‘You’re late. What have you been up to?’ Shunty-Mae narrowed her eyes and looked her daughter up and down as though searching for incriminating clues.

‘Leave her alone, lyubimaya. She’s a grown woman with a life that’s her own. You were never like this with our boys.’

Alexei kissed his wife on the cheek and poured Imelda a glass of vodka from the open bottle on the table.

‘And look what happened to them! Paul and Peter deserted us to live on the other side of the world and Mark married his driving instructor.’

‘But Damian joined his father’s business.’

‘Yes! Because he’s the only one with any sense.’

Shunty-Mae scowled at Grisha and took a swig from her own glass.

‘Your father’s been slaving away over a hot stove making dinner and you are so late that it’s almost ruined.’

Alexei laughed out loud.

‘Please don’t fret on my behalf, my love. My stroganoff is a forgiving dish – more forgiving than you. It’s quite happy simmering away.’

Imelda sat down and Grisha slumped at her feet, drooling slightly at the rich, tantalising smell that filled the kitchen.

‘I went for a walk on the beach to clear my head. It’s been a busy day with some tough readings. I had to tell some poor woman that her husband’s probably cheating on her with her sister, and a man that his business will close before the year is out.’

Shunty-Mae raised her eyebrows. ‘What business?’

‘A pawn shop.’

‘Serves him right!’ said Shunty-Mae, banging her glass down on the table ‘Making money out of other people’s misery.’

Imelda sipped her vodka. ‘For once I’m inclined to agree with you. He turned really nasty when I told him what I saw in the cards – said that they were lying and that I was talking rubbish. Grisha had to help me kick him out.’

Shunty-Mae topped up their glasses. ‘Well, at least he’s useful for something,’ she muttered.

‘He’s brave and handsome, like me.’ Alexei began laying plates and cutlery on the table before ladling the stroganoff into a large blue and white china tureen. A couple of spoonfuls also found their way into Grisha’s bowl and he slunk out from underneath the table to where Alexei had surreptitiously placed it on the floor by the back door.

‘I hope you got his money before he went,’ said Shunty-Mae, helping herself to mashed potatoes.

Imelda shook her head.

‘He insulted my cards. I didn’t want his dirty money. Besides – I didn’t get a chance to tell him, but I saw something much worse in store for him than unemployment.’

Shunty-Mae raised her glass. ‘Well that’s something worth drinking to.’

Once Alexei was seated, she said grace.

‘Dear Lord, bless this food, our home, the vardo and all those we love. And may the pawnbroker get what’s coming to him. Amen.’