When she opened them, Errol had baited up two fishing lines. Iris took one and Kate watched as he instructed her how to use it, holding her arms as she cast off. He found a battered, sun-bleached cushion for her to sit on and made sure she had the place on the boat that was in the shade.

Then he turned to Kate, indicated the other line. ‘Would you like to try?’

Actually, she didn’t want to. She wanted to be still, to just be in this place.

He understood, and cast his line alongside Iris’s. Kate could hear them talking in soft tones. Gentle, harmonious. Often, they were just quiet, too.

She leaned over the boat and let her hands fall into the clear water. It was so warm, it surprised her. Then, to her delight, a turtle – at least half a metre long – swam past her and under the boat.

It was gone before she could point it out and she looked up to see Iris lost in her own happiness.

‘I might swim,’ Kate suddenly announced.

‘Go for it, love,’ said Iris.

Kate stripped to her swimsuit and dived into the warm water. She looked down, feeling giddy at its clarity. She could see several metres below her, her feet suspended in a clear blue light. She swam away from the boat, rolling over in the water. An unidentified shoal of silvery fish swam alongside her and then, with a synchronized sharp turn, passed her.

What an incredible place this was. Surely somewhere like this could throw up a pearl. Surfacing, she looked back towards the boat, its yellow paint glistening in the sun. It was within the capability of the man just a few metres away to tell her a name. Just a single name that would allow her to do something good. Do what was right.

Tantalizingly close.

‘Oh my giddy aunt!’ exclaimed Iris and Errol jumped up to help as she had a bite on her line.

Kate swam back as Iris and Errol reeled in the fish. A silver kingfish, its iridescent skin reflecting pinks and blues. It gulped as Iris, eyes agog, held it.

‘Wow,’ said Kate, finding the little ladder Errol had thoughtfully put on the side of the boat for her and climbing up.

‘Lunch?’ said Errol, indicating the fish.

‘Oh, I couldn’t,’ said Iris. ‘I mean, I know I eat them and it’s hypocritical, but can’t we just let him go?’

Errol laughed, and Iris gently let the fish back over the side. They watched as it swam away, undeterred by its brush with death.

‘Now that Iris has given our lunch back to the sea,’ said Errol, with a twinkle, ‘I’d better take you to Elvis’s.’

He lifted the anchor and they headed back to the island.

Lunch was a not-so-lucky fish and salad, beneath a palm-leaf umbrella by the beach. The conversation remained in light, neutral territory and Kate wondered how best to raise the topic of Foxgold without sabotaging her chances – or the afternoon. The decision was made for her, when Iris went to the bathroom.