He eased the door open and peeped in. With the light from the landing behind him, he could see Irena sitting upright in the bed, her knees pulled up to her chest, her face streaked with tears.

‘I am sorry for wake you,’ she apologized, swiping at her cheeks with the back of her hand. ‘But I am so scared.’

‘Bad dream?’ he asked.

‘It was not dream,’ she insisted. ‘I hear noise outside, and I think Nikolai has find me.’

Frank went over to the window and peered out into the blizzard. There were no footprints or animal tracks in the snow on the ground, so he closed the curtains and turned back to Irena.

‘There’s no one out there, love,’ he assured her. ‘And no cars have come past, because I’d have heard them, so try to relax and get some sleep, eh?’

‘Will – will you stay with me?’ Irena asked, her voice so quiet Frank thought he’d misheard her.

‘Sorry?’ He tipped his head to one side.

‘I see monster every time I close my eyes,’ she sniffled. ‘But I will feel safe if you are with me. Please, Frankie.’

Frank stuffed his hands into his dressing gown pockets. He dreaded to think what people would make of this if they ever found out, but he had a feeling that neither of them would get back to sleep if he left her alone with her demons.

‘OK,’ he said. ‘If it’ll help, I’ll stay with you until you fall asleep.’

‘Thank you,’ she said gratefully, shuffling over to the other side of the bed. ‘It will help very much.’

Relieved to see that she was wearing the old nightgown of Maureen’s he’d given her, Frank climbed onto the bed and sat stiffly back against the headboard, his legs stretched out before him.

Beside him, Irena sighed and closed her eyes, murmuring, ‘Goodnight, Frankie.’

‘Night,’ he said, stifling a yawn.

8

‘Are you awake?’ Maureen’s soft voice worked its way into Frank’s dream.

‘No,’ he replied sleepily, his eyes still closed. ‘S’up?’

‘I can’t sleep,’ she said, her warm breath caressing his cheek.

‘Sshhh . . .’ He rolled over and placed his arm over her.

She wriggled closer and slid her hand up under his pyjama top, and Frank groaned when she raked her fingernails through the hairs on his chest before slowly trailing them down over his stomach.

‘Make love to me, Frankie,’ she whispered, sliding her hand inside his pyjama bottoms.

His eyes snapped open, and he jerked away from her in horror.

‘Oh my God, I’m so sorry,’ he spluttered. ‘I was dreaming, and I thought – I thought you were Maureen.’

‘Please don’t stop,’ Irena begged, sitting up and taking his face in her hands. ‘I want you, and you want me, too – I know you do.’