With the rough weather, Nash’s nagging self-doubt returned, and he quizzed Douglas about whether there was to be an advance party – the possibility of flying gear up to the Hoosenbeck so that he might be able to grab a few exploratory dives before the pressure of shooting began.

‘Robbie, all I can tell you is how many cans of tomato soup there are in the galley. Sura is calling the shots and when it comes to information, she’s tighter than a nun.’

‘But, Frank, these kinds of dives usually take months to plan. I have to calculate staging, supplies, recovery periods, risk factors, and I don’t even know who I’m going to be diving with.’ Nash shook his head. ‘To be honest, I’m over the information vacuum. Why can’t they bloody well provide me with some details?’

Douglas massaged his temples. ‘Robbie, this is PNG. Half the bloody population is in a raskol gang, and the less people who know your business the better.’

‘Are you saying I can’t be trusted with the facts?’ Nash could feel heat rising in his cheeks.

‘Well, you did tell Kaboro where we’re headed.’ Douglas smiled to soften the sting. ‘Look, I know you’re stressed. But just try to go with the flow. If you don’t like the look of anything, you just tell them no. I’ll back you up.’

When they came in range of mobile networks near Madang, Nash called Jacquie, who happened to be at their parents’ house. On her second round of chemo, she was coping with the nausea well enough to still be chasing work.

‘Only another few rounds to go,’ she said cheerfully. ‘Then I’ll worry about surgery.’

‘You’re bulletproof,’ he told her. ‘It’s going to be fine.’

‘You sound flat.’ Jacquie always read his moods. ‘What’s up?’

‘I’m fine,’ he lied. ‘Raring to go.’

‘You won’t do anything too risky, will you, Rob? You’re a long way from help up there.’

He was about to give her some stick about it being all her bloody fault if he did, but he sensed she was more fragile than she was letting on.

‘Don’t worry, Jac. Remember, you’re talking to the second biggest control freak in the universe.’ He grinned at her familiar groan. ‘Love you, sis.’

He was going to ring off, but then his father wanted to talk. This was unusual, for Peter was partially deaf and struggled on the phone.

‘Son, a word about Frank,’ Peter said in his quiet voice. ‘He means well, but he can be a bit . . . flaky.’