and gleaming with pride and excitement. She kissed his face enthusiastically, breathing him in. The star was fashioned from tinfoil and cardboard from a cereal box, things they had in the house. Reveka had bought glitter glue, which Benke had joyfully and inexpertly smeared everywhere: the star, the tiny kitchen table, his clothes. There was more glitter on his hands than on the decoration; that had delighted him. He clapped and repeatedly yelled, ‘Me have kissmas magic, me have kissmas magic.’
‘You have indeed!’ laughed Reveka. She gently lowered Benke back down to the floor. They both took a step back to admire their handiwork. ‘Beautiful!’ she enthused. Reveka had brought about half a dozen Christmas ornaments with her from home. Benke had been besotted with the jewel-coloured glass trinkets. He’d teetered on the verge of a tantrum when she wouldn’t allow him to handle them. The tantrum had only been diverted because she persuaded him that he could instruct her as to exactly where they ought to go, that he was in control overall. All six decorations were currently huddled at Benke’s eye level; the rest of the tree looked a little spartan. She’d rearrange them tonight, spread them about a little, after he was in bed. Reveka had bought coloured Christmas lights from the pound shop. They cost two pounds, not one, but still. She knew a lot of people only ever bought white twinkling lights but Reveka liked colour. She’d also bought tinsel. Five streamers, all different colours, they filled up the tree nicely. It looked wonderful. Reveka loved the pound shop. She had once watched an old film called Breakfast at Tiffany’s. The beautiful actress was supposed to be poor and she felt happiest, safest, at the jewel shop Tiffany’s. Reveka didn’t think the actress seemed very poor; although she was very thin, she was beautiful thin, not penniless thin. Still, Reveka understood the film, liked it even. The pound shop was her Tiffany’s. Tonight, when Benke was in bed, she would wrap up his Christmas presents in the paper she had bought there. It had cheerful little reindeers on it. She’d taken ages deciding which wrapping was the most perfect. She had not bought ribbons. Ribbons were lovely, but even at Christmas Reveka had to make choices and she didn’t need to spend the extra pound.
She drew the bath, tested the temperature and lowered her chattering son into the warm water. It was always the same; a busy full day did not make him tired, just more excitable, more buoyant. He babbled on nonsensically, happy in his make-believe world where an empty washing-up liquid bottle passed as a rocket, a rocket that could whoosh to the sky and land on a star.
‘Do you think you might want to be an astronaut when you grow up, Benke?’ Reveka asked her son, knowing perfectly well that he had no idea what an astronaut was. He nodded enthusiastically. ‘Or maybe an engineer?’ He nodded again, compliant. Happy to see his mother smile. ‘You can be anything and everything you want to be, Benke,’ Reveka whispered. The emotion caught in her voice. She believed this, but she also believed that the more often she said it, the truer it was. ‘This is why we are here, Benke. For the education. For the chances. You can be anything and everything.’
And for the first time in a long time, it seemed possible that this was true. Now the flat was usually warm. Thank God the landlord had finally had the boiler fixed. For the first two years of Benke’s life, the only heating they’d had was from one small electric fire which they moved from room to room, depending where the baby was sleeping. It was expensive to heat a flat, even one this compact, with an electric fire. Every time the orange bars glowed Reveka was torn, partially relieved that the icy air would thaw, mostly anxious about the money they were burning. More often she would put on another layer, another jumper, a second pair of tights under her trousers. During last winter the baby wore so many layers he looked like a little boiled egg! She put the fire on when they were all at home; when it was just her and the baby, she tried to save money by walking the streets to keep warm. She pushed the stroller from shop to shop, where she would wander round with no intention of buying until a security guard started