I met this Iranian young couple last night, a musician and a girl who ate salad, who want to marry people with UK passports, even if it means only one of them succeeding and they have to split up.
My job is to find them a TV.
Two weeks ago I got my mum to pick up this big TV-set I had promised to collect from a friend's house but didn't really want. My mum couldn't believe she had a big TV in the back seat of her car with no destination and there was no way she would accommodate it in the house.
As I live in south London, and my parents west, she was stuck with it and very angry. Why did I pick it up for you if you don't want it, she shouted. My thinking was that if you have a working colour television it won't be long before someone comes along you can give it to, so why chuck it?
My mum said had we not collected the TV we would not be faced with what to do with it, but what harm can a TV do in the car, I said. It's too big to steal and heavy enough to stop floating if there is a sudden reduction in gravity.
Last night I phoned my dad and said what news of the TV? He said your mum's bonkers, she's given it to Mehdi. Mehdi is a mentally ill relative who has little need for a TV and will probably set fire to it.
There is one small TV set at my parents' house which I don't use but as my grandmother watched soaps on it in the last years of her life, it has some meaning for me, even though it's a grey box.
While I would be prepared to lend it to them, I would want it back after five months, assuming they'd go back to Iran, but what if they don't, what if they both stay – what if they fall in love with the people they marry, or one does the other doesn't and there's all out war in Bounds Green? What will happen to my grandmother's TV?
Tune in next week.