The Penumbra City Hall, where the mayor’s Christmas party was to be held, was an imposing gothic building, lavishly decorated for the season with wreaths and bells everywhere. Warm light spilled out into the entranceway as a steady stream of well-dressed men and women entered the reception room and deposited their fur coats, top hats, scarves, and gloves with attendants before moving into the ballroom.

Charlie, feeling entirely out of place, and drawing numerous shocked stares thanks to his distinctive hairstyle, made sure to stay as close as possible to Alexandra and Vasco. Mostly, he was concentrating on not doing anything else that might draw attention to himself. It did not escape his notice that the usual group of homeless men who spent their nights outside the City Hall – and who Charlie knew relied on the building’s alcoves and arches for shelter from the bitter cold – appeared to have been moved on for the evening.

‘And who is this, Miss Alexandra?’ A muscular young man with clipped brown hair was blocking the door to the ballroom, a glint in his eye as he fixed Charlie with a nasty smirk. ‘I don’t think he’s on the guest list, is he? Are you sure your father would approve?’

‘This is Mr Charlie Carroway, who is here tonight as my guest.’ Alexandra turned her imperious gaze on the young man who had asked her the question and spoke in a voice as cold as the winter night. ‘He will not be on the guest list because our arrangements were made at short notice. Is there a problem with that?’

‘No problem at all,’ the young man said, his expression unchanged as he cast his pale eyes over the three of them and stepped aside, allowing them to enter. ‘The more, the merrier, after all.’

‘I need a drink,’ Alexandra said viciously, barging through the crowd towards the bar.

‘Is she all right?’ Charlie asked, as Vasco’s eyes raked the patrons at the bar watchfully.

‘That was Arron Dragomir,’ Vasco explained. ‘He’s under Mayor Ignatiev’s protection, so stay away from him. He knows tonight is important for Alexandra. He just wants to get under her skin.’

As they made their way further into the ballroom, Charlie stared at the scene around him in awe. He had never been anywhere like this before in his life. A high vaulted ceiling towered above their heads, from which chandeliers decked with candles and mistletoe cast a warm glow over the room. Twinkling lights were strung along the arches of the balconies all the way around the upper levels of the hall.

On a podium at the far end of the room, in front of an enormous Christmas tree, a band of musicians with an assortment of wind and stringed instruments were playing jazzy variations of well-known Christmas songs. Guests in fancy suits and dresses thronged the hall, milling around with glasses of champagne, their jewels glinting whenever they caught the light.

His heart sinking, Charlie realised that he recognised a lot of the men gathered in this room. From the way they kept shooting glances towards him out of the corners of their eyes, he had the unpleasant feeling that some of them recognised him as well.

It was only then that Charlie understood the truth of the matter.

He had been brought to places like this many times before, but not in the same guise as he came now. He had spent countless December nights in backrooms and shadowy corridors, in hotel rooms and dark alleyways. The memories blurred in his mind and spun around in front of his eyes until it felt as though it was all happening right then and there, in that very moment.

The music and raucous laughter surrounding him were suddenly far too loud. The world seemed to shrink to a whirlwind of fear, the details of the faces around him blending into each other until everyone was a threat, indistinguishable from one another.

His heart racing, Charlie headed straight for the men’s bathroom, his eyes fixed on the gleaming tiles of the floor as he went. It was only when he splashed his face with cold water that the sensation he was being smothered slowly began to fade. Bracing his hands against the washbasin, Charlie closed his eyes and fought to steady his breathing.

When he heard the snap of the bathroom door behind him, however, his eyes shot open. In the mirror, beyond his panicked reflection, stood a middle-aged man in a grey suit. There was an intrigued smirk on his face. His fingers itching for the knife he had left hidden in his sneakers back in the apartment, Charlie forced himself not to make any sudden movements, his jaw clenched.

‘What d’you want?’ he asked, washing his hands in an attempt to hide their shaking.

‘I think you know exactly what I want.’ When Charlie looked up, the older man was right behind him. His hand was trailing down Charlie’s spine from between his shoulder blades, coming to rest against the small of his back.

‘You’re thinking of somebody else,’ Charlie muttered, drying his hands before stepping away.

‘No, I could never forget a face like yours,’ the man said silkily, drawing closer to Charlie and holding an arm out against the tiled wall, blocking him into the corner. ‘I haven’t seen you around here for a few years. Would you care for a drink? It would be just like old times, wouldn’t it?’

‘No,’ Charlie said, his throat tight. ‘I don’t want anything from you.’

‘There’s no need to be coy. We know each other better than that, don’t we?’

‘I don’t –’ Charlie froze at the touch of the man’s hands on his skin.

‘I recognised you as soon as you walked in,’ he murmured into Charlie’s ear, ‘and I’m not the only one, either. We didn’t realise you would be here tonight.’ A breathy laugh. ‘What a nice surprise.’

‘Get off me.’ Dimly, Charlie registered that his voice sounded distant, as though it came from somewhere far away.

‘Come on, stop fighting me.’ His wrist was caught in a vicelike grip as the older man’s breathing grew ragged. ‘You’re here for our entertainment, aren’t you?’

‘Let go of me!’

‘Charlie, are you in here?’ Vasco stepped over the threshold, his dark eyes assessing the scene in front of him in a second. He shot the older man a look of such fury that it made Charlie quail. ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing to him?’

The older man had backed off. ‘My apologies – I didn’t realise he was already occupied.’

Vasco froze, his eyes blazing. ‘What did you say?’ His voice had grown dangerously soft.

Charlie was by his side in an instant. ‘Vasco, it’s fine – forget it,’ he said, grabbing Vasco’s hand and pulling him out of the bathroom without looking back. ‘Let’s get out of here.’

They had only made it a few steps back into the ballroom before Charlie felt his knees buckle beneath him. He stumbled against the wall, glad to have something solid to hold onto. The world was spinning around him. He thought he saw Vasco’s lips move but could not hear anything he said over the blaring noise of the band and the roaring inside his own head.

The next thing he knew, they were standing outside on a deserted balcony. Charlie rested his elbows on the stone parapet and clenched his fists against his eyes, feeling the tension slowly unknitting from his shoulders as the cold night air gradually started to clear his head.

‘Charlie, what happened back there?’ Vasco was beside him, a deep furrow in his brow.

‘Nothing,’ Charlie said dully, lowering his hands from his face and scratching at the stone with a sigh. Large, soft flakes of snow were falling straight down from the pitch-black sky above their heads. ‘I’m used to it by now.’

Vasco was silent for some time. ‘We don’t have to stay here anymore. Do you want to leave?’

‘I …’ Charlie glanced over his shoulder, his heart racing again. ‘I can’t – go back in there … with all of them.’

Vasco gave the barest nod of his head. ‘Then let’s stay out here for now.’ Without another word, he turned to stare out over the parapet, his eyes lingering on the snow-covered mountains in the distance.

‘I … had a really nice time today,’ Charlie said, the words catching in his throat, his eyes burning.

‘I did too. I really like …’ Vasco trailed off, avoiding Charlie’s eyes, ‘spending time with you … over the holidays.’

Charlie nodded, understanding his meaning. ‘Over the holidays …’

Vasco had turned to face him, one hand in his wild hair. ‘I wish –’

‘Don’t bother,’ Charlie said gently, his eyes on Vasco’s lips as he swayed on his feet. ‘Wishes don’t come true.’

‘Charlie, what’s wrong?’ Vasco asked sharply, his hand on Charlie’s shoulder, making him flinch where his old scars still ached at being touched.

‘I’m …’ Charlie blinked, his eyes unfocused. ‘I’m just a bit cold.’

Vasco placed a hand on his forehead. ‘You’re burning up. I’m taking you home.’

‘I want … to go home.’

It was the last thought that crossed Charlie’s mind before he passed out. The next time he opened his eyes, he was lying in Vasco’s bed, a cold cloth on his forehead, one of Vasco’s hands clasped around his. Vasco himself was curled on the floor beside the bed. When he noticed Charlie stirring, he sprang to his feet and headed towards the door.

‘Don’t leave me,’ Charlie heard himself say, his words barely audible.

‘I’m going to get you a glass of water,’ Vasco said quietly. ‘Then I’ll be right back.’

‘I don’t want to be … alone anymore,’ Charlie said, his voice trembling as he shivered under the covers.

Vasco had returned, and the glass of water was sitting empty on the desk.

‘No one should be alone at this time of year,’ Vasco said, laying his Christmas sweater on top of the blanket and brushing Charlie’s hand with his thumb.

Charlie stared up at the ceiling, memories swirling in front of his eyes. ‘They always leave me … all on my own …’

‘I’m right here.’ Vasco squeezed his hand. ‘I’m not going to leave you.’

‘You’re being kind to me,’ Charlie said, shifting his head on the pillows and frowning. ‘Why? What do you want from me?’

Vasco looked away. ‘I want to take care of you. I want you to rest, so you can feel better.’

Fighting his exhaustion, Charlie raised himself into a sitting position and leant forwards, his head spinning. ‘You want me to make you feel better? Don’t worry, I … I know how –’

‘Lie down and try to get some sleep,’ Vasco said, a stricken expression crossing his face as he eased Charlie back down under the covers. ‘You’re safe, I promise. You don’t need to do anything else except to close your eyes and rest.’

Charlie woke the next morning with a sinking feeling hanging over him and a heavy weight on his chest. Although he could not remember any of what had happened the previous night after he and Vasco had left the Christmas party, he had the distinct impression that he had done something horribly wrong.

As soon as he was dressed, not forgetting his Christmas sweater and socks from Alexandra, Charlie took Vasco’s sweater from on top of the blankets and went looking for him. His memory of how it had got there was foggy. In such a large apartment, he had expected the search to take quite some time, but Charlie found Vasco in the hallway outside his bedroom door, leaning against the wall with his arms folded. He almost looked as though he had been guarding it. The dark scowl on his face melted away when he glanced up at Charlie.

‘You left this behind,’ Charlie said, handing Vasco his sweater, which he put on at once.

‘If you’re feeling better,’ Vasco said, a light in his sombre eyes, ‘I have a surprise for you.’

Charlie pulled a face. ‘I don’t like surprises.’

Vasco smiled, holding out his sneakers for him. ‘Trust me, you’ll like this one.’

Once they had put on their coats, scarves, and gloves, they walked together side by side into the centre of the city. Although Charlie knew these streets well enough at night, he was unused to seeing them in the light of day. The snow that morning was falling in delicate bursts, and the wind, though as cold as ever, was much gentler than usual for the time of year. It made it difficult to tell which direction the snow that drifted above their heads was coming from. Vasco brought them to a wide plaza littered with braziers and café seating, where they climbed a set of stone steps to the edge of a large ice rink, set at the foot of one of the grander city hotels, and went to store their shoes.

‘Have you ever been ice skating before?’ Vasco asked, lacing up his skates.

Hoping his nerves were not showing on his face, Charlie shook his head, and did the same.

‘Then you’ve missed out on an essential part of your childhood.’ Pulling him to his feet, Vasco led the way out onto the ice. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll look out for you.’

Shaky on his skates, Charlie clung to the side of the ice rink for a while, getting to grips with the odd feeling of the blades beneath his feet. He figured out how to move forwards without too much difficulty, although coming to a controlled stop continued to elude him. In the end, Vasco took his gloved hand with a smile and pulled him around the rink for a few circuits, until they came to a halt in front of the huge Christmas tree that towered above them in the centre of the ice.

For a single moment, it felt as though they were the only two people in the whole world. Charlie looked up into Vasco’s dark eyes as Vasco brushed some snow out of Charlie’s hair with a familiar fond smile on his face. His heart leaping, Charlie caught sight of a sprig of mistletoe right above Vasco’s head, hanging from one of the boughs of the Christmas tree.

‘I can’t believe you did all this for me,’ Charlie said, his voice soft, as he drew a little closer. ‘I –’

‘Let’s sit down for a minute,’ Vasco said, leading them back out of the rink. ‘I want to talk to you about something.’

‘Oh,’ Charlie said, his heart sinking. ‘Yeah.’

They both changed back into their own shoes, and while Vasco went to return the skates, Charlie waited for him on the shallow stone steps leading up to the rink. He watched as smiling couples walked hand in hand up to the ice, while happy families stopped to warm themselves at the braziers, only to be coaxed into ordering hot drinks from the waiters who hurried through the maze of cast iron seats outside the cafés towards them. No one noticed him watching. The weight that had settled on his heart felt heavier than usual.

A short while later, Vasco re-appeared with two mugs of hot chocolate, which, he explained to Charlie, he had bought from a café across the square. As they sat together on the steps, their coats wrapped around themselves to stave off the cold breeze, Charlie nursed his mug and felt the warmth of the drink bleed through his gloves as he listened to Vasco’s plan. His heart was fluttering in his chest as he thought about everything that could go wrong.

‘You don’t have to go to all that trouble for me,’ he said at last.

Vasco only gave him a nudge and smiled. ‘You don’t think I’m going to let you spend Christmas alone, do you?’