Necessary as Blood

they‘re any good at it. But I wouldn‘t discount the other brother. The talker.‘
    ‘Kevin.‘ The thought of Kevin‘s face made Gemma press the ice pack to her head again.
    ‘You okay? Any dizziness?‘ Rashid was half out of his seat, looming over her.
    Gemma inched back on her bench. ‘You should work with live people. Great bedside manner.‘
    Rashid subsided onto his own bench, looking sheepish. ‘Sorry. Too many years of looking after neighbours and aunties and cousins who don‘t take me seriously.‘
    ‘But you‘re a doctor,‘ Gemma said, surprised.
    ‘I‘m a snotty-nosed kid from a housing estate.‘ For just an instant, Gemma could see the boy that Neal Weller had described.
    ‘Not any more.‘ Gemma smiled at him, and he returned it. Then she asked, ‘Do they come to you for advice, these neighbours and aunties and cousins?‘
    ‘Only in a very roundabout way. Medical degree or not, I‘m still a male, and they‘re not comfortable talking to me.‘
    She thought about the clinic in Rivington Street. ‘Would they talk to other women?‘
    ‘Maybe. If they felt safe.‘ Rashid finished his coffee, then cast a disapproving glance at her half-drunk tea. ‘You should finish that. And it might not be a good idea for you to drive. I should see you home.‘
    There was something so charmingly old-fashioned in the way he phrased it that Gemma found herself beginning to blush. ‘No, really, I‘m fine. My head just hurts a little.‘
    ‘They don‘t know where you live, those two? You shouldn‘t be on your own.‘
    ‘No. I‘ve got kids — and my partner — waiting at home for me.‘ She felt stupidly awkward, wondering why she‘d felt the need to explain her situation, and the flush intensified. ‘I really should go. Thanks for your help.‘
    Tentatively, she felt the tender spot on her forehead. It had just occurred to her to wonder how on earth she was going to explain to Duncan what had happened. He would want Kevin and Terry Gilles‘s heads on platters, and that would not be good at all.

Chapter Twenty-Two

One of the few sentiments which unites all generations of the Bangladeshi community is the feeling that white families fail to protect the interests of needy members. Even though their successful children may now want to live separately from their parents when they marry, and even leave home when single in a few cases, most still believe in the moral solidarity of the family and the importance of putting family interests before those of the individual. Indeed, in most situations individual interests are seen as best served by the family.

Geoff Dench, Kate Gavron, Michael Young,
The New East End

    It was Toby who noticed it first. ‘Mummy, what happened to your head?‘
    She was putting away the groceries she had picked up at the supermarket on her way home, having taken advantage of the fact that she had the car, but now she felt a little queasy at the thought of eating.
    Kit looked up from the fantasy novel he was reading at the kitchen table. ‘Ow! You do have a lump.‘
    ‘I went to get some things for Charlotte, and I bumped my head in the loft.‘
    ‘What did you get for her?‘ asked Toby, who was picking through her shopping bags like a puppy looking for treats.
    ‘Some art pencils.‘
    ‘We went to visit Charlotte today,‘ Toby informed her. ‘Wes took us.‘ He abandoned the bags as unrewarding. ‘Can I draw with the pencils?‘
    ‘No, they‘re Charlotte‘s. You‘ll have to ask her first.‘
    ‘When? When are you going to give them to her?‘
    ‘I don‘t know,‘ Gemma snapped, her patience fraying. Her head was splitting, and there were times when she thought her son was a terrier disguised as a little boy.
    She had meant to stop at Betty‘s on the way home, but at the last minute she had put it off. She didn‘t think she could face seeing Charlotte, not with the image of the girl‘s uncles still so freshly imprinted in her mind.
    ‘Kit, will you light the barbecue? I‘ve got some chicken for dinner, and a salad.‘ Gemma had discovered that the oil-fired cooker she had so fancied was a monster to cook on in the summer heat, so most evenings they resorted to cold salads or pasta, or used the charcoal barbecue on the patio.
    Fortunately, Kit was a nascent pyromaniac and, having applied himself to the project with scientific intensity, had become an expert at lighting and tending charcoal.
    ‘Roger that,‘ he said and got up, but instead of heading