‘Okay.’ She hands the phone back; she sounds very tired. ‘Okay.’

They are free of London now and speeding past fields fringed by shadowy woods and dusted with snow. Lina’s eyes have closed and her head rests against the window. The roads are busy but Melissa drives as fast and smoothly as she can. The tall spire of the cathedral takes her by surprise when it appears between the hills. The satnav guides her to the suburbs, an unremarkable street of terraced houses, damp pavements, box hedges and wheelie bins. She pulls up outside the gate.

Lina struggles awake and looks around, taking in the houses and the road. Is she working out where her escape routes may lie?

‘We have arrived, Lina. This is your refuge,’ Melissa tells her softly. ‘You’ll be safe here.’ They get out of the car. She won’t mention plans or promise visas; it’s enough that they have arrived, that a different life is about to start for Lina. She digs in her handbag, tears out a page from her diary, scrawls her mobile number and hands it over. Then she takes Lina’s hand and together they walk through the wooden gate and up to the front door.

Eve

Eve and Grace cower behind the half-open door of the sitting room. Through its hinged gap they see Igor enter the bungalow, he is still wearing Eric’s jacket over his pyjamas. His body seems to fill the narrow hallway as he walks past. Eve’s heart is beating wildly, Grace is silent beside her, scarcely breathing. The electric murmurings of a kettle reach them from the kitchen, then the clash of cups. He is getting ready for guests. Who can he be expecting, what accomplices?

Igor’s footsteps come out of the kitchen, cross the lower part of the hall and enter the little cloakroom. Eve holds her breath and then it comes, a bellow of surprise. He has seen the open window and surmised a break-in. They hear his footsteps coming closer as he heads back down the hall. Eve moves swiftly, ignoring the little ripping noise of fingernails on cloth as Grace tries to hold her back. She steps out, barring the front door. Igor comes to a halt in front of her, his face blank with shock. He looks familiar yet different, as if he had turned into his older brother or even his father. His cheeks are loose, the eyelids swollen as though he has been crying. He shoulders roughly past her and disappears out of the door, shouting something in Polish. Eve fumbles for her phone while Grace starts after him before a policewoman appears, Eric at her shoulder, Igor hovering behind him. The policewoman is new to them, young and fierce-looking, her thick brows low as if angry. Eric’s are raised in disbelief.

‘What are you doing here?’ His voice is furious. ‘This is Igor’s house.’