Moving faster still, she lets her eyes roam the room and in the silence she must reconcile herself to the fact that she doesn’t truly know him at all. She doesn’t know anything about his life, not really, just as he knows nothing about hers. Much as she wants to believe he is unaware of the purpose of the visas his company doles out, she cannot think that he is so naive, so detached from the work to which he dedicates so much of his life. Either he knows, or he chose not to ask.

But what does that matter now? Either way, she understands what she has to do.

Pulling out her phone, she dials Polina’s number but it goes straight to voicemail.

Banging doors as she moves from room to room, she calls out her name. ‘Layla?’ But she is not here.

A sick feeling rises up inside her as she reaches the top of the stairs. Just as she takes her first step, she sees Polina’s silhouette at the door. In her arms is Layla, her face breaking into a smile as she sees her mother.

Gabriela runs down the stairs to her, her whole being shaking with relief as she envelops her daughter in her arms.

Polina laughs, taken aback.

‘Where were you?’ Gabriela says forcefully, looking over her daughter’s shoulder at her.

‘By the river,’ Polina says, her voice more wary now. ‘Layla was restless so I took her for a walk. Is everything all right?’

Closing her eyes, she relaxes her grip on Layla slightly.

‘Sorry. Everything is fine. There was just a change of plan, that’s all. I panicked …’

She gives Polina a reassuring smile and says, ‘If it’s OK with you, I thought I might take Layla out for the day. What do you think, Layla? You and me, shall we go out somewhere nice?’

When Layla smiles, there is a familiar expression, the way her mouth curls up at one side, and she realises it is herself who she is seeing. Layla has always looked so much like her father, the same tight dark curls, the same dark eyes, the prominent brows. If she hadn’t come out of her, Gabriela might have questioned her provenance before this moment, before this flash of her own face in her daughter’s.

‘You want to come with Mummy? OK, let’s do it!’ She turns to Polina, giving her brightest smile. ‘Is there a change of clothes in her bag?’

‘Of course. And a couple of nappies, and her dummy. I know you’re keen for her to give it up, but it offers her comfort when you’re gone, and I really don’t want to take another thing away from her right now.’

She means nothing by it, but this comment makes Gabriela flush. The smile falters on her lips.