Henry, presumably not wanting to leave me alone, promptly joined me in what turned out to be a one-roomed glorified shed. One corner could loosely be described as a kitchen area, including a mini fridge and a two-ring hob sitting on a table in between a kettle and a microwave, and in another was a single bed. The room appeared clean despite the shabbiness, and relatively tidy. The only sign of Christmas was a bunch of fir branches arranged in a jam jar.

‘Sit!’ The woman growled, pointing at a sagging brown sofa. We immediately obeyed.

‘I’m Bea, by the way, and this is Henry.’

‘Hmm.’ She gave us a good looking-over. ‘You can call me Beyoncé.’

‘Your name’s Beyoncé?’

She narrowed her dark eyes at me. ‘You think I couldn’t have that name?’

‘Um, no. I just… thought there was only one Beyoncé. I didn’t realise it was an actual name.’

Especially not a name for middle-aged women with a Russian accent.

Henry nudged my knee with his and nodded at a letter on the rickety coffee table in front of us. The name at the top was Polina Ivanov.

‘Right, well, this is very kind of you but we don’t want to take up any more of your time.’

‘No problem. I have plenty of time.’

She began slowly lowering herself onto a wooden chair, but the layers of clothes she had on underneath her pleated skirt brought her to a stop about six inches above the seat.

‘It’s very cold in here.’ Henry, his scientific assessment of the situation now complete, spoke for the first time. ‘Is your heating working?’

She pursed her lips. ‘Electric heaters are too much money. I wrap up warm, it’s not a problem.’

‘What about the fire?’

There was a fireplace built into the wall opposite us.

‘I am too old to figure out how to light that stupid thing. My knees can’t take it.’ She scanned the room as if trying to remember what was happening. ‘Ah yes, I will clean the house. You look like people who appreciate a nice, clean place. First, I will make you coffee.’

‘No, please, don’t worry. We have hot drinks here.’

‘You have coffee?’

‘Tea.’

‘Tea!’ She screwed up her face. ‘You need good coffee. I promise you have not had coffee like this before.’

‘Well, that would be lovely, then, thank you so much.’

Henry glanced at me out of the corner of his eye as she lumbered to the kitchen area. His shoulders were stiff, hands placed in perfect alignment on his thighs.

‘It’s Christmas Eve!’ I whispered. ‘She’s stuck here on her own. It’s not like we’ve got anything better to do.’

‘You still need to call your parents, let them know what’s happening.’