The girls arrived in a truck of their own, which wasn’t really their own of course, it was a US military transport vehicle. The same one that had transported the piano from The Brown’s just the previous day, and driven by the same lieutenant whose considerable gambling debts Baz was willing to waive if he agreed to sign on as a regular chauffeur. This time around the truck was packed with Edie’s girls, three of them laundresses and another nine Palm Islanders who regularly gathered at Aunty Edie’s place, twelve girls in all, whom the lieutenant would willingly transport back to Townsville at the conclusion of the evening’s entertainment.

Baz had driven out earlier in Val’s car, accompanied by Betty and Jill, having faithfully promised the boss he would guard both with his life if necessary.

‘Well, Jill anyway,’ Val added caustically, doubting Betty would relish being saved from the assignation that awaited her.

The band was already setting up in the barn when they got there. The band was one of Baz’s true ‘coups’, or so he boasted. ‘Just wait’ll you hear them,’ he said to Betty and Jill, and also to Samuel, who’d been waiting to greet them.

A rather motley-looking five-piece group, with drums, piano, double bass, saxophone, clarinet and a male vocalist thrown in, the band played at a lot of the clubs around Townsville.

‘They might not look all that much,’ Baz admitted, ‘but I swear to God you’ll reckon you’re listening to Glenn Miller’s Big Band, they’re that bloody good.’

Interestingly enough, every member of the band, including the vocalist, was white.

The barn where the four of them stood watching the band set up had been miraculously transformed into a dance hall, complete with a mirror ball and strings of fairy lights. Stepping inside, Betty and Jill had been instantly entranced. The effect was spectacular, and bound to become even more so as night descended.

But from the outside, the barn being windowless, the lights would remain barely visible, which had been a great relief to Samuel. The last thing he needed was a visit from the blackout duty inspectors. The same applied to the windowless stables, although the lights there would be dim anyway.

The club itself also observed the blackout laws; this was one area Samuel had determined they should not be called out on. The farmhouse windows now boasted lush curtains, which in a strange way rather complemented the stark stylishness of the place. The living room and dining room had been renovated by the Parslows long ago to form an open-plan design so the area had been large to start with, but all furnishings had been removed to create extra space, leaving only bar stools, the odd table, and of course the small upright piano from The Brown’s, which sat in the corner.

Things got off to an excellent start.