She shifted in her seat, trying to edge away, but felt his body following hers. To her right, Maryam was engaged in a conversation across the table and almost pushing into her. She must disconnect, switch him off. ‘You’re talking rubbish, Kareem,’ she whispered back, ‘it’s just boasting. Seeing yourself as some kind of prophet. You know as well as I do it’s all an act. You even said it yourself.’ She broke away. ‘Time for me to leave.’

‘No.’ His loud whisper hissed it as an order. ‘There is nothing to fear,’ he continued, softening, ‘I understand your feelings. Do you think I would ever want to frighten you?’ His voice lowered again. ‘You have meant more to me than anyone. I always see your face in my dreams.’

As once she’d felt love and then fear, now she felt a dulled contempt. She must leave before it turned to hatred. She turned away from him, fished in her bag, pulled out from her purse a five-pound note and an old receipt. Furtively, she scrawled a number on it. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she said, looking at her watch and rising. ‘I’ve lost track of the time. I promised to be home for my father.’ She waved the five-pound note. ‘Can I—’

Kareem cut across her with a magisterial wave of the hand. ‘Of course not. This is my evening.’

She threw him a short smile, replaced the note in her bag, and turned back to embrace Maryam. ‘Good luck,’ she murmured, ‘I hope everything works out well for you.’ Her back to Kareem, she pushed the creased receipt into her hand, mumbling, ‘If you ever need…’ As Maryam took it, Sara saw bruising on her arms and wrists. She waved a hand at the other three men, looked past Kareem and walked as fast as she dared into the street, promising herself that, whatever else happened in her future life, Kareem Abdullah bin-Jilani would never come near her again.

‘I want to find him,’ she said.

‘You just told me,’ said Patrick, ‘you left that night, wanting him never again to get near you.’

‘Correct. This is me going to him. Don’t put your own life on hold – that’s what the surgeon said. He’s right. What better purpose could there be right now? To track him down and hold him to account. For whatever it is he might have done.’

‘Wherever he might be, we still need evidence of deeds done.’

‘I want to see Isobel too. Confront her. She must know where he is.’

‘No chance.’

‘Who else then?’

‘Has to be J.’

‘Where is he?’

‘I’ve no idea. But I can think of someone who will. We’ll need to call by the office.’