‘No, Tim. She’s a mess, it’s true, but she isn’t calculating like that. Look at her background, for God’s sake. What would we be like if we’d grown up in her circumstances?’

‘You’re too generous, Sarah. Too forgiving. Camilla’s bad news. Maybe she can’t help it but she’s just like her mother, spreading unhappiness wherever she goes. Piet was a clown to fall for her in the first place. But he didn’t deserve that. You should be careful or she’ll grind you up too, and dump your ashes somewhere. And then she’ll be full of regret all over again, after the damage is done. You don’t need a so-called sister like that.’

How naive they had all been when they made their childish pact. Now they were far apart, divided by family circumstances and problems that seemed to dog all attempts to preserve their friendship. It had seemed so natural, so right, to have promised one another undying and unconditional love and loyalty. Sarah stepped out of the bath, rubbing the towel roughly over her pale skin, hating the pasty milk-bottle colour of it. She sat down at her small desk and filled in the entry forms for the competition, meticulously labelling the backs of the photographs before sliding them into a cardboard envelope. When she walked into the living room Tim was slumped on the sofa, looking at her with bloodshot eyes.

‘I tried to wait up for you, but you’re very late and I fell asleep. I didn’t want to miss you.’ He stared down at the worn carpet. ‘There’s some news from home. Mum rang while you were out.’

‘Is everything all right?’ Sarah felt a jolt of apprehension. Betty only called on birthdays and special occasions, or if there was something wrong. Tim did not answer immediately and she became aware of the gas fire, hissing a warning through the long silence.

‘It is now. Or she thinks so, anyway,’ Tim said. ‘But they’ve had a bad scare. Dad had another serious bout of malaria. He was very sick, not responding to any drugs at all, and they thought – well, they thought it was all over. Mum was on the verge of phoning us two days ago, and arranging for us to fly out. In desperation they gave him huge doses of old-fashioned quinine, and he’s come through. But he’s been ordered to take some sick leave.’

‘Can I phone now, and talk to them? See how things are?’ Sarah sat down, trembling with shock.