Customs was more like a personal welcome, and a driver, Magic, took them in his air-conditioned taxi to the hotel where they’d be staying the next seven nights. Magic was as gentle and gracious as the pilots, proudly pointing out sights along the way or indicating which direction on the sixteen-mile-long island held which piece of interesting history or the best beaches.

It was another world compared to their lives in south London. Kate stared out the window at the intense blue sky, the palm trees, the odd random goat grazing at the roadside. The scrubland was broken up every now and then by glimpses of the Caribbean Sea, the sunlight bouncing off it. Everything was bathed in a trance-like brightness. She’d been worried that Iris wouldn’t enjoy the flight, but the first-class tickets had ensured they’d had everything they needed for a comfortable journey, and both had slept well in their bed pods.

Kate had used the refund from the Bahamas hotel to book their stay in Anguilla. There had been a small amount of money left over and this was going to fund the daily essentials of their week-long trip. That was all the time she had to get the information she needed before the money ran out.

As they stepped into the hotel reception with its fresh white-washed walls, they were greeted by a lady carrying two cool glasses of iced fruit juice on a carved wooden tray. Colour was everywhere, in the smiling lady’s green dress, on the animal and flora prints on the walls. A man wearing an orange shirt offered them a warm, sweet-smelling, tightly rolled small towel.

‘Oh, look, Kate, he’s giving us a wash cloth!’ exclaimed Iris, in delight. The journey, although comfortable, had still racked up considerable hours and refreshing face cloths were a small joy. They were checked in and then led to their quietly luxurious rooms, with an interlocking door between the two. Soft buttercup walls and honey-coloured floor tiles, with large, plump beds and mango-and-rattan furniture. A balcony led outside and looked directly over the beach with its white, powdery sand and turquoise water. There was also a view of the hotel’s infinity pool.

Kate laughed, goggle-eyed. ‘Isn’t this ridiculously beautiful?’

‘I’ve never seen anything like it in my life,’ said Iris, breathless. ‘It must have cost a fortune,’ she added with a worried note to her voice.

‘It did. But it’s one of the cheaper ones, believe it or not. Anyway,’ added Kate, going back in and testing out the bed, ‘it’s my birthday present, remember?’

Iris unzipped her case. ‘I’ll unpack later, there’s just one thing . . .’ She pulled out a Spanish figurine of a flamenco dancer and placed her on the dresser.

‘You brought Constanza?’ asked Kate.

‘Of course. If I was ever going to get away, and it seems it’s taken you to do it, she was always coming with me.’

The pool was the first stop. Long and oval, it ran parallel to the sea and was flanked by palm trees. No sooner had they found their sunbeds, than an orange-shirted man approached with two glass dishes.