Ruby shifted her eyes away, to where the stove glowed red and gold, a blackened log at its center, turning to ash. He could always see the truth; it was stupid trying to pretend. Other people could never tell when she lied to them, but Sam saw through it every time. Though, it may have been that she didn’t want to hide things from him. With most people, Ruby wanted them to leave her alone. With Sam, she wanted him to see her properly. But in that moment, it was too much for her to think about trying to explain it all to him.

“Not now,” she said. “I just need to sleep now.”

“Fine,” he said. “But if it turns out you’ve stolen someone’s kid, then I’m not sure I can help you with that.”

“I haven’t. I promise you. The mother knows about it. She asked me. And I’m like a mother to her anyway. You saw how she is with me.”

Sam nodded slowly. He didn’t say anything for a minute or two. He passed her a cold bottle of beer. A short while later he inhaled as if he was about to speak, then made an indecisive mmm sound that could have been a yawn. She felt him observing her, which made her feel awkward in the unfamiliar clothes she was still wearing, and when she glanced up in the dim light, she could tell he was frowning.

“I’ll tell you in the morning, I promise.”

“Is that going to be my Christmas present, you answering all my questions?”

“Oh, mate. Christmas present? Yeah, I guess it’ll have to be.”

“Don’t feel bad. I didn’t get you anything either.”

They both looked at the sleeping form of Leonie.

“I should have done something for her, though,” said Sam.

“No, don’t worry. She’s too young to be aware. Christmas is overrated anyway. In my house it’s been a sham for the past few years, my mother drunk all day, everyone pretending things are normal, that we’re the perfect family. I know they tried their best, but even as a kid I never felt like I belonged. Not properly.”

She caught Sam’s eye. He hadn’t stopped watching her. “You belong here, though. So, you can forget all that, can’t you.”

“I can try. Christmas is like fucking Groundhog Day. The same songs, the same shit in the shops. The same food.” She looked up. “Oh, I just thought; you didn’t get a turkey, did you?”

“Of course not, you tit. I’m a vegetarian. I was going to do curry.”

“Well, thank goodness for that. I can’t stand the stuff. And gravy granules make me hurl.”

“No danger of turkey. Or Christmas telly, of course, because I haven’t got one. And looks like no presents either.”

She smiled. “Sounds completely perfect.”