I open my mouth to speak, but suddenly my throat is constricted, and tears start to fall. Hearing his voice like this, I have so many memories. I have a dull ache in my stomach, a sudden, intense longing to be at home. Back in the mansion in the countryside, surrounded by fields and flowers and fresh air. Away from this place, this too-bright, echoing space filled with adrenaline and anxiety and too many chattering voices.

‘It’s me, Daddy. How are you?’

He lets out a longer sigh now, slow, steady. I imagine him slumping down onto the sofa in his office, sinking into the squashy, cracked leather. That sofa is older than me, and I had always loved sitting there – curled up, watching him work at his wide desk, framed by a picture window looking out onto the manicured lawn and the open fields behind.

‘Where are you, Veronica? We’ve been very worried—’

‘No need to worry,’ I say, cutting him off. I hold the phone away from me for a moment while I sniff, and wipe my face quickly with the back of my hand. I don’t want him to think I’m upset. I can’t be upset. He’s always said that I am so strong. ‘I’m in Berlin,’ I tell him. I considered lying, but he does need to know where I am if he’s going to be able to help me. ‘Not sure how long I’ll be here. Thing is—’

‘How much do you need?’

It’s my turn to sigh. Is this all we are now? Two people who only speak when one of them needs money. One of them being me.

‘Thing is,’ I start again, ‘I’ve actually lost my bank cards.’ This isn’t a lie. Ivan made me get rid of every single one. Cut them up and burned them and threw the ashes in the Moskva. It’s like he knew that what happened in Irkutsk wasn’t the first time. I mean, of course he’d know. Any normal person would’ve called the police.

I hear the sound of a keyboard tapping down the phone. ‘I can arrange a new card and account at Targobank – the branch on Friedrichstraße. Can you get yourself there?’

‘Yes, I—’

‘Good. Good.’ His voice is clipped, the warmth of his initial greeting gone. ‘I need to get on, Veronica. I’ve got important meetings today. Your mother will be home soon.’

Subtext: your mother will be home soon and I need this transaction dealt with before she comes back and finds out what I am doing. I get it.

‘Thank you, Daddy. I’ll pay you back soon, I promise. I’m thinking of coming home…’

The keyboard tapping stops, and I hear the sound of a door slamming shut.

‘Don’t come home, Veronica. Goodbye.’

He cuts the connection before I can reply.

Shit. Shit!