‘No hospitals,’ she said. ‘They’ll ask too many questions and we can’t be dealing with the police right now. Do what you can for him and let me figure something out. Benny, I’m just going to get changed and I’ll be right back, OK? Mama is here with you, and Maria will get you whatever you need.’

She transferred his hand gently to their mother’s. Jia would spend the night by his side, watching over Benyamin as he slept, ready to fetch painkillers and water every time he stirred, but for now she had things to attend to. She left the room, closing the door behind her. Her head was spinning. She looked at her phone: another missed call from Elyas. He’d left a voicemail. She deleted it without listening. She couldn’t hear his voice right now; she wouldn’t be able to think straight. She’d call him later.

She scrolled through her contacts for Malik’s number. Her cousin was a qualified doctor. ‘I need you to come over, now,’ she told him. ‘He’s in a bad way. He needs to be in hospital but I can’t take that risk.’

She hung up the phone and turned around to find Bazigh Khan standing at the door, his face awash with concern. Even killers and criminals worried about their kin. ‘He is hurt badly?’ he asked.

Jia nodded. ‘Malik is coming.’ She leaned against the wall, exhausted. ‘Is it always this hard, Lala?’ She looked small, but he knew better than to underestimate her.

‘Yes,’ he said, taking her in a fatherly bear hug. ‘It is. You must eat, and then we must get on with business. The chief of police is here. He pulled up outside just as I was coming in the door. He says he has been calling since the day your father died. I have asked him to wait in the study.’

Jia looked surprised. ‘He’s come to see me? Do you know what he wants?’

‘Maybe he wants to offer his condolences. I always thought these Angrez sent cards, but maybe our ways are rubbing off on them, eh?’

‘Maybe,’ Jia said, ‘but I doubt it. And I’m sure you know more than you are letting on.’

The way the policeman sat in the chair, unapologetic, with his arm sprawled over one side, irked Jia. His voice, nasal and patronising, did not help matters. ‘Ms Khan…I have a dead white bouncer, severely injured white revellers and an eighteen-year-old girl, also white, who may never walk again thanks to these two thugs. You must know something.’