Upstairs, women are demonstrating how to wear a hijab. They fasten scarves on their visitors’ heads with a neat, pearl-topped pin.
Young children excitedly show me their sweets and ask me questions about my camera and microphone. Every answer is met with a curious, “Why?”.
The conversations remind me that in the week after the riot, parents felt too scared to send their children to a summer play scheme. They are still wary.
Three women agree to speak to me. They are nervous, so I film them with their backs to the camera.
“Hull’s been my home for almost 20 years,” one woman tells me. “But I’ve never felt as uncomfortable and shaken up and distressed as I did after the riots.
“It’s still taking a while to just feel safe again. You always have that feeling that, you know, you’re looking over your shoulder. You’re always wondering, is it safe?”
Another adds: “Just like anybody else, we should be able to feel free and happy.
“Hull is very diverse. We have lots of different communities here and live pretty well with each other.
“But you are wondering, who could be out there that feels so strongly against something they don’t even know about. It’s going to take time.”
