Sunday January 15th. Evening.

Meeting the family. Never a quick process in the middle east. There's the Syrian uncle who's a Doctor of Law - yes, an actual Valeyard - his father, and two eldest sons - who really are called Muhammed and Ali.

Another uncle, who seems to only wear track suits, and at least two of his young daughters - who greet visitors with handshakes and air kisses. An uncertain number of boys aged between 5 (always laughing and climbing on things) and 13 (being surly and stopping them doing it, because they think that's what being grown up is about).

And...the entire point of writing this section, the unfeasibly sexy Mustafa. 25, training to be a doctor, worried that his incredibly good english isn't good enough, cynical about humanity and romantic that is can be bettered, and...well, unfeasibly sexy.

And non-halal pigs might fly.

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