‘It’s the only time I’ve ever seen him cry, before or since,’ she said. ‘And I don’t think anything will ever top that day. I mean, I love my kids like crazy and everything I do is for them, but knowing I made my grandad proud after what he gave up to get to this country was the best day of my life.’

So then, as we motored through Golders Hill, Jaz told me about her grandfather and grandmother who’d arrived in London from Pakistani Punjab in 1959, with two small children and three suitcases between them. Her grandfather had given up his job as a teacher to come to a strange country, and ended up selling fruit and veg at Spitalfields Market. Best career move ever, he said, and he’d never regretted a minute of it.

He worked every single day, and not only put a roof over his family’s heads but also both his children through university. Even after Jaz’s father and aunt qualified and opened their pharmacy together in Shoreditch (which was still operating after thirty-five years), her grandfather kept on working. Because he believed with every fibre of his proud and humble heart that the key to succeeding at life was to remain busy and useful and make every penny an honest one.

‘Didn’t retire until last year when he was eighty-four, and even then he only stopped because his knees weren’t up to it any more,’ Jaz said. ‘He reckons after he gets his letter for a replacement, he might resurrect the stall so he can make enough money to take one last trip home before he dies, and I wouldn’t put it past him.’

She told me how, growing up, she’d sit on her grandfather’s knee and listen to his stories of home; the beauty of the landscapes, the rich colours of the skies, and the soft mists that rose off the rivers at dusk. ‘There’s no place like home,’ he’d say, and even as a little girl, she understood how much he’d sacrificed to provide his unborn grandchildren and great-grandchildren with their life of opportunity.

‘When I got married so young, I always felt like I’d let my grandparents down a bit,’ Jaz said. ‘That maybe ending up with four kids and a philandering fitter and turner wasn’t quite what they’d had in mind for me. But that day I saw my grandfather cry with happiness, that was the day I realised there’s more than one way to make someone’s dream come true. I might not have ended up a dentist or a teacher or a pharmacist, but I get out here on the streets every day and make a good and useful job of things, and that’s all my grandad ever wanted for us.’ Jaz tilted her head so she could see me in the mirror. ‘Know what I mean?’ As we crawled along the tree-lined streets of Maida Vale, I could only nod and smile in wonder at the marvel of the universe and all its sneaky synchronicity.