‘No worries,’ drawled Joe. ‘They’re ten a penny and probably won’t be missed. Can I get you ladies a pot of tea or something stronger?’

‘I think we’d better go upstairs to wash and change,’ said Jane. ‘But thank you anyway. Will we see you later?’

He shook his head. ‘I’m not staying here. I only came to tell everyone that we’ll be flying out tomorrow morning, eight sharp. The last of the storms have shot through and the forecast is good.’

‘Oh, that is a relief,’ sighed Sarah. ‘Our poor mother must be wondering what’s happened to us.’

They shook his hand again and hurried up to their room to discover that the mud the boys had thrown had stained their clothes, the sleeve of Jane’s blouse had been torn, and that they looked as if they’d been dragged through a water-mill.

Stripping off, they rang down for hot water and a very large pot of tea, then slumped down onto one of the beds wrapped in dressing gowns. The reaction set in and both started to tremble at the thought of what might have happened if Joe hadn’t stepped in. Linking hands, they huddled together, profoundly thankful that they would be leaving India in the morning.

Singapore

Sybil had now been in Singapore for almost a week and was getting very bored and on edge. She had become used to the long, dry days of summer heat in Australia, as well as the steady downpours during ‘the wet’, but she’d forgotten how much it rained in Singapore with its two seasons of monsoon and ninety per cent humidity. She stood at the window of Elsa’s bungalow dabbing the perspiration from her brow and watched the downpour that filled the storm drains and sent the water rushing downhill. Would it never cease?

Turning from the window, she wandered aimlessly through the bungalow, wishing she had something useful to do. Elsa was all hustle and bustle and clearly in her element now she was involved with RAPWI, but Sybil just couldn’t dredge up the energy to do anything. Raffles wasn’t the same, all the people she’d known had been scattered to the four corners of the world, and there were no decent shops. As for the sights and sounds of the hospital, the clinics and those awful respite camps for the returned prisoners, she could no more go there again than fly to the moon. She was stuck here, with no one to talk to and no servants to do the housework or organise the evening meals and food shopping.

Elsa had told her where to go for the best produce, but everything had changed so much, she’d lost her way in the labyrinth of the back streets, and fled back to the bungalow empty-handed and in panic. This had infuriated Elsa and made things very awkward between them, to the point where Sybil wished she could find somewhere else to live. But there was nowhere to go except the house in the rubber plantation – and that was a day’s drive away which would make her more isolated than ever.