‘What’s tragic is that his decision has resulted in so many people getting hurt.’ Rosa looked like she was on the verge of tears and I found myself sniffing back my own.

‘I know.’

‘I would like to see him. Hear what he’s got to say. Can you arrange it?’

‘Of course. He wants to see you too.’

‘Will he go to prison?’

‘Most probably, but we don’t know. We’re discussing charges with the CPS.’ I pointed through the shop window. ‘Did you know that your son had developed a crush on Indra’s sister, Marta?’ I wouldn’t mention the baby. I’d leave that to Tomasz to decide on.

‘Oh?’

‘He told me.’ I recalled how he’d talked about Marta when I told him about Indra’s baby. ‘Seems he fell in love with her.’

I watched Rosa’s expression. She placed the packets of pale blue envelopes, and the box of Pritt Sticks, into a crate and inched towards the glass. ‘And did she . . . ? Did she love him too?’

I remembered the giggling I’d heard when the two of them came home together. ‘I think so.’

Rosa reached for the door handle.

‘Shall I put that lot in a crate for you?’ I gestured to the pile of things on the counter by the till, taking the opportunity to give Rosa some space.

The doorbell dinged and she walked towards Marta and Indra. She must’ve called them, because they spun round, and the two younger women walked towards the older one. Rosa opened her arms and she and Marta fell into a hug for a few moments before Indra joined in.

Maya, 10 a.m.

Maya, 10 a.m.

In the distance, daffodils lay in clumps on the grass and dappled April sunshine fell through the branches of the cemetery’s oak tree.

A male social worker stood next to Riad Farzat at Ali Kousa’s grave. Another man stood behind them. Rima and I were a short distance away from the men, and we watched the official lay out Ali Kousa’s shrouded remains to face Mecca. A few metres from us, Sophie Williams and her mother looked on.

‘Forgive him. Pardon him. Cleanse him of his transgressions and take him to Paradise.’ The imam’s voice was sombre, and it reminded me of Sabbir’s funeral.

‘Their whole village was wiped out by an air strike.’ Rima spoke softly. ‘He and Riad may as well be brothers. They travelled all that way together. It took them months.’

As she spoke, it was such a relief to let the tears fall.

She passed me a tattered piece of card. A photograph.

‘Is that Ali’s family?’

She nodded. ‘He brought it with him. Riad saved it from the squat. I promised to give it back to him, but I thought you’d like to see.’