see my family.’

Shahzadi, careful not to mention the exact location, described Mariam as living in ‘some remote islands off the east coast of Britain’. Nevertheless, thanks to Seb’s prior exposure, any irate husband/father/brother could have found her.

The interview was syndicated across the world.

Shahzadi’s editor in Karachi was so pleased, he went round to her mother’s house in Zamzama, with a bottle of whisky.

Submission 13b: Media coverage

Monday