Cillian followed Shunty-Mae through to the kitchen leaving a speechless Imelda to close the door. By the time she joined them she’d found her tongue.

‘He’s our guest?’ she asked, her voice slightly shrill with disbelief.

‘You sound disappointed,’ Cillian laughed, grappling with Grisha, whose ebullient greeting made up for his mistress’s reserve.

‘Sure, she’s thrilled,’ said Shunty-Mae, handing him a glass of vodka. ‘She’s just not very good with surprises. Meet my husband and Imelda’s father, Alexei.’

Alexei had been watching their guest’s entrance and reception with quiet amusement. He shook hands with Cillian, and looked him up and down, wondering if this handsome man was good enough for his only daughter. Shunty-Mae had told him that there was only one way to find out, and that was why she had invited him to dinner. The fact that Cillian had brought with him a bottle of champagne had certainly made a favourable first impression. Imelda, meanwhile, had poured herself a drink and was attempting to gather her wits together, but it was as fruitless a task as collecting fallen leaves in a frisky wind.

‘I heard that you were already getting flowers, so I brought you this.’

Cillian handed Imelda a square box tied with a black velvet band. Inside was an antique gold chain upon which hung two tiny stars and a crescent moon.

‘Here, let me.’ Cillian took it from the box and fastened it around Imelda’s neck. The brush of his fingers on her skin was exquisitely unsettling.

‘I saw it in the pawnbroker’s window a while back and immediately thought of you.’

‘And why would the pawnbroker’s shop remind you of me?’ Imelda’s voice was sharper than she had intended but Cillian didn’t appear to notice.

‘It didn’t. I just thought that you deserved the moon and stars.’

Imelda threw a napkin at him but couldn’t help feeling ridiculously pleased.

Once Alexei had filled their plates, Shunty-Mae got down to business. Her interrogation was barely disguised as conversation, but Cillian answered her questions about his family and childhood in Ireland with good-natured humour. He was, however, less forthcoming about his future. ‘I’m happy enough doing what I’m doing for the time being,’ was as much as he could offer. Alexei entertained with stories of his parents’ early life in Russia and their escape to England. Her grandparents’ history was as familiar to Imelda as her childhood teddy bear. She was proud of both her Russian and Romany ancestry and never grew tired of hearing about it, and she was pleased to see Cillian getting on so well with her father, but she was also still in shock that he was there at all – and at Shunty-Mae’s invitation!

‘What was Imelda like when she was a little girl?’ Cillian asked Alexei.