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Finally having lugged and bumped the shopping trolley up the stairs after searching in vain for post in the box in the dark hallway the light being broken once more and despite the house smelling faintly of piss and cooking, it being eerily silent, I paused and mopped my brow. 

I decided not to knock on Vanya's door first because, weirdly, I could see light coming from under the door of The Room, so I tapped politely on it's shabby timbers and stood back with some trepidation as I heard someone rattling at the lock from within to open it. 

Vanya greeted me with a faint smile and ushered me inside. I trundled in with my unwieldy baggage and said a cheery Hello! to the Owner of The Room, who was sat at the table with a pile of papers and an open lap-top infront of her. She greeted me with no smile and no surprise, but gestured me to join them at the table on a stool. 

There was an extra heater blasting out hot air and Vanya's toddler was asleep in an old buggy with a blanket over her, cherubic features framed by a mass of dark curls. 

Vanya stood by the kettle and offered me some tea, which I over-enthusiastically nodded yes to as it afforded me an opportunity to hand over my gifts. 

I tried to keep my explanations as brief as possible since I was conscious of the strangely stern and apparently disapproving gaze of The Owner of The Room, but Vanya put me at my ease with her sweet and sincere thank yous and soon we were all sipping something hot and taking it in turns to butter a thick slice of the Bara Brith, which, to my great relief, cut well without crumbling too much and smelled, though I say it myself, delicious. 








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