‘Maybe you should let them think more often,’ said the landlord. ‘What the girl said was right. Ayub does work in a pub, this pub, and sometimes even,’ he went on triumphantly, ‘when he’s in the mood for it, has a drink with us at the end of the shift, don’t you, Ayub?’

His employee, whose body had been becoming rigid, like a lone child’s before a semicircle of bullies, was un-sprung by mere annoyance.

And the chief was not halted. ‘That means nothing,’ he said. ‘The Taliban were smoking smack in the breaks between beheading unbelievers. A half-pint of bitter doesn’t prove he’s not got a bomb vest on under that jacket. I’d like to see him eat a bacon sandwich.’

Ayub ripped apart the two halves of his chef’s jacket, un-popping the line of buttons down the front. Holding open the two stubby white wings, he showed them a grey T-shirt falling close around his slender torso, with two dark ovals of sweat at its seams. Ayub’s hands were shaking with force, making the white cloth quiver. He said, ‘What do you think of that, fat man?’

The chief said, ‘So he’s not got a bomb vest on right now. What were the chances of that anyway? I think eating a bacon sandwich is a better test.’

Ayub dropped the flaps of his jacket. ‘Are you serious?’

The chief said, ‘Eat a bacon sandwich then.’

Rosie said, ‘This is crazy. Lots of Muslims don’t eat bacon. Neither do Jews. It doesn’t mean someone’s an extremist.’

The landlord said, ‘No one’s eating anything. I’m closing the kitchen. I’ve had enough of this. Ayub, I think it’s best you take the rest of the day off. You’ll still be paid for the shift. On you go.’

‘What, I have to leave because they’re a bunch of racists?’

‘Yes, that’s right. Now go on. Enjoy your afternoon off and I’ll see you tomorrow.’

Ayub moved as if about to object, but then relaxed all at once and shrugged. ‘Fine. See you tomorrow. See you, too, Gilbert. Watch out I don’t sprinkle anthrax on your chips.’

Gilbert frowned at the bar.

Not acknowledging anyone else, Ayub pushed through the swing door, which clapped back once, twice, on its stiff hinge, and settled shut. Gilbert checked his watch as if he had a reason to leave. But there was a certain consensus of relief that Ayub was gone.

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