Again, the slightly unnerving lack of response. At least if she’d been bothered by it that would have been something. He got the impression she didn’t want to discuss it, but wasn’t hugely moved one way or the other, as if the idea of being with him, like that, didn’t engender any emotion at all. That was the ultimate failure, to provoke indifference in a woman. Maybe she was conscious of the driver’s presence. It was one of the Party’s regulars, a Polish guy with whom Sam had already had one touchy discussion about the current situation.

The bedroom door opened. He turned, he hoped not too quickly. She had removed her makeup and was wearing a long dressing-gown, buttoned up to the neck, and slippers.

Never mind, he told himself. There will be other opportunities.

And now here they were in front of the TV, still not talking. Every now and then his eyes flicked away from the screen to her, in the passion-killer garment. His desire hadn’t been quelled at all. She could have been wearing a black sack for all he cared.

Eventually she switched off the TV and turned to him. His whole body glowed under her gaze. ‘I have some news about your brother.’

He felt the atmosphere in the room change. It was as if they were back in Doncaster, in that kitchen, the first time they’d met.

‘It’s not good.’

The coverage of the hostel bomber had already reminded him about Karza and, to his alarm, Sam realized he hadn’t lately been giving his brother much thought. Her words brought him back to earth with a bump.

‘Is he still alive?’

‘Yes. He was wounded and is being treated. But it’s complicated.’

‘You know for sure he’s all right?’

‘All I know is what I’m telling you.’

‘How did you find out?’

‘They have representatives here.’

‘Returnees?’

‘Since the bombing of the hostel they have to be very careful. Surveillance is being stepped up on them so communication is hard. They are also very angry with Britain.’

‘Because of the targeting of returnees?’

She shook her head. ‘Not just that. The rebel army council, which was funnelling help through Turkey, has been disbanded. The supplies promised by the West haven’t materialized so they’ve lost all credibility with their fighters on the ground, who were desperate for ammunition. Those groups like the one your brother was with had no option but to side with the more militant ones. It was that or die. They feel very bitter, very let down. They feel the West has betrayed them.’

‘But they are looking after him? Karza.’

Her look was quite cold. Was it selfish to be so concerned about one man when the whole struggle was at stake?

‘They are, now they know who his brother is. They’ve been told to keep him alive.’