‘He is a mechanic.’

‘And what does a mechanic earn?’

The father shook his head. ‘I do not know. He gave me money every week but I do not know how much he earned.’

‘Five hundred pounds a week,’ said Crazy Boy. ‘More, perhaps. That’s what a mechanic would earn. More with overtime.’

‘Does four thousand pounds sound reasonable?’ asked Taban.

Nadif’s father looked across at Crazy Boy. ‘That is a pittance,’ he said. ‘My son almost died. They attacked him like dogs. For what? For his wallet and his mobile phone?’

‘Is that true?’ Taban asked the mother of the two boys.

She opened her mouth to speak but her husband held up his hand to silence her. ‘The boy spoke ill of my daughter, their sister,’ the man said. ‘He called her a whore, he said that he had seen her with a white boy.’

‘That is a lie!’ snapped Nadif’s father. ‘My son did nothing. He said nothing. They attacked him and now he lies in hospital.’

‘Did they steal his wallet and phone?’ Taban asked the father of the boys.

‘Both have been returned,’ said the man. ‘But that is not why they were fighting with Nadif. Nadif abused their sister and that is why they struck him.’

‘They slashed him with knives,’ said Nadif’s father. ‘He said nothing about their sister. That is a lie.’

‘They have admitted their guilt and compensation will be paid,’ said Taban slowly, choosing his words with care.

‘This isn’t right,’ said Nadif’s father. ‘If I had gone to the police they would be in prison now. But they sit over there as if they didn’t have a care in the world. Do they look sorry for what they did to my boy? Do they look as if they care?’ He glared at the teenagers. One of them sneered back at the man but his mother slapped his shoulder and he looked down at the table.

Taban leaned forward and took the father’s hand in his. ‘Everyone here feels your pain,’ he said. ‘That is why we have the gar, to make things right. That is how we do things. We do not go to the police, we do not use the infidel’s courts. We sort things out within our community. That is the way it has always been and it is the way it always will be. We do not allow the infidel to pass judgement on us. We resolve our own conflicts.’

The father nodded. ‘I understand,’ he said.

Taban let go of the man’s hand and sat back. ‘How much do you think would be reasonable by way of compensation?’ he asked Crazy Boy.

‘Four thousand pounds is not enough, not considering the injuries,’ Crazy Boy said to the men at the table.