When she fell asleep he covered her with a blanket, and left his arm under her head. Fleur thought they possibly learnt more about each other on that strange disembodied journey through space than at any future time. However, it wasn’t love; not then. Fergus was too honourable and she loved David.

But David had not made love to her for four months and Fleur was young; she wanted more babies and she had begun to doubt the attraction of her own body. And here, here was someone attractive and funny who thought her unmistakably desirable.

Fleur had been telling herself for months that David had been overworked and strung out before his UK leave. Then she had been ill. Then she told herself it was the excessive humidity that year, and was only to be expected when David had been coping with two jobs while he waited for a replacement. She told herself she was selfish…but she knew that the heat had never been a factor in their lives before.

It would have been wonderful to pretend there wasn’t anyone else, that David was a man who did not have the same sexual appetite. But she could not pretend this, because instinctively she knew it wasn’t true. She watched how he danced, how sensuously he moved, how he touched and charmed and loved and was amused by women.

There was nothing cold and detached about David. He had that effortless charisma and knowledge of his own popularity. How could he not? He had been his parents’ golden boy. Good at almost everything and nice with it.

With the right person, Fleur knew instinctively he would be the most passionate lover. That person was not her, and probably never would be. But she never gave up hoping and the excitement of being with him never faltered. He would run up the stairs, calling, ‘Where is everybody? Fleury? Peapods? I’ve discovered a wonderful place for a picnic. We’ll go this weekend…’

He would hug her and whirl her round. He would gather up the twins and cover them with noisy kisses until they yelled, ‘Stop! Stop, Daddy! Stop! Ugh!’

At night he would fold her in his arms, scoop her to him with a small sigh of contentment.

‘You see,’ she said to Fergus many months later. ‘Everything else was so lovely. I thought I could live with how it was. If I didn’t ask. I really thought I could.’

Fleur, lying under the mosquito net, remembering, jumped violently at the sound of Nikki’s blood-curdling cry.

THIRTY-FOUR

The phone went before DS Mohktar was fully dressed. He expected it to be DI Blythe but it was Mrs Campbell.

‘I’m so sorry to call you so early, Detective Sergeant Mohktar. Nikki’s asking to speak to you. Something’s worrying her but she can’t seem to tell me…’

‘I’ll be right over, Mrs Campbell.’ James Mohktar experienced a surge of excitement. Then he felt Fleur’s hesitation over the line.

‘Is there something else I can help you with?’