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Sarb didn’t like confrontation. Doesn’t. He’d rock up at mum’s house wearing a polite half-smile, and a non-confrontational collarless shirt. Pastel colours, nothing too strong. Maybe a white one, or a light grey one. He’d speak Punjabi or Hindi softly, not too brash. My family nodded and smiled, and he responded. Nicely. Sarb was nice. […]

‘She’s gone inside… And she doesn’t know it, but she’s in danger. That fool is going to ruin her. He is sly – and make sure you eat. You’re looking gaunt – I want to know where my kids are. Tell me where they are. They’ve disappeared. You don’t know the pain of a mother. […]

Zaki looked like he should be in a band. That was the first thing I thought as he met us at the door of his grandma’s house in Southall. The journey was familiar. His gran was sweet. In broken English, she made a plea to take care of her baby. I found comfort in this […]