By the time I get home the fear has receded to the back of my mind. As soon as I open the front door, Sergei, who is waiting patiently for me, goes mad with joy. His excited yelps and barks echo loudly in the mausoleum-like-silence of our house.

‘Let’s go see Baba,’ I say.

He licks my face.

I stand up. ‘Race you,’ I challenge, and start running up the stairs, but he overtakes me easily and waits for me at the top. I tickle him behind his ears.

‘You win,’ I concede.

He nuzzles the back of my knee. With him following at my heels, we go down the corridor.

As I have done ever since I was a child, I don’t knock but simply enter. In my life Baba is the only open book. I have seen her naked, I have seen her sick, I have seen her cry. When she fell and broke her hip, I didn’t want her to be embarrassed by the nurse or maid changing her nappies or cleaning her up so I did it all myself. She never hides anything from me and I don’t either. Not for any length of time, anyway.

She is already in bed reading a book. She peers at me from over her glasses and smiles. ‘What a lovely surprise, Solnyshko? Did you have a good time tonight?’

I go and sit on the side of her bed and Sergei curls up at my feet. ‘Yeah, it was okay, I guess. I auctioned my emerald earrings and they fetched £75,000 for the charity.’

‘Who bought them?’

‘Guess?’

‘A frog would turn into a hog faster than Oliver would pay £75,000 for a pair of earrings so it won’t be him,’ she deduces shrewdly.

‘You’re right. Oliver was outbid by someone else.’

Her eyes widen slightly. ‘Well, well,’ she says softly.

I stare at the pretty little piece of nail art on my big toe before looking up at her. ‘Baba, I need to go and see him tonight.’

She takes off her reading glasses, closes the book, and puts it on the bedside table.

‘Say something, please.’

‘What can I say, Solnyshko? Forbidding you to see him will only fan your desire to see him even more.’

‘It’s not just desire. I miss him, Baba. I miss his voice, I miss his face, I miss his touch. I even miss the sound of him breathing. He’s waiting for me. I have to go see him. I’ll go mad if I don’t see him tonight.’

She looks at me anxiously. ‘It is dangerous for you to be out alone this time of the night. I cannot condone such risky behavior.’

‘Baba. There are so many security guards outside every house on this street that it must be the safest place on earth.’

‘Still,’ she says, her eyes full of worry.

‘Even before I get to the main road a minicab will be waiting for me. I did it yesterday and it was fine.’

‘What if it is not fine today?’

‘Oh please, Baba. I’ll be careful. I promise I’ll be very, very careful.’

She sighs heavily. ‘I’m not happy about this, Solnyshko, but go with God and don’t be careless. You hold so many people’s lives in your hands. It’s an ugly world out there and the consequences of your actions could be great.’

I stare at her. ‘There won’t be consequences. I just want to see him one more time,’ I cajole.

She smiles sadly, because we both know I am lying. There will be consequences. I’m planning on changing everything. One more time? A three-year old kid can see through that piece of fiction.

‘Your father has gone out, but I don’t think he will stay out all night so be very careful. No matter what time you want to come back in just call me.’

‘I won’t wake you until after four.’

‘I can sleep anytime. Call me when you are ready.’

‘Thank you, Baba.’

‘Wear your jeans today. The weather forecast said it might rain tomorrow.’

I grin at her. ‘Did you know I’d go to see him?’

She grins back. ‘If I was your age, I would do the same.’

I laugh. ‘Can I leave Sergei in here? I don’t want him to be lonely two nights in a row.’

‘Of course. Bring his bed in here and put it over there by the wall.’

I stand up and kiss my grandmother’s cheeks. When I am very close to her ear, I whisper, ‘His name is Noah.’

‘It’s a good, strong name,’ she whispers back.

‘I love you,’ I say, and run out of her room.

In my own room I change quickly into jeans, a T-shirt, and sensible shoes. I find a cardigan and throw it over my T-shirt. Then I fill its pockets with dog treats. Standing in front of the mirror, I take down my hairdo and tie my hair into a ponytail instead. I make the bed with the pillows arranged to look like a sleeping person, then I call the minicab company and arrange for them to pick me up in ten minutes at the end of my street.

I look around me. Everything is as it should be. I pick up Sergei’s bed and his toys and call to him. ‘Come on, you’re sleeping with your grandma, tonight,’ I tell him. He looks at me reproachfully so I hug and tell him that one day, one day, I will take him to meet Noah.

Switching off the light, I close the door and go back to Baba’s bedroom. After I have settled Sergei and bade my grandma goodbye, I run downstairs. The house is quiet and still, and the soft soles of my shoes make no sound as I go out through the side door that locks after itself. I walk quickly towards the back of the house. The Rottweilers come to me, triggering the security lights; they make quiet whining noises.

‘It’s only me,’ I tell them, giving them little liver treats.

After I have sent them away I watch the moths fly towards the bright security lights. Just before they switch off, I start to count the seconds for the camera to come back around. The lights die and I carry on counting the seconds.

When I have counted enough time for the camera to do its sweep of that patch of ground, I run to the wall and, stepping into the grooves in it, climb over it. I drop onto the other side as nimble as a cat (I have been doing this for many years) and casually walk down the road. The taxi with the minicab company’s name printed on the door is waiting for me at the end of it. I open the door, slip into it, and give the driver Noah’s address.

My heart is hammering in my chest.