Okay, another slow update, but they will be quicker in coming from hereon in. I won't give any time frames, because I can never stick to them, but I really want to have the reveal parts up before New Year's Day, for obvious reasons. Plus, I've had writer's block which was sorted out by reading the spoilers for the wedding yesterday! So, yay!

Hope you enjoy it.

xxx

"You're home early," Christian commented.

Syed looked around, pointedly. "This isn't home."

"Well, that's a lot easier to say than 'you're temporary residence early'."

"It's more like a hostel," he pointed out. "A bad hostel."

"Look, just because we have bunk beds and the hot water isn't exactly 'hot' and the oven doesn't work..."

Syed let a smile escape despite his foul mood. "It doesn't matter. We're going home-home soon."

Christian picked at threads in the couch. "Yeah. Jane's got an appointment the day after tomorrow, I'm going to take her to that and then we can go home on Thursday."

His smile grew larger, Christian could practically see him latching onto the word 'Thursday'. "Thursday. I'm just going to ring work and say Thursday. Just so they know I'm not messing them about," he said, reaching into his pocket for his mobile.

"Isn't it closed now?" Christian asked, looking at his watch.

"Oh. Right. I keep forgetting that some people don't work twelve hour shifts."

"So, why are you back so soon?"

"We finished early. Only twelve hours, instead of the average fourteen. I think Mum's getting soft in her old age.

"And she didn't want you to get ahead on tomorrow because...?"

"She actually wanted to spend some time with her baby son. Shocking."

"Or the two of you had yet another 'disagreement' and she couldn't take the awkwardness and sent you home."

"That...might be slightly closer to the truth," he admitted.

Christian almost laughed. "Two years off, and I can still sense a Zainab tongue-lashing a mile off."

"Yeah, well, you've got a lot more experience with them than most people," Syed said good-naturedly. "And it wasn't a tongue-lashing, just a spat."

"What was she saying, then?" he asked.

He shrugged. "What do you expect? She was... less than happy about our living situation."

Christian's nose wrinkled, in confusion. "You told her about living here? I thought we..."

"No, Dad did. Didn't get the honour," he admitted.

He winced. "Your dad being the postman has its disadvantages."

"No kidding," Syed said, his voice full of scorn.

"Are you okay?" he asked. "Are things between the two of you okay?"

"No," he said. "But we're the same. Which is pretty much 'not okay'."

"Was she upset?" he asked. "She does realise us living together isn't exactly ground-breaking stuff?"

He nodded, slowly. "More that she thought I was deceiving her than anything," he said. "Though the thought of people seeing her son living with her bloke filled her with pride, obviously."

"You weren't, though. Deceiving her, I mean."

"I wasn't exactly honest with her, either, though. And I've got previous, haven't I? She still doesn't trust me. I can't blame her but... I've been nothing but honest since I got here. Apart from today, and she jumped all over that."

"Sy, you're going to have to work at it, that's all. These things take time. It's like... your mum feels like she's lost a son and she's having to deal with the new one, but she's not quite sure how to go about it."

"I'm the same," he said, but there was little belief in his words.

"No, you're not. Not to her. This isn't the 'real' Syed for her. You did a good job convincing her otherwise. Say whatever you'd like, your acting skills are impressive."

"Thanks," he said sourly. "I can't take it. I can't take a daily dose of 'What Syed Did Wrong, A Reminder', like I don't know. I was such an idiot to think I could run away from this."

"You weren't running away. Your mum could never have taken seeing us together all the time... I was running away, you were being kind."

"I was being a coward. I didn't want to see how hurt my mum was, how angry my dad was, how heartbroken Amira was..."

"Yeah, somehow I don't think Amira would have been that shocked to the core," Christian pointed out.

"Still. Just seeing her made me feel guilty as anything, even if she wasn't completely miserable, which she was most of the time. Even imagining it was nowhere near as bad as seeing it for real."

"Well, imagine how hurt your mum would have been if she had to have a constant reminder that we were together, though."

Syed looked down at his hands, examining his palms intently as he spoke, "Don't you think the empty bedroom did that? The empty place at the table?"

"It's different to seeing it shoved in your face, every time you turn around, a reminder... it is."

He lifted his head, but still couldn't look Christian in the eye. "Which is why we're going home as soon as possible."

"I told you, Thursday," Christian reminded him.

Syed sighed. "I really wish it was tomorrow. Or today."

"Why?"

"I agreed to have a meal with my family before I went."

"Fun," he commented.

Syed chuckled humourlessly. "You know, it went so brilliantly well last time, I wanted another shot," he said. "I couldn't let my mum down."

"It won't be that bad this time. Your dad'll know, presumably."

"That'll just mean he has time to prepare his thinly-veiled insults. I mean, it's his last chance for a while, he'll need to get as many as he can in."

"Your dad isn't out to get you, Sy," Christian said, quietly.

"He doesn't need to be, I leave myself open to them," he replied.

"Seriously, it was just the shock. He'll be better this time. And, let's be honest, the last time you made contact after a long period of time out of nowhere..."

"It's not out of nowhere, though!" he insisted. "They knew about Jane. They must've known you were coming back for that. And they can't have thought I would just leave you to it."

"When you're angry, you don't think logically," he said. "Wait, I forgot. You make your best judgements when you're angry, don't you?"

"Why are you on his side?"

He couldn't help but roll his eyes. "You sound like a five-year-old. Did you seriously just stamp your foot?"

"Well, he makes me feel like one."

Christian tucked an errant strand of hair behind Syed's ear. "I'm just trying to make you see that he doesn't hate you, Syed."

"Funny, he does a good impression of it."

"You're his son," Christian said.

"And that just trumps everything, does it? No matter how much wrong I do, some biological bond makes it all okay."

"That's the great thing about parents, it does. They'll always love you, no matter what," he said.

"Loving someone and actually being able to stand being around them are two different things."

"Yeah, but one makes the other one a lot easier," he said. "Just go and be a grown-up and be civil and smile for an hour and then by the next day, we'll be back in Leeds. Just think of it like that."

"Right."

Sensing that Syed didn't want to discuss it any further, he decided a topic-change was in order. "What do you want for tea, then? We have... " He opened the fridge. "Half a pint of..." He sniffed the bottle warily, "off milk. Apparently the fridge doesn't work too good, either."

"I dunno. It's a hard decision."

"I should've gone shopping but I've been busy," he said apologetically.

"Me too."

"Takeaway it is. Still have all the numbers memorised," he replied, tapping his temple.

"Food poisoning, Walford-style. I've missed it."

Christian looked up at the melancholy in his voice that was so unrelated to the words. "It's gonna be all right, Sy."

"Yeah. It is," he said, but the enthusiasm was too forced. "We're out of here soon."

"Right."

"Then it'll just be you and me, no complications. The way it should be."

Christian raised his eyebrows. "No complications. That's us. That's what they always say, 'Christian and Syed- now there's a couple that's straightforward'."

"Well, okay, less. Just being here makes everything really complicated again. I know it wasn't always easy just us, but... God, it was easier than this."

xxx

Christian heard the baby crying before he saw him. It was the high-pitched wail of a child who'd had everything he could possibly want, and still wasn't satisfied. He knew from Roxy that it was the most frustrating sound in the world, and made the hearer feel an utter failure as a caregiver. So, when the mother pushing the pram came around the corner looking tired and frustrated, he wasn't surprised. Though he was surprised to see that mother was Zainab. It was rare to see her anything but composed, and she'd been such a hugely present absence in his life, he'd almost dehumanised her. Seeing her, looking exhausted, with her hair a mess and her clothes stained with something that looked like strained peas, he felt a swell of sympathy that he'd never thought he could feel for her.

When he looked up at her, he noticed she was almost at the point of crying herself. "Giving you trouble, is he?"

"Clearly," she snapped.

He lifted both of his hands, a surrender. "Haven't you got someone else to look after him? I'm sure Syed will..."

"Syed's gone to see a supplier," she said, curtly. She looked down to her wailing son, despairingly. "He's not normally like this. I don't know what's wrong with him."

"Let me help you."

"I don't want your help."

"But you obviously need it," he said. "I promise, it's not catching."

She looked him up and down. "You're certain of that?" She sighed, relenting. "I... fine. I wouldn't do this if I weren't desperate, you understand, but I have a function in less than two hours and the food isn't even nearly prepared. We don't even have the supplies, those useless..."

When the pram reluctantly changed hands, the crying quieted slightly. "See, look, the little fella just needs a change of scenery. He'll be fine. I'll take him 'round the Square, he'll be knackered by all the screaming he's been doing, and you can work in peace, okay?"

"Don't be long," she warned.

"I won't, Zainab," he promised.

"And don't let him eat anything off the ground. He has a habit of..."

"Look, I mightn't have a baby of my own, but I know enough to stop them eating stones, okay?" he said. "He'll...be ...fine. When will Syed be back?"

"A half-hour or so."

"Half-an-hour, then."

"Be careful!" she called after him. He could feel her watching his every step.

"Damn," he yelled back over his shoulder. "That ruins my plans to go sky-diving with him. Ruin all my fun."

"Don't even joke, Christian. You've already ruined one son."

He chose to ignore that comment. After she'd had so many shots, it was too easy to let a single one go.

xxx

Christian was walking back down towards the Unit, because his half-hour was about to run out, and the last thing he needed was more of Zainab's anger heaped on him. As he walked, he spotted Syed about to enter. He started to run to catch up with him, calling his name. Syed glanced up at the sound of his name, looking surprised to see Christian pushing a pram. Syed glanced down at the pram, and then did a double take. "Is that my brother?"

"Nah, I just kidnapped a random kid. You know how crazy baby fever can make you. If you leave a baby unattended in your back garden, you deserve to have them stolen. Yes, it's your brother. Who did you think it was?"

"You know, you can just say 'yes' sometimes," he said. "I just assumed it was Roxy's kid."

"That'd be no fun, though would it? Amy's a bit old for pushchairs, now."

"What are you doing with him?" he asked.

"Well, I was planning to sell him but there aren't any takers. But fingers crossed..." he trailed off. "Don't worry, I just borrowed him. Actually, now you're here, you can take him back to your mother."

"Back to Mum?" he asked, clearly shocked. "She let you have him?"

"I told you. If you leave a baby unattended..." he said. "Obviously, Syed."

"What did you do to her? Hypnosis? Master the art of personality transplants?"

"Actually, I caught her in the middle of a meltdown."

"And you've still got your head attached to your shoulders?" He nodded approvingly. "Impressive."

"You've given me plenty of practice with hissy fits," he pointed out.

"Ha ha," he drawled and took the pram out of Christian's hands. "You're hilarious, you know that?"

"I'm full aware" Christian gazed down at Kamil, a small smile on his lips. "He looks just like you."

"I know. It's weird, isn't it?"

"It's lovely."

Syed looked at Christian's beaming smile for a moment, and then looked away. "I think she thinks that he's a fresh start. Like, another go at me. Hopefully he won't be such a disappointment."

"Your mum still thinks the world of you," Christian insisted. "You know that."

"I'm still a disappointment. Look, I don't have time to get into this, anyway. I need to get back to work."

"Yeah, I've got some serious illegal Jeremy Kyle watching to do on my unlicensed TV, so..."

"Sounds like an exciting afternoon. Nearly as exciting as mine."

"I'm making the most of it before Ian puts me to work. I've been here well over a week now, my grace period is almost over."

Syed grinned. "Ah, when your mum's more of a slave master than Ian? You know you're in trouble."

"I think if he wasn't so upset, it would have been less than twenty-four hours, I reckon."

"Think about it. We could both wear our uniforms."

"Now you're just trying to make my head explode."

"I bet you could rip the hairnet right off me."

"Don't tempt me," he said.

"Right, seriously, need to go," he said, beginning to walk away, then paused and turn back. "Wait. You said we were going home on Thursday."

"Yeah...?"

"Why would Ian put you to work for a day? Even he's not that stupid."

"I was just joking, Sy."

He shook his head. "Sorry, I just got a bit panicky there." He shuddered. "Just the thought of staying here much longer."

"Yeah. Well, don't worry."

"Okay, I won't. I cannot wait to get out of here," he said, a wide smile on his face.

"Yeah, me too," Christian murmured, almost to himself.

"Better get back, Mum'll be losing it at the thought of her baby son being corrupted."

xxx

"You've actually, totally and completely lost it. I heard having a baby can rot your brain, but I thought that was limited to walking into a room and forgetting why you're there," Syed exclaimed.

"I'm serious. I have pretended this... problem... doesn't exist for long enough."

"No way! I'm never going to agree to this. And Christian wouldn't either. So, there's the end of your insane... whatever you're doing."

"Actually," she said and there was a definite smugness in her voice that he hadn't heard in two years. The smugness of her having one over on someone, "Christian's already said yes."

"You've spoken to him about this?" he asked, incredulously.

"Yes. He was quite enthusiastic, actually."

"Enthusiastic? No offence, but he'd rather cut off a part of his body than spend an hour in your company."

"Apparently, if it's for you, he'd do it." All of the humour was gone from her voice. She sounded oddly sad at that statement. Perhaps she was thinking of the same sentence, only reversed.

"But how's it for me if I don't want him to do it?" he asked.

"He seems rather of the opinion that it would be good for you. I agree. And it's not often he and I see eye to eye."

"No. No. No. A million times no. Seriously, there are diseases I'd rather catch than go through this. Life-threatening diseases."

"Then I suppose we'll just have to do it without you. I wonder what Christian and I could possibly talk about."

"That's amazing. You managed to find the one thing even worse."

The smugness was back. Her tongue stuck out between her teeth. "See you at seven," she said, and in that moment, he wanted to find Lucas Johnson and ask him how he'd gotten away with murder for so long.

xxx

Christian saw the irritation coming off Syed in waves, but chose to pretend he hadn't. "So. How was your mum? Has she calmed down?"

"Better. She told me to say 'flahgangagin', which I think roughly translates as 'thank you very much for taking such good care of my youngest child and enabling me to get on with my daily chores'."

"Tell her 'blegghfrunde'. She's welcome."

"Oh, yes, and just another small thing."

Christian looked at him, all wide-eyed innocence. "What was that?"

"Oh, nothing. Except you agreed to have a meal with us?"

"Yeah... look, Syed..."

"Are you actually mental? Do you want to ruin the small amount of progress I've made with Mum, with Tam? Make my relationship with Dad even worse, if that's possible?"

"No. I was just thinking about what you said before, about avoiding problems. You were right, we can't run away from this."

"We can! Easily! We can get back into the car tonight..."

"Jane's got a hospital appointment! And you promised your mum."

"But you didn't promise her anything. I'll just go without you and say..."

"No, Sy. Come on. We've got to do this at some point."

"Why? We're not exactly the picture of the Muslim family ideal, are we? And you're not exactly the meet-the-parents sort, either. Part of the trade-off with us is we don't get that normality. We don't get to have family meals."

"It'll be good for you."

"No, it'll be good for you. I'm sure you're going to have a great time, making hilarious sexual innuendos and forcing my dad to punch you in the face, again. What, was the last time not good enough?"

"He didn't punch with a fully-clenched fist..." he paused. "Syed, I'm not going to make this awkward for you, I promise. That'll take care of itself."

He sighed. "This really isn't necessary, you know. Like, at all. I could live my whole life without knowing what a meal with you, my dad, my mum and Tamwar is like."

"The last two were great."

"Let's see. One led to me being blackmailed. And the other one was the most uncomfortable experiences of my entire existence. So, yeah, great track record, there."

"Maybe tonight will be third time lucky."

"Yeah. Or maybe this'll be the one that kills me."

"Admittedly, that sounds more likely."

"You know, I'll never forgive you for agreeing to this."

Christian grinned widely. "I know."

"Do I need to start calling her Mrs. Masood?" Christian said. "Or should I just skip the preamble and start calling her 'Mum'?"

"I think she might poison your lunch, if she hasn't already, but you feel free," he said. "Look, just don't mention that we have any sort of... physical relationship, all right? And by 'mention' I mean, by way of implication, as well as you coming out and saying it."

"Ruin all my fun, why don't you? Look, Syed, I promised you I wouldn't."

"I know what you're like. You can't help yourself. I mean it, Christian. I know Mum's got some ulterior motive for getting us here, and I doubt it's to announce that she full-heartedly supports our relationship, but I still don't want to upset her unnecessarily."

"I'll be good, I promise."

"Yeah, if only you could be continuously good for more than thirty seconds at a time."

"Well, it's not my fault it's no fun."

"Where is she, anyway?"

"Probably listening at the other side of the door," Christian whispered.

Syed straightened up immediately. "So she just heard all the stuff we just said."

"Yep," Christian replied, falsely bright.

"Mum!" Syed called, opening the front door.

She was scrambling up, from where she had clearly been eavesdropping. "Hello. I didn't hear you there."

"I bet," Syed replied curtly.

As Syed glanced around nervously, his mother said, "Your father couldn't make it, unfortunately." She eyed Christian warily. "Though given the way you bring out his violent tendencies, it's probably for the best."

"So how long have we got until he returns? Not long, given how you keep looking at the door."

"Whatever do you mean?" Her innocence was about convincing as Christian's had been earlier.

He breathed out sharply. "I don't think lying to Dad will..."

"I didn't lie to him," she insisted.

"So you mentioned that Christian was calling by, did you?"

"Not in so many words," she admitted, and looked to him. "What did you want me to say?"

"Something. Just... something, Mum."

"I did mention you were coming," she said.

Hurt flashed across his face, but it was gone a moment later. "And that's why he's out? Nice to know."

"What do you expect, Syed? Your father may be unable to express himself in a rational manner, but I can't exactly disagree with him, can I?"

Syed sighed. "Tambo's up from Oxford, though?"

"It's half-term."

"All that seems like a million years ago to me," Christian said.

As soon as his mother was ahead of them, he turned to Christian. "You are going to live to regret this," Syed whispered in his ear.

"I didn't do this for me, did I?"

xxx

"... and she said 'that's just disgusting' and walked off."

Syed and Christian were both laughing hard at the story Christian had been telling about their time in Leeds involving some confusion over a blow-up couch with the neighbours, but the two Masoods were blank-faced.

Christian's laughter cleared up. "I suppose you had to be there."

"Yeah," Tamwar said vaugely.

Zainab looked at the two of them, clearly uncomfortable with the sight of them laughing and joking with their 'you had to be there' stories. "Oh, Syed, I forgot to mention. You know Parveen?"

"No..." he said slowly.

"Bushra's daughter? Small, glasses..."

"Dumped curry on your head?" Tamwar added.

"Oh, yes. That pleasant girl," he drawled. "How I've missed her. We must catch up."

"Well, she got married last month," she said, happily.

"Seriously. I always got the impression she was a... " He glanced at his mother, and finished, "wasn't the marrying type."

"Why? Because she didn't fancy you?"

"Well, she did.. a bit," Syed said defensively.

"Right, and dumping curry on someone's head is a traditional Islam way of saying 'I love you', I take it?" Christian added.

He turned his head to face Christian, who had been positioned at furthest possible distance away from him whilst still technically sitting at the table by his mother. "Don't you start," he said, then looked at his mother. "So, who took her on, then?"

"Oh, I don't think you know him. But Bushra is so pleased, and she's not easily impressed, as you well know. She always expected the eldest to marry best, because she was the most attractive, but Parveen has surprised her. The wedding was beautiful, of course. Bushra was so smug. Which I know is a permanent condition for her, but she was really laying it on thick, the condescending woman. 'Such a shame about your son and that beautiful girl. Whatever happened there?' What was I supposed to say? It's been two years and she's still harping on about it. Amira..."

Syed's head snapped up at her name. "Have you seen her? Amira?"

"Oh, yes, actually. A couple of months ago, I bumped into her on Oxford Street. Such a pretty girl, she is. I'd forgotten. She didn't say much, I suppose the sight of me brought up some less than pleasant memories. But she had a ring on her finger, so I presume she has put the past behind her."

"She's engaged?"

"Yes."

Syed smiled. "Good for her. Really, I'm pleased she found someone. I told her she would."

"Bushra said he is a very handsome fellow, too."

"Well, she'd settle for nothing less," he said.

Zainab looked faintly disappointed, like she'd been expecting a less positive reaction from him.

"Zainab, this is lovely," Christian said, if only to break the silence.

"Of course it is. What were you expecting?"

"To be honest? Tripe and entrails."

"Christian," Syed warned.

"Well, what? Am I supposed to pretend..."

"Yes, you are. So stop it. Right now. You are the one who agreed to this. I didn't want this, so don't you... Mum, why are you smiling?"

"I think this meal really is some of my best work, no?"

"Are you enjoying this?" he asked, gesturing between himself and Christian.

"No, of course not!"

"This is what this is. You're trying to create tension between us!"

"Actually, I had nothing whatsoever to do with your argument, I was being polite..."

"Oh, no. But you've been trying to create an atmosphere all night. Talking about the past and trying to make me feel jealous about Amira and do I know who's just gotten married? Yeah, Mum, thanks a lot."

"So, what? I can't mention the past now?"

"Christian and I have managed quite well without talking about it all that much."

"Well, I think it's fairly obvious you should have been," she pointed out. "Any healthy relationship..."

"Is this relationship counselling?" Christian interrupted, horrified.

Her facial expression matched Christian's exactly. "God forbid. The last thing I want is to..."

"Make our relationship better?" Syed said. "Yeah, that's evident."

"I don't think any relationship that is based on the people involved ignoring their problems is built on solid foundations. That's all I'm saying," she replied, evenly.

"We don't ignore them..." Syed said.

"Then why was coming back here such a shock to the system, hmm? Which it clearly was, if you've had such an adverse reaction to simply being here. Two people who had put the past behind them would not have such issues with being here."

"I think we should go," Syed replied, standing.

Zainab looked slightly satisfied. "I've hit a nerve, then."

"No. Our relationship is fine. Brilliant, actually."

"Of course it is, if you never face any of your problems! Every relationship would be wonderful if we all did that!" she said, tugging at his arm. "Stay. You're too skinny. He obviously hasn't been feeding you."

"You always say that," Syed said.

"Because you were always too skinny. Now, you're just ridiculous. Seriously, nobody without a wasting disease should be that thin. A couple of meals from me will sort you out."

"Yeah, because every meal is at least fifty percent over the guideline daily amounts," Tamwar commented.

"He's so clever, I can barely understand what he's saying most of the time," Zainab said, proudly.

Seeing the opportunity for a change of topic, Christian jumped at it eagerly, "So, Oxford? Second time lucky."

Tamwar tried to hide his wince at the reminder of his initial failing. "Yes, I suppose you could put it that way."

"What's it like, then? Oxford," he said it with all the significance of someone saying the Queen was coming to dinner.

"These people make me look like a drooling idiot."

"Yeah, you're practically running out of the brain power to maintain basic motor functions," Syed replied.

Tamwar nodded. "I feel like that half the time. Sometimes, they'll say something and I won't quite get it, and they look at me like my trousers are around my ankles."

"I understand. I mean, just the other day, there I was with Stephen Hawking and... Bill Gates, and, boy, was my face red!" he said. He lowered his voice, "Is Bill Gates clever? Stephen Hawking is the only one I know."

Tamwar smiled. "Yeah, he basically designed Windows and revolutionised the technological world, so fairly clever, I'd guess."

"Good. See, me, barely scraped my O-levels- that's how old I am, O-Levels- and got a job straight off. People don't really do that these days, do they?"

"I don't think you're even allowed to get a job straight after school anymore."

Christian shook his head in despair. "God, I feel ancient."

"All three of my children went to university. It was always something I was proud of them for. But Oxford..."

"Shabnam and I both went to Russell Group universities, Mum. We hardly qualify as mentally handicapped."

"I know, and I was immensely proud of both of you. But Oxford. It's the number one university in the world, is it not?"

"About fifth," Tamwar corrected.

"Fifthbest in the world? Pfft. Why'd you even bother? How many universities are there in the world?"

Tamwar smiled ."About nine thousand."

"And yours is fifth out of nine thousand? Crap, that. You ought to be ashamed."

"I am, deeply."

"Best I ever did was third place in a Mr. Gay contest. Doesn't sound too bad, except there were only ten contenders and I was pipped to the post by an unconvincing drag queen."

Tamwar outright laughed and Syed suppressed a grin but Zainab didn't look amused. "I hardly think your... exploits are appropriate for mealtime conversation," she said.

"Come on, Mum, he's not exactly saying anything out of line," Tamwar said. "Drag queen?"

Zainab glared at her youngest son. "I need to check on Kamil," she snapped, with all the friendliness she would use if she was planning to murder someone. "I'll be back."

Christian waited until she was out of earshot and continued, "Okay, in my defence, he was very pretty. And I think the voting system was tampered with. And it wasn't what you'd call 'official' as it was ten tanked-up fellas who thought I was too full of myself."

"Yeah, they were totally wrong about that," Syed said.

"Knowing you're gorgeous is a completely different thing to being full of yourself."

"You're hardly in a position to throw stones," Tamwar pointed out. "Wasn't the reason Parveen dumped curry all over you was that you said you were out of her league?"

He squirmed, uncomfortable. "I didn't say that..."

"What did you say?" Christian asked.

"It's not important."

"C'mon, I always wondered what that was about. I can't believe anything that came out of that awful Bushra could be so... amazing. But there's evidence to the contrary."

"Fine. I might have said that... there were women that would've killed to be with me. But I didn't mean it, I was just winding her up."

"Okay, there are some things that are even funnier in retrospect," Christian said, grinning. "This is one of those things."

"It should've been obvious when you didn't snap one of Bushra's daughters up, because, seriously," he said. "I just thought it was Amira. I thought it was because you were interested in Amira," he added, quietly.

"It was," he said, then clarified, "In a way."

"In what way? In a beard way?" Tamwar snapped.

"No. She was the ideal, wasn't she?"

"Yeah, she was," Tamwar whispered. His fondness of Amira clearly hadn't abated that much in her absence.

Syed looked to Christian, who had such a lack of expression it could only be forced. "I thought... if I couldn't make it with her, I wouldn't be able to make it with anyone. Any woman. I got so fixated on it..."

"Not on her, though. You weren't fixated on her. Just on the...perfect life."

"Tam, it took me a while to realise, if you don't have someone you really care about, none of that stuff actually means anything."

"I wouldn't know," he said bitterly.

"You will," Syed assured him.

Tamwar frowned. "Or I could be one of those weird old fellas who goes trainspotting as a substitute for sex."

"Yeah, I don't think trainspotting is a very good substitute for sex," Christian said.

"Exactly! So to combat my frustration I'll be shaking my fist at kids and telling them to get off my lawn!"

"You don't get to have a lawn when you're living in your parents' basement," Syed pointed out.

Tamwar scowled at him. "We don't even have a basement."

"We don't have a lawn, either," he said. "Just don't let Mum tell you who to marry."

"I don't know. I'm getting fairly desperate."

Syed shook his head. "Nobody's that desperate. Or do you fancy marrying Mum Jr.?"

Tamwar didn't give it a reply, but shuddered.

"Seriously, when I'd just finished uni, she 'introduced' me to this girl, who told me off for not folding my napkin properly and using the fork and knife in the wrong hands. Mum was practically cheering at how perfect a wife she'd be. The similarities were actually disturbing."

"No wonder you turned..." he stopped abruptly.

"What?"

"Nothing. Yeah, Mum's already trying the whole matchmaking thing a little bit, but I think she wants to wait until I've finished my undergraduate degree."

"My ears are burning," Zainab said.

"Tamwar's just saying he wants to wait until he graduates before he gets married."

"Oh, yes, definitely. No distractions. What sort of a girl wants a university dropout anyway?"

"A... one who cares about personality?" Syed pointed out.

"Oh, shush. You can hardly claim to be an expert on women, can you?"

Clearly she had blurted it out without thinking and was thoroughly embarrassed by it. Christian grinned. "The woman has a point," Christian said.

"Can't argue with that," Syed replied, lightly.

Zainab just groaned as she sat down.

She stood at the door to the living room, just watching them. Christian was saying something that was apparently hilarious, because Syed was doubled over. That wasn't what she was looking at, though. It was the look on Christian's face when Syed wasn't looking. A look she'd seen many times, but rarely so blatantly. She recognised it from one of her wedding photographs, when a thoughtful guest had taken a candid where she'd had cake all around her mouth and Masood had a look of complete adoration of her face. She'd cherished that photo more than any of the professional photographs taken that day. She pretended to be embarrassed of it, and never showed it to anyone, but it was actually because it was too precious to share. Her son looked up at Christian and the look vanished as quickly as it appeared. It had shaken her, though, more than she cared to admit to herself. She had always thought of Christian and Syed's thing- she had never given it an actual term in her mind- as something completely and totally separate from the sort of love she had experienced herself. Christian had told her he loved Syed, but it was entirely different seeing it. Recognising something in it, feeling an affinity with it, made it harder to belittle and ignore.

"Mum? Is there any particular reason you're stood in a doorway staring at the two of them like they hold the secret to the meaning of life?"

She jumped at the sound of her son's voice. "Oh, Tamwar. You scared me. I must've been daydreaming. Is your brother okay?"

He glanced at Syed, who was smiling broadly. "He looks happy enough."

She rolled her eyes. "Your baby brother."

"He's still asleep."

"Really? He's been asleep all day," she said. She lowered her voice, "You don't think Christian gave him alcohol, do you?"

"No! Why would he?"

"It can help them sleep, can't it? So they say," she said.

"Well, yeah, but I think Christian's better informed about the limits of Muslims than your average bloke."

She furrowed her brow. "He never sleeps all through the day like this."

"Maybe he's just knackered from all the screaming he all last night and this morning. Or maybe he's not too fond of Syed," he said. "Speaking of not being too fond of Syed, where's Dad?"

"He... didn't particularly want to spend his evening with Syed," Zainab said.

"...and Christian," Tamwar added. "That's understandable."

"Yes, except he didn't know about Christian."

Tamwar winced. "That's not good."

She shrugged, still looking at her eldest son."You know your father. Stubborn as an ass."

"And you bend like a willow."

Her eyes snapped back to Tamwar. "See? This is what I was talking about before, most of the time I have no idea what you're on about. Try talking down to me, that'll help."

"Mum..."

"It isn't my fault that I'm not as intelligent as you, okay, Tamwar?" she grunted.

"I get the impression that you're just projecting, so I'm not even going to comment on that."

She sighed, anger fading. "Just go check on your brother, okay?"

"I did it like five minutes ago."

"Syed. Your other brother?"

"Right, I'll just check his nappy and burp him, shall I?"

"Just go talk to him, all right?" she said.

"What about? What for?"

She sighed; she didn't want to have to spell out something so ridiculously obvious. "So he and Christian aren't alone."

He stared at her, looking utterly perplexed. It wasn't a good look on him, she had to admit. "What do you think will happen if they are?"

"You know what homose... what Christian's like."

"Right. Yeah. Of course. He is such a slave to his libido, he's just going to jump Syed on the dinner table."

Her stomach rolled at the very thought. "Don't be disgusting."

"But that's what you're say..."

"Look, just go and do it," she interrupted. "For once, don't question me."

"Fine. But I don't know if Christian has the self-control to be able to stop even in front of me."

She wondered if he was capable of being serious for more than a minute. He was just like his father in some ways. "Oxford has done you no favours, has it? Perhaps unfunny comedy is where your heart truly belongs."

"I'm on babysitting duty," Tamwar announced as he came into the living room.

Syed tore his eyes away from Christian. "Why? Has Mum gone out?"

"No, I'm babysitting you two. Apparently, you can't be trusted. Unsurprising, really."

Syed looked around, confused. "We can't be trusted with the... plates? I mean, I know Christian's old flat is in pretty dire straits but we have plates."

"No," Tamwar said, as if it was obvious, "she can't trust you alone together."

"What?" Syed asked, almost laughing.

"You can't control yourselves, evidently."

"That's actually..." Christian said, innuendo dropping from every syllable. Apparently their promise only applied when Zainab was within earshot.

"You, shut up," Syed interrupted, warningly. "Has she lost all sense of reason, Tam?"

"Well, she doesn't understand, does she?" Tamwar said. "That's hardly her fault."

"And you do?" Syed asked, surprised.

"No, I don't. Not really. But better than Mum. And, to be fair to her, you were looking like you'd just won the moon, before."

"What? No, we weren't," Syed protested.

"Look, whatever, I don't actually care. I never had a problem with the two of you..."

"Right. Of course. You were our ultimate supporter," Syed said, sarcastically. "You founded the fan club, didn't you?"

Tamwar looked at him, incredulous. "You cheated on Amira! You lied to all of us. Repeatedly," he exclaimed. His voice softened as he said, "I understand why you did it, Syed. Look, I probably would have acted similarly if I'd been in your position. I get it, not wanting to shame the family. It just doesn't make it better."

Syed looked like he was going to say something for a moment, but then sighed, resigned. "I know."

"Right, then. Look, just don't have sex while I go to the toilet, all right? Can you keep your trousers up that long?"

"I think I'll manage."

"I don't know," Christian said, and Syed's eyes narrowed considerably. "You have lost weight."

"You're so full of sh..."

"Charm? I know."

"Charm's one word for it..."

"There's another?"

"Several, actually."

Zainab heard footsteps on the stairs and launched herself into the living room almost immediately. "Where has Tamwar gone?" she asked.

"Nature calling. He was powerless to resist," he said, the implication obvious in his voice.

Syed elbowed him in the ribs. "Pack it in," he muttered through clenched teeth.

"I asked him to stay here for five minutes."

"Where were you, anyway?" he asked. "You've been gone ages."

"In the kitchen, washing up," she replied.

"You should have said. We would've helped."

"You'd leave smears," she said absently. "It'd do no good."

"Yeah, we both worked in the catering injury for ages, and we don't know how to wash up properly. That makes sense. Are you all right, Mum?"

"I'm fine, Syed," she answered, but she could hear that her voice was strained despite her effort to make it not so.

He looked at her and his previous good humour disappeared to be replaced with guilt, an expression she had become accustomed to seeing in her son. "I think we should go," Syed said. "It's getting on, and Dad could come back..."

"I don't care. You're my son and his, as well, he may well try to forget that, but he can't."

"I just can't deal with it." He glanced at Christian and back at her. "I can't."

She exhaled, disappointed. "You will come back to see me before you leave, won't you?"

"I'll be at work tomorrow. If you need me, I mean."

"That's not what I mean. Come and see me, here. Your father and you can't avoid this any longer."

"We can and I plan on it."

"No. You're the one in this situation who did wrong. Your father is merely reacting. You need to make the first steps."

"Zainab, I really think Masood and Syed can sort this out between themselves, if they want to."

"This has nothing to do with you," she snapped.

Syed moved closer to Christian, so they were almost touching. Even on a subconscious level, he was siding with him over her, she thought, hurt. "He's got a point, Mum. If Dad wanted me to try to make the first steps, he'd be here, wouldn't he? But he isn't, so he doesn't. He's hardly one to stand down in the face of adversity, is he? So the fact that he's not here says a lot."

"You're not his adversary, Syed," she insisted.

He scoffed. "No, I'm just the son who was never good enough for him. Same difference, really."

"I know you and your father didn't always have the best relationship, but he does love you. It's just difficult for him, to see you. You can understand that, surely."

"I do understand," he replied, but she thought it sounded like the sentiment behind the words was actually the opposite. "But it's difficult for me to see him, too. Some of the things he said to me..."

"I said things, too, Syed. We all said some things we regret." Her eyes flashed to Christian, who had been more than candid about what he thought about Zainab and Masood's stance on their son.

"But you were so upset. He meant every syllable. That's the difference," he said. "I'll come over tomorrow, Mum. But just to say goodbye to you and Tamwar."

"Syed..." his mother began, a warning clear in her voice.

"Come on, Sy," Christian said, pulling at his arm. "You don't want to say something else you're going to regret. You might not get the chance to take it back."

Syed's whole body language altered, relaxed. His fists unclenched, his jaw unclenched. She was very annoyed that he'd ignored her similar requests, but Christian's words so easily affected him. "Okay," he said, restraint still clear in his voice. "I love you all, Mum. And I will miss you. I just can't stay here any longer."

When Syed walked out, with Christian not far behind, she waited until she heard the door close and let a few silent tears fall, before wiping her face and assuming a blank mask that had been permanently etched into her skin after so much practice the past couple of years. When Tamwar came downstairs and enquired as to the whereabouts of Syed and Christian, he would have no idea she'd been crying minutes before, or that her, admittedly unrealistic, hopes of a family reconciliation had just fallen apart before her.