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over half an hour for a taxi and then, when she got home, the babysitter demanded double the cash because it was after midnight. She hadn’t been on any dates since.
    She ran her hands over her body. It was still trim and firm in all the right places, even if her breasts were a little heavier and her waist was a tiny bit thicker. However, for a woman her age, she knew she was in very good shape. Rushing around as a single mum had kept her fit and she worked out at a local gym during most of her lunch breaks. She thought about Akbar’s body. Years of horse riding had kept him strong and muscular, and she knew that under his clothes his body would still be physically powerful.
    She looked at her alarm clock. It felt as if she’d been lying awake for hours, but it wasn’t even midnight yet. Perhaps Akbar was still awake. Maybe he was cold and needed an extra blanket. Sarah got out of bed. She was wearing a shapeless, old T-shirt. She pulled it off over her head and searched around in her underwear drawer for something better to put on. However, she hadn’t bought any sexy underwear for years and the best she could find was a pair of black cotton knickers and a plain black bra. She put them on and then threw on her dressing gown. Made of grey towelling, it wasn’t very attractive, but she adjusted it so that it was slightly open at the front, revealing her bra underneath. She looked at herself in the mirror and ruffled up her blonde hair before pulling down an old woollen blanket from the top shelf of her wardrobe. She opened her bedroom door and stepped out.
    The house was dark. She put her head around Ali’s door. He was snoring quietly in his bed. She crept downstairs. She was halfway down when one of the steps gave a loud creak. She stopped and held her breath. Nothing. She stepped down again. Another creak and then another. Sarah stopped and waited again. Still nothing. She suddenly wondered why she was creeping around her own house. With a much heavier tread, she went down the last two steps and knocked on the door of the room where Akbar was sleeping. No reply. She knocked again and waited. Slowly she turned the handle, opened the door and peered inside.
    The curtains were closed, but they were thin and didn’t block the light from the streetlamps outside. On the sofa, she could see Akbar lying asleep. Over him were the bed sheets she’d given him and on top of those he’d put his heavy black overcoat. Sarah stepped forward and unfolded the blanket she was carrying. Carefully, she draped it over Akbar. When she finished, she stood and looked at him. She could see his broad chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. He was obviously fast asleep. She had half expected him to wake up, take her in his arms and after a little bit of resistance, she would lead him upstairs and into her bed. However, he hadn’t woken up, so she wasn’t sure what to do. Finally, she gave him one last look and then went back upstairs, on her own.
    The next morning, she woke up to the smell of mint, only to find a cup of hot tea next to her bed. Akbar must have come in and brought it to her. She drank it as she got dressed and when she was ready, she went to wake up Ali. However, he was already up and chatting away to his dad, who was in the kitchen, frying eggs. Ali was sitting at the table, drinking orange juice. As well as juice, there was toast, honey, cold cuts of meat, feta cheese, olives, and plain yogurt on the table. There was no sign of the papers and clutter that usually covered it.
    “Where did all this come from?” she asked.
    “Dad and I’ve been out to the shops. Dad says I need to eat a big breakfast everyday. He says that in Yazan they eat like this all the time.”
    “Things are very different in Yazan,” Sarah replied.
    “They certainly are. Good morning, my love. Please sit down and eat.” Akbar put a large plate of fried eggs on the table.
    Sarah sat and helped herself to some food. It tasted delicious and