She was interrupted by the British-Asian correspondent, shouting from the other side of the room, ‘Comfort, call Tito and tell him to get his arse over here in half an hour. Tell him we’ll probably stay over. And tell Daniel to pack all the gear into the Kombi and follow us. I’ll go with Tito and let Daniel know exactly where we’re going to end up.’

‘Tito is meant to be off from tomorrow,’ offered Comfort, clearly knowing full well what the reply was going to be.

‘Oh, for Christ’s sake, he can have his bloody days off when we get back. It’s not like Susie’s working or anything. They can go whenever they like. I’m going to make some calls.’ Her voice trailed off as she went into a partitioned room.

Comfort looked as if she wanted to apologise. ‘It’s always a bit tense when we’re trying to get people on the road,’ she said. ‘Look, that office is free – it’s the one Robert told us to set aside for you. Why don’t you go in there? Grab some of the papers, and you probably want to get online anyway. I’ve written the password on a piece of paper. There’s a coffee machine just off the reception where you came in. I’ll be with you as soon as I can. Any friend of Robert’s is a friend of mine.’

Lindi went into the room and shut the door behind her. She opened her laptop and booted it up. She stared at the screensaver, a photo of the family taken the previous summer on a walking holiday in the Pyrenees. Ralph’s girlfriend, who had recently become the latest in a long line of ex-girlfriends, was in the shot. She logged into her email inbox. There was a long message from Anton. It had been sent at 4 a.m. London time. Typical! He’d probably not slept since getting home from seeing her off at the airport. She started reading the message, which began in characteristically robust vein: Fucking hell, it’s all kicking off.

There was a whole line of exclamation marks, just in case the expletive had not been enough to grab her attention. We might be too late already, it continued. Lindi scanned the email. He’d forwarded a link to a news item. It was headlined, ‘Pangas the Weapon of Choice as South Africans Turn On Foreigners’, a reference to the all-purpose wooden-handled blade that many farm labourers used.