Leonie stared blankly at Ruby, as if she didn’t understand. Then she laughed and started wriggling to be let down. Ruby had to hold the little hand tightly to stop Leonie wrenching it away. With her free hand, Ruby struggled to jam a beanie hat on her own head, tried to hold her jacket closed with frozen fingers as they made their way down the platform and out onto the streets of York.

They’d spent the past two nights holed up in bed and breakfasts, one in Leicester, the other on the outskirts of Leeds. The landlady this morning had served fizzy orange in a wineglass in lieu of bucks fizz to mark the season, but she’d also folded her arms and looked at her watch, anxious for her unwanted guests to leave. The woman had made no secret of the fact that Ruby and Leonie were inconveniencing her when they’d turned up late the previous night. (“I never open on the twenty-third; I’m afraid you’ll have to go elsewhere.”) Ruby’s distraught face had softened her slightly, but it was Leonie’s silent weeping when she saw Ruby was upset that had swung it in the end. (“Fine, stay the night. But you’ll have to change the sheets yourself.”) On their way out, the woman had half-heartedly asked Ruby where she was going for Christmas, though as she spoke, she was opening the front door and ushering them through it as if to make sure they definitely were going somewhere, and she didn’t really care where exactly that was.

“Don’t worry about us,” Ruby had said, thinking, As if you would. “We’re going to see an old friend.”

“Oh, good,” said the landlady, seemingly relieved to be let off the hook after being such a Scrooge. “You have a lovely Christmas now, won’t you?”

Ruby worried now that she’d said too much. If Gregor somehow found out that they’d been at that B&B and questioned the owner, would “an old friend” give him anything to go on? She couldn’t recall ever mentioning Sam to him. Not that Ruby would have talked about Sam in any great detail to anyone. The pair had a patchy history, had shared a fair few dark moments. They’d helped each other when they’d been at their lowest points; those stories were no one else’s business. She also knew, deep down, that Sam was in love with her. But she couldn’t recall every single thing she’d spoken about to Gregor, especially in the time before she knew what he was.

The taxi driver was wearing a Santa hat, but his face was thin and pinched. “It’s double time today, love.”

“Merry bloody Christmas,” she muttered as they pulled away.