‘I have indeed. You are I aren’t that different.’

‘Oh, but we are,’ she said bitterly. ‘Because if your father had blown up those people, they would never have come for your mother, or for you. They came for the Sarrafs because of our race.’

What could he say to that? He didn’t want to insult her with a denial.

‘I’ve got to go,’ she said.

‘Don’t,’ he found himself saying.

‘Is that “Baker Street”?’ she asked suddenly.

Gerry Rafferty’s voice rang out from the airport speakers.

‘Yes.’

‘I haven’t heard that for years.’

‘My first slow dance was to “Baker Street”,’ he said. ‘Francine Riley. I got to touch her boobs. Your first dance?’

‘“Mandy”, Barry Manilow,’ she said. ‘Wouldn’t let anyone touch my boobs that night.’

‘Well, what a disappointment you’ve turned out to be today.’

It was the first time he had made her laugh. A great laugh. Coming from some place real.

When he got through to Bee after hanging up from Noor she told him Rachel had delivered a baby boy named Rufus, after David’s father. Bish thought it was a ridiculous name, meant for pets, but he didn’t articulate that thought.

‘Will you go and see them?’ Bee asked.

And because his daughter asked Bish for so little, and because Noor’s words about his son’s spirit were in his head, he took a detour on his way to the Crombies and went to see Rachel. Rufus had his mother’s red hair and his brother’s mouth. From Bee he would probably inherit her attitude. Bish could tell this by the way he screwed up his face when Rachel mentioned that David was spending the night in the bed beside them. He stayed longer than he’d planned to, and they spoke of Bee and Stevie, and how their hearts would always be tied because of their amazing kids. He felt a bittersweet ache, but Rachel was so happy, and he couldn’t want more for someone he loved.

He heard his phone beep and checked the message. Jamal Sarraf.

About time you started on that fitness program we spoke about. 9 am tomorrow at the gym.

They’d never discussed a fitness program. Not even the fact that Bish needed one. Sarraf must have news that he didn’t want to risk on his phone.

‘Can I crash at your place later tonight?’ he asked Rachel. ‘I’m heading over to Calais in the morning.’

‘Where are you off to now?’

‘Margate.’

‘Manchester, Ashford, Margate, Calais, all in twenty-four hours?’ No wonder you’re fainting left right and centre.’

‘Once,’ he reminded her.

The Crombies were surprised to see him later that evening, but hospitable. Charlie had avoided a police record, so Bish was welcome any time in their home.

‘Has he done something else wrong?’ Reverend Crombie asked.

‘Not really.’

The ‘not really’ got him an offer of a cup of tea.

‘I know this may sound alarming,’ Bish began, ‘but we think Charlie could be hiding Violette Zidane and Eddie Conlon.’