Drip. Drip. And then again...drip. The assault on the stillness in the flat jarred Syed's senses until he simple had to get out of bed. Christian had already left for work and despite the fact that he had an empty space on the mattress next to him Syed felt a sense of contentment. This flat, with its dripping tap and cooling coffee pot and crumb filled toaster was where he belonged. Each item in it was special to him because it was Christian's. He stood by the sink, gazing out of the window at the early morning sun and permitted himself a small smile. Life could, and would, be good. He gave a small sigh as he turned away from the light and prepared to get ready for the day.

This fleeting feeling of contentment was long overdue to Syed – the explosive and painful events of the previous week had burned a very deep wound in his heart which was still so raw to the touch. Nothing except extreme force of will was helping him deal with his family's rejection at the moment; that, and Christian's care and love. The sooner they could get away from this place the better. His family had been clear in their disappointment and disgust, each one of them, and Syed didn't think he could bear to stay in the square and risk exposing himself to even more hurt from that direction. No, the best thing was to get away, to rip off his old life like a plaster and start the healing process somewhere fresh and new. Perhaps one day they would understand. Perhaps one day his mother would hug him again. Perhaps one day his father would deign to speak to him again. Perhaps.

As he stepped out of the shower Syed could hear his phone ringing. Nervous as to whom it could be he decided to let it go to voicemail whilst he got dressed. It was probably Christian moaning about work. But maybe it was someone else. Maybe it was Tam. He couldn't believe either of his parents would call his mobile – if they wanted to say something they would make sure they did it to his face in order to inject the requisite amount of venom no doubt. As he listened to the answer phone message he was surprised to hear Amira's voice,

'It's me. I...well, I'm not sure what to say really. You know it all. I suppose maybe I just wanted to hear your voice. Silly aren't I. I silly little girl. I bet that's what you always thought me.' Syed ran his fingers through his hair, unsurprised at the evident bitterness in Amira's tone.

'I wanted you to know that I won't be coming back. I've gone to stay with my dad. He was right about us all along wasn't he? I hate the irony. Look, just...don't try and contact me, ok Syed? I don't want to see you again. Ever.' Amira had paused and Syed assumed this was the end of her message, but then came a soft, almost plaintive word,

'Bye.'

Well, in honesty Syed had been expecting worse from Amira. Her hurt was obviously still so raw and Syed's guilt so deep that he agreed wholeheartedly with her wish for them never to meet again. She could be pampered and cosseted by her father and forget all about him and in time her wound would heal. Revenge wasn't her style.

He would have given anything to hear half as many words from his father, who hadn't uttered a word to him since his furious burst of outrage that day. It was as if he wanted to cut Syed out completely. It wouldn't be the first time. The post rattled through the letter box and Syed bent to pick it up, smiling sadly at the timing. If he went outside now he could catch up with Masood and then...what? Talk? No, better to stay away. His momentary indecision was interrupted by confusion. He was holding a letter addressed not to Christian, but to himself. Syed looked at it blankly. Handwritten on crisp white paper. He'd only been staying here a week, who could possibly have sent it? He dismissed the thought that it could be any sort of communication from his family and slowly opened the envelope, curiosity tinged with foreboding. And he had been right. Amira wasn't the sort to seek revenge. But someone else was. His breath quickened and his fingers shook slightly as he read,

'Syed Masood,

It has been told to me that you have been the cause of injuring and paining many people. Your life is one of sin. Be assured that such actions will not go unpunished. This is a warning. Live in fear and suspicion and the knowledge that what is done can not be undone.

Allah sees all, and forgives much, but I can not.'

The paper fluttered to the floor as a violent knocking on the door shook the flat.

'I know you're in there!'