Her gaze was cold, as if she couldn’t conceal her contempt for these naïve recruits, blundering into a war zone hopelessly unprepared. ‘People coming from the West, if they fall into the hands of government forces they tend to get singled out for – special punishment. And some of the rebel groups are also hostile to them.’

He closed his eyes for a moment, at the thought of having to tell his mother that her darling younger son was being tortured. ‘Is there anything you can do?’

She handed him a pad. ‘Write down your brother’s name, parents, date of birth, last known address, email and any phone numbers. Yours too.’

‘Can I ask why?’

‘Not all our callers come with the best of intentions.’

He reddened. ‘Of course, and I understand, but rest assured you’ve no reason to be suspicious of me.’

She left the room. He heard her go up the stairs, then more footsteps above. He sipped the tea. He had no experience of charities or organizations that sent people to war zones. All his focus was on domestic criminal behaviour, understanding what turned people into thieves and drug-dealers. He hadn’t a clue what had inspired his brother or Bala to go to Syria, other than some foolish search for excitement inspired by too much computer gaming and the belief, common to young men, that they were invincible. The last time they had met, Karza had talked with great reverence about his own internal jihad, the challenge to live according to his new-found faith. He hadn’t said anything about fighting the actual war. Prior to that, the two of them had never had a serious conversation about anything, except Karza’s lack of work or money. Now he thought about it, he should have seen it for what it was: a turning point.

Eventually Nasima reappeared, holding a printout. She looked troubled. ‘It’s not very good news. I’m sorry.’

Immediately he imagined breaking news of Karza’s death to their mother and somehow being blamed for it.

‘The militia he was with have been absorbed by ISIS.’

‘What’s that?’

‘The Islamic State of Iraq in Syria. They’re affiliated to Al Qaeda.’ She seemed slightly disappointed at his ignorance. ‘They captured them in the Salahedin district of Aleppo. It’s not clear whether they’re being held against their will or if they’ve joined them. There are some confirmed deaths but your brother’s name’s not among them, so that’s one good thing. He could have been injured and they’re treating him – or he might have escaped.’

‘Are there any hospitals?’

‘All medical facilities in the rebel-held areas are regarded by the government as legitimate targets. If he’s in need of attention he’s probably either in a safehouse or out in the hills somewhere.’

‘Can you get him out?’

‘You mean send him a ticket for easyJet?’