But who does he say he is? Jacob doesn’t know anything about Yassim. Just that he’s more attracted to him than anyone else he’s ever met. And that it’s mutual. Yassim can’t keep his hands off Jacob either, can’t be without him. What exactly have they been up to the last four nights?

Jacob has come here late, straight from work where he stayed as late as possible despite a near complete lack of tasks, because Yassim supposedly had meetings with clients into the evening. They’ve eaten and slept with each other. It doesn’t sound like much when you put it like that. But there’s so much more to it than just sex and takeout. But what has Yassim actually told him about himself? His family is from Syria, but lives in England. He’s a photographer.

Myriam’s voice is in Jacob’s ear. The gun’s cold against his fingers. Doubt and worry and confusion.

‘Sometimes I think you really are a ghost,’ Jacob says. ‘It feels like I don’t know anything about you at all.’

Yassim laughs and takes a sip of coffee. But Jacob thinks he hears some sadness there, something more than just amusement at how adorable Jacob is. ‘What do you want to know? I’m an open book.’

Jacob shrugs. Then he pushes up the screen of the computer in front of him. ‘I’d like to see the pictures from your Syria trip. You’re so far away sometimes. I want to see what you see.’

Yassim takes another sip of coffee and sits down at the short side of the table. ‘There’s nothing to see yet. They’re not ready. I have to go through them and edit them. They’re for a magazine, and I don’t need to turn them in for a few more days.’

This is how it’s been every time he brought up something about Yassim or his job. There’s always an excuse. He hears Myriam’s voice in his head again.

‘I don’t care if they’re not ready,’ he says, frustrated now. ‘I know we can’t be a couple outside these walls. But I’m interested, Yassim. I want to know what you’re working on, what you experience, where you come from.’ He pushes the computer towards him. ‘Just a couple of pictures, okay? Just something?’

Yassim doesn’t move, just stares at Jacob without saying a word. It’s a test. Both of them feel it. Jacob didn’t mean it like that, but that’s how it turned out.

But he doesn’t have the strength to hold out, doesn’t want a confrontation, doesn’t want to upset this fragile magic.

‘Forget it,’ Jacob says, sliding the computer back. ‘It’s not important. If you don’t want to tell me, then…’