A Scandalous Man. Gavin Esler

need the Arabic language as well.’

      ‘Thank you, Zumrut. Please.’

      And so it went. A sad-faced black man from northern Nigeria, Mohammed, said he was learning Arabic ‘for religious reasons’. That was all he said. The teacher nodded at Harry.

      ‘Please. Perhaps a little more information from each of you, including any languages you already speak.’

      ‘I am a linguist,’ Harry replied. ‘A translator. At the moment I am working on a translation of some early Milan Kundera short stories from the Czech into English for a British publisher, and I am also helping with the translation of some poems by William Butler Yeats. I work from home. I also translate business and technical documents. I see learning Arabic as two things. Fun – I am interested in the development of language and I know that Arabic is the language of grammarians. And I also see it as a good business opportunity for me in the future. I am interested in Islamic culture too, but I’m not religious. Maybe you could say I’m an ethnic Christian.’

      ‘Fine,’ Abdul Aziz said, nodding towards Raj. ‘And you?’

      ‘Scholarship,’ Raj said. ‘I’m not so sure about the fun, but I hope to enjoy it too. I also want to read the Holy Koran properly, because I am not sure how much you can ever trust a translation, or a translator.’ He smiled at Harry. ‘No offence meant, but even the best translations are bound to miss something. And I would like to explore Arab culture. It’s like a part of me – but not a meaningful part. Or not yet.’

      ‘What do you do, please?’

      ‘I’m an immigration lawyer. Some of my clients are Arabs, so it would come in useful at work too. Iraqis because of the war. Algerians. Also Iranians and Afghans.’

      ‘Ah, so George Bush is at least good for business,’ Harry whispered to Raj. ‘Glad he’s helping someone.’

      At the back of the class sat two middle-aged Pakistani men neatly dressed in suits and ties. They knew each other. One spoke for both. The one who spoke said they were originally from the same village in Pakistan and now ran a taxi business together in west Ealing. Their first language was Urdu.

      ‘We wish to go on Hajj pilgrimage and we need Arabic,’ the one who talked said in heavily accented English. ‘Also wishing to understand our religion better.’

      Abdul Aziz nodded at the other man who said simply, ‘Same.’

      He moved on to the remaining two students, who were also sitting together at the back.

      ‘My name is Rafiq,’ the first said, with a London accent. He was in his early twenties, with a wispy short beard. ‘I want to travel. That’s why I need to learn the language.’