I pressed the bell and steeled myself. It was risky, but if he refused to help Nick, or even to speak to me, I would threaten to expose him. The door opened to reveal Honeysette wearing an overcoat, about to go out. He blinked, clearly surprised to see me, and glanced nervously over my shoulder before taking me inside without a word.

His large, warm parlour was decorated with pictures of Marx, Engels and Blunt, and with stacks of books all around. They were everywhere – old and new volumes – as was the sweet smell of cherry tobacco. I couldn’t help but think of my father, who had infused our little house with the same scent. Comrade Honeysette stood upright in the centre of the room with his arms by his sides, waiting for me to say something.

‘We met at –’ I began.

‘Yes, I remember.’

‘I’m here on my husband’s behalf.’

‘He sent you?’

‘Yes.’

‘Why?’ He was suspicious.

I thought it best to face him down; it was less risky than an excuse that could fall apart under scrutiny. ‘He has business to attend to. It can’t wait. And neither can I.’

He stared at me, evidently weighing up the situation. ‘You know what this concerns?’

‘Yes,’ I said.

He paused. ‘Then tell me.’

I kept myself in check as much as I could. There was only one thing I could think of. ‘Orders from America.’

He pursed his lips, considering. He seemed to take in the expression on my face, the way I was standing.

‘All right,’ he said after a while, although he didn’t seem entirely relaxed.

With his back to me, he went to a polished wooden box on the mantelpiece, opened it and took out a brown envelope. He placed something in it that I couldn’t see and handed it to me, hesitating just for a brief moment. I lifted the flap and looked inside. It held two five-pound notes. It was all so strange and I had no idea what I was supposed to do with them. There was little point leaving with them, though – they told me nothing. I tried to fill the pause, hoping he would say more so I could better understand the situation. ‘Do you have a message for Nick?’

‘No, that covers it,’ he said, indicating the envelope and apparently waiting for me to do something, tell him something, take something – leave?

I tried to think of anything else to say or do. The wait became impossible and I began to lose control. I opened my mouth to speak but could only stutter the beginnings of words. I was utterly at a loss.

His eyes widened as realization dawned on him. Wildly, he snatched the money back. ‘Get out!’ he ordered me.

I didn’t know what to do. He began to push me hard towards the door; he wasn’t a strong man but he was stronger than me.