She had been prepared for the weather in Russia in November, and had packed accordingly back in London, her Teach Yourself Russian CD whirring in the background, refreshing her memory as she stuffed her suitcase with as many base layers as she could feasibly fit in. It would be seven o’clock at home now, she thought as she stepped down the metal staircase onto the tarmac, imagining Tom settling in front of the news with a microwave meal before heading out to his weekly rehearsal, his guitar slung over his shoulder. Closing her eyes, she breathed in the fumes of the plane and smiled.

Her driver, Oleg, was waiting at the Arrivals desk, ready to usher her through the crowds.

‘Have you been to Russia before?’ he asked.

She shook her head. ‘Never. I hear it’s a beautiful country.’

He said nothing as he pulled open the passenger door for her, remaining silent as the car sped along a single road that cut through endless pine forests. With no streetlamps to light the pitch-black night, the motion of the vehicle lulled her to sleep, and when she woke up to the sound of Oleg slamming the driver’s door closed, she saw that they had arrived, the city lights casting an eerie glow across the sky as she stepped out.

‘You’ve done well,’ he said as he led her towards a luxurious block lining Patriarshiye Ponds. ‘All this used to be communal apartments. You’ve read The Master and Margarita?’

She nodded.

‘Mikhail Bulgakov lived around here in the Thirties and this was where the tram scene at the beginning of the book was set. As you can see, it’s a very different place now.’

Looking up, she took in the tiers of grand windows set within a sand-yellow façade, and felt a shudder that she put down to the cold.

‘Surely, this isn’t …’

Oleg made a face to show that he was as surprised as she was by the scale and grandeur of her sleeping arrangements.

Unlocking the door, he shrugged. ‘Apparently your apartment hasn’t been sorted out yet, so you’re staying here for a few nights. Your boss, Guy Emsworth, it’s his place when he’s in town …’

Noting her expression, Oleg said, ‘Oh, he’s not here now. I’m sorry, I assumed you knew. But I don’t think there’s any hurry for you to leave. He won’t be here for a couple of weeks …’

Gabriela nodded, trying to keep the excitement from her voice. ‘Sure, that’s fine.’

‘You have everything you need?’ he asked, leaving her alone in the flat, her single suitcase in the middle of the room looking pitifully small below the high gilded ceilings.