When a few minutes later the bell sounded and the winner was announced, Michael took advantage of the interval to make his way through the gentrified cage-fight enthusiasts towards Jia Khan.

‘Did you find the place easily?’ she asked. He nodded. ‘Follow me,’ she said.

He did as she instructed, walking a couple of steps behind as she navigated the crowded space. She was swift, moving faster than the women he knew. She stopped next to a stocky woman in a loud shirt and a black hat.

‘Jaani, I’m leaving now, so we need to talk about my winnings,’ said Jia. The woman waved her quiet, frowning. She was sweating to the point of melting; the synthetic shirt was a bad decision. ‘You’re the only person I let get away with that kind of rudeness,’ said Jia, and the woman smiled, her rouged lips wide over her yellow teeth.

‘It’s already done, my darling, take a look at your app. You know I always do you first,’ she said, winking.

Michael watched as Jia checked her phone, before thanking the stocky woman.

She led him back to the car park, where the parking attendant was waiting with a small suitcase and an overcoat. He handed Jia the coat and she slipped it on before getting into the car.

‘We’ll give you a lift, Ali. I need to say hello to your mother.’ she said. ‘Come on, get in.’

She gave Michael directions as they drove. Half an hour later, they reached an old council estate. The kind haunted by the smell of fried bacon and the sound of dogs barking, and where Union Jacks hung out of windows. It looked uninviting to people like them, and as Michael pulled up, he worried for their safety and that of the car.

‘Wait here, I’ll only be a few minutes,’ Jia told Michael. His phone rang just as she began walking with Ali to his front door. It was Akbar Khan.

‘Yes, Khan Baba, she is with me. We have made a slight detour.’ Michael watched as Jia waited outside a ground-floor flat, while the parking attendant disappeared inside. He returned a moment later with a tired-looking woman in a crinkled dupatta. She looked grateful to see Jia. A young boy hovered behind her. Ali said something that made the woman take her mobile from her cardigan pocket. She pressed it against Jia’s phone before hugging her tightly, gratitude spreading across her face. From the car, Michael could see Jia’s discomfort, her arms hanging limply as she tolerated the show of emotion. ‘I don’t know, Baba, I think it is a family your daughter helps.’

Jia was subdued when she returned to the car. They sat in silence all the way to her apartment building, where Jia needed to pick up her bags.