Zafir was trying to do his maths homework on Saturday afternoon when his phone rang. He picked it up, glanced at who was calling, then quickly pressed the ‘answer’ button.

‘Hi, Mum.’

There was silence on the other end of the phone. Like she’d said, Mum hadn’t rung on Friday and he missed talking to her.

‘Mum?’ Zafir heard a strange sound, almost like a hiccup, but no one spoke. ‘I can’t hear you. You must be in a dead zone.’

There was something like an intake of breath and suddenly the connection dropped out altogether. Zafir tried to ring her back but got a message saying that the phone was switched off or out of range. He put his phone down and got back to his homework. She’d try again when she was in a better spot.

Later, before he went to supper, he checked the phone but there were no new messages.

‘How’s your mother today?’ asked Ustaaz Farook. He was sitting on the hard blue-and-gold striped sofa talking to Tetah.

‘Ustaaz Farook has brought us fresh bread,’ said Tetah, before Zafir had a chance to answer. ‘I have asked him to share our supper.’ Ustaaz Farook nearly always had supper with them so that was nothing new, but Zafir was pleased they would have fresh bread tonight. He knew the professor must have been up early to get it because so few bakeries were open.

As they ate their supper – a bowl of plain rice with a handful of dried figs that Tetah had preserved last autumn and mint from the garden, plus the soft fresh bread – Tetah also asked about Mum.

‘I haven’t spoken to her yet,’ he said. ‘She rang before but I couldn’t hear her.’

‘I do hope we have good news soon. The thought of Paul locked away is becoming unbearable.’ Tetah clutched at her chest as she spoke.

‘Have you taken your pills, Lilith?’ It was the first time Zafir had heard Ustaaz Farook call Tetah by her first name.

Tetah shook her head. ‘I have no more left. It cannot be helped.’

‘I will go out tomorrow,’ said Ustaaz Farook.

‘But, you mustn’t. If those rumours are true, it will be unsafe. I’ll be fine.’

Zafir looked from Tetah to Ustaaz Farook. Was Tetah sick? Except for her headaches she’d seemed okay.

‘I’m fine,’ Tetah repeated firmly. ‘But Ustaaz Farook believes it will be better if you don’t go to school tomorrow.’

Ustaaz Farook cleared his throat. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Just for tomorrow … and maybe a few days after. On Friday, several soldiers and policemen were killed here in Homs by unknown gunmen but it is believed that now some protestors have taken up arms.’ He shook his head. ‘I fear this will bring repercussions. There are rumours now that the army is camped on the outskirts of the city. It seems prudent to keep one’s head down, so to speak.’

At mention of the word ‘head’ all Zafir could think of was what Rami had said about exploding bullets. He had a sudden picture of headless bodies in blood-soaked streets. Maybe it was smart to stay indoors.

It was weird being at home on a Sunday when he wasn’t sick and it wasn’t holidays. Tetah wouldn’t let him go out, even into the lane, and she’d said he wasn’t allowed to skate up on the roof terrace either. Zafir tried to call Mum a few times but the recorded message always came up saying that the phone was switched off or out of range. Zafir couldn’t help it. He started to worry.

He knew he had to distract himself so he wrote a long email to Rami and then another one to Eleni. He even checked his Facebook page. He scrolled through all the messages about what was happening in Dubai and looked at the new photos that had been posted. He noticed that his friends’ faces looked more grown-up now, and he realised that his Dubai life was in another time. So much had happened, so much he couldn’t talk about, and he knew he was different now too. He logged off.

He knew he should do some study for the exams that were coming up but he couldn’t concentrate. He kept glancing at his phone on the desk, willing Mum to call.

Where could she be? He picked up the phone and went through all his contacts but he didn’t want to ring anyone in case Mum tried to call. He stopped at Uncle Ghazi’s name. Uncle Ghazi had two phones – one prepaid so it was easy to make calls that couldn’t be traced and the other in his own name. Zafir called the prepaid number.

‘Hey!’ said Zafir. He was relieved to hear Uncle Ghazi’s familiar voice answering the phone.

‘I … I was going to call you,’ said Uncle Ghazi. He sounded strange. Not like the usual Uncle Ghazi. ‘I’m here. In Homs.’

‘Really? Fantastic! Are you coming over?’

‘I can’t right now because … well, I’m staying with a friend.’

‘Is Mum there with you? I’ve been trying to get hold of her.’

‘No … she’s not here. Look, Zaf, I can’t talk right now but I’m going to come and see you tomorrow. I promise.’

‘Is everything okay?’

‘Sure, sure. Everything’s okay. Don’t worry. I can explain tomorrow.’ He spoke quickly and hung up.

Mum had said she would explain later too, when Zafir had last spoken to her. Why couldn’t they just tell him what was going on?

The day passed slowly. Tetah spent most of it watching her favourite soap operas on television. Mrs Mohammed dropped by and they made Zafir play cards with them.

Ustaaz Farook came for supper. He talked about books and film and maybe going into the mountains and visiting the convent where his sister, who Tetah had grown up with, was now a nun. Tetah seemed to become more cheerful talking about the old days. There was still a niggling worry in the back of Zafir’s mind that Mum hadn’t rung, but there had to be an explanation. Uncle Ghazi had told him not to worry and he’d said that everything was okay – and Zafir knew Uncle Ghazi wouldn’t lie.