But she also never lost sight of the endgame. ‘If someone wants to get clean, let them, help them. We’re not in this forever. We’re in this to help our people get clean and get out. That is how empires are built.’

They built their new empire tall and high and with walls of steel to guard it. Its reach spread from the small-time client to the highest echelons of society, and they worked hard to get there.

Its success helped relieve the pressure that had been coming from the Jirga to exact badal on Nowak for what he did to Benyamin and for her father’s murder. Jia had not forgotten what was owed, it was just that her priorities were elsewhere. Reshaping the family business was a matter of urgency – it had been left far too long. Revenge, however, was a dish best served cold.

CHAPTER 34

As soon as Jia stepped through the door of her London apartment, calm descended and the responsibilities of her new-found life slipped away. It had been her sanctuary for a long time. More than a year had passed since she made Pukhtun House her permanent residence. She had few regrets about it, but as she walked through the hallway and into her bedroom, she realised she missed the freedom of this life.

She’d kept the apartment as a bolt-hole but hadn’t been able to visit often. Work stole all her time, but this week Maria had forced her to leave. ‘It’s half-term, I can come with you,’ she’d said. ‘We’ll spend a few days together, try the Darjeeling Express Biryani Supper Club and take in a show.’

‘Although maybe not on the same day,’ said Jia. ‘I can’t imagine anything worse than turning up to a West End show smelling of salan.’ It wasn’t the offence taken by others that worried her. The lingering aroma of curry on clothes and fingertips, no matter how expensive the hand soap, made her anxious. You only had to have had someone hiss ‘Smelly Paki!’ at you once for it to leave its brand on you forever.

Maria and Jia had taken the train to King’s Cross, enjoying Northern Rail’s hospitality of English breakfast tea and moreish shortbread. Jia felt the tension leave her shoulders as she lay her burden down in the presence of her sister. They had an unspoken agreement never to discuss the family business, but everything else was on the table. Relationships, the state of the city’s schools, Elyas, Ahad and their mother were all topics they covered in the two hours ten minutes they were on the train.

‘Mama seems even quieter than usual,’ said Jia, as the dining-car attendant refilled her teacup and walked away. They were in first class, the carriage busier than Jia had expected. She wasn’t bound to travelling during school holidays, and it crossed her mind that she never had been.