SUNDAY 4AM – JAMEEL RAFIQAt last the house is silent and I can be alone with my thoughts. For what it's worth, my head is knotted, like one of Farida's tangled balls of wool, waiting to be unravelled. I have no idea if, or indeed when, life can return to normal after this. I'm involved in something much bigger than I can handle and so much is riding on the consequences, should my part in this ever come to light.
My daughter, precious though she is, may never speak to me again were she to discover the truth behind the Frenchman's… what? Murder? Such a final and damning word, but I suppose, in all honesty, that's exactly what it is. I have no idea how or where it will happen, only when, and the hours are going to drag by until it's over.
There's no guarantee that Uzma will come home afterw
