After Jemima leaves the room the two men seat themselves. Gut instinct tells Layla they’re government. Gut instinct has been talking to her since the bombing outside Calais made the front page four days ago.

‘Carrington-King?’ the shorter of the two asks, perhaps the Elliot one. Skinny, pale, with a perpetual ‘Who me?’ look on his face, as if he’s in the midst of doing or saying something wrong.

‘Two people getting a divorce who don’t concern you,’ she says flatly.

Jemima returns with the file as well as a quizzical look that can only mean she’s been questioned by one of the partners.

‘Will you close the door on your way out?’ Layla says. Jemima leaves and Layla studies the men. ‘What is it you want?’

There is hesitation, until the other one, a shaggy-dog type with a healthy head of golden-brown hair spliced with grey, stands, sifts through his pocket and hands over a messy business card. Chief Inspector Bish Ortley of the Bethnal Green police station. Now she’s confused. Calais is a long way from Bethnal Green.

‘Have you been in touch with Jamal Sarraf lately?’

But not that far away.

‘Last I heard Jamal Sarraf lived somewhere in France.’ She’s pissed off. The men sitting at her desk know she’s pissed off. She presumes both of them have come across many pissed-off women in their lives.

‘We’re here out of concern for Sarraf’s niece,’ Ortley says.

So he’s playing good cop, but there’s something about him. A festering below the surface. The bloodshot eyes and sad teddy bear look. This man comes with a story.

‘You desperately care about her, do you?’ she asks. ‘From what I’ve been reading, no one seemed to care about Violette’s reputation when it was smeared before the whole world this week.’

Ortley gets twitchy at this. ‘We think you may know where she and the boy are,’ he says.

‘And why would you think that?’

‘Well, let’s start with the fact that you lived next door to Violette’s mother and uncle for almost eighteen years,’ Elliot says.

‘I’d like you to leave.’

‘Layla,’ Ortley says. ‘Can I call you that? All we need to know is whether Violette has made contact with you. Whether she and the boy are okay.’

Layla points. ‘There’s the door.’

Elliot leans forward. ‘We may visit your sister next, Layla,’ he says. ‘And from what I know about the family Jocelyn married into, the Shahbazis have built wealth and a good name in a reputable way. If there’s anything they hate most in the world, it’s people breathing the word “Muslim” and “terrorist” in the same sentence.’

‘Then do me a favour, wanker,’ Layla says. ‘Try really hard to avoid breathing “Muslim” and “terrorist” in the same sentence. You’ll get the hang of it sooner or later.’

This guy, unlike his partner, seems oblivious to the fact that he irritates people.

‘My brother-in-law’s family are well aware of who our neighbours were,’ she says.

‘But do they know you’d been in a relationship with Jamal Sarraf since you were sixteen?’ Elliot asks. ‘I’m willing to wager that it didn’t end there. Some acquaintances of your brother-in-law’s may not like the fact that over the years you’ve crossed the Channel to fuck a terrorist.’