‘They came down on him very hard. Detention, took his passport away. Nothing excuses what he did, but I think that was the worst part, the treatment he got when he came back. He thought he had gone to do a good, courageous thing . . . and then that.’ She gazed up at Tom, with a look of desperation. ‘Do you know what fighting is like?’

He nodded. ‘And when he was back home, how was it?’

‘He went away for a couple of weeks, suddenly. Said he couldn’t stay there. I hoped his girlfriend would help.’

‘Did he avoid her as well?’

‘Oh, no, she was new. They only got together after he was back is my impression. I saw her just the once. He didn’t introduce me. She was very devout. I don’t know if he feared I would disapprove of that in some way, because we weren’t. But I thought it was a good sign, you know, that he had some kind of emotional stability in his life.’

‘Have you definitely not seen her since?’

‘After what’s happened? Poor thing, she can’t have realized what she was getting into.’

‘Do you know her name, where she was from? Perhaps you could track her down, support each other.’

She seemed not to hear this. ‘He always wanted to be in the Army. From when he was a little boy. It was his dream.’

‘Mine too,’ said Tom.

She looked up. ‘And did you fulfil your dream?’

’I’ve been very lucky.’

‘Nurul’s father wouldn’t allow it. He told him that after Nine/Eleven, they wouldn’t take Muslims. I knew that wasn’t true but you couldn’t argue with my husband. He died a few years back.’ She bowed her head and shook silently as more tears came.

‘Do you know where he was living? Nurul.’

She sniffed. ‘The last time I saw him, he had overalls on. He said then he’d been working at a garage in Hatfield.’ She shook her head as if that, too, was mystifying.

‘Was that with the girlfriend or any others, do you know?’

She was looking past Tom. He turned. Rolt was standing in the doorway. For a fraction of a second Tom felt a stab of pure hatred towards him, but he checked himself and made a mental note to be ready to show unswerving loyalty at least for now.

‘Thank you, Tom. Mrs al-Awati, I’m so sorry I’m late.

It’s unforgivable.’

‘It is most considerate of you to invite me.’

‘It’s very courageous of you to accept the invitation.’

‘I’ll leave you to it.’ Tom put out his hand. ‘I’m glad to have met you. Again, I’m very sorry for the loss of your son.’