The airline he’d chosen was the one that they always used. It catered for those determined to economise whatever the inconvenience, so – as a consequence – he had been awake for the last thirty-six hours and his eyes felt raw. He’d flown via Kuwait, and the plane had been full of cheerful overseas workers who were returning home – he was the one white face amongst them, and they cheered the captain as they came in to land.

A man had turned to him:

‘Hey, Joe!’ he’d said. ‘Welcome.’

Joe was the friendly name for a Westerner, it seemed.

Now, Michael stopped.

He’d come through a short pedestrian subway, and he was in the open air. There was a solid stone wall in front of him, so his fellow passengers streamed left and right, manoeuvring trolleys as quickly as they dared. Some were running, and he realised how the exit system worked. If your name began with any letter between A and L, you went to the left: that’s what the sign said. Everyone else – M to Z – went right, and it was a simple way of spreading the arriving crowds out safely, to avoid a crush. Both channels took you down broad concrete ramps, which curved around a floodlit meeting area. Those waiting for their loved ones positioned themselves at the appropriate exit, and looked up in expectation. It meant there was less chance of a stampede.

Michael checked his paper again, and went to the right. As soon as he saw the masses below, he was filled with dismay. There were hundreds and hundreds of people, even at this time – midnight – and the noise was now deafening. Everyone stood in brightly coloured clusters, and most were gazing at the ramps, aching to get their first glimpse of mother, father, son, daughter, brother or sister. Some had banners, and others held placards, and the atmosphere was that of a sports stadium when the home team is winning. He could hear people howling as they waved and clapped, but what made the scene seem extra chaotic was that a line of buses was inching through the centre towards a subway. They were nose to tail, honking their horns. Some people were boarding and others were getting down – it was a constant flow of joyful, anxious chaos.

He stopped.