She closed her eyes. ‘Thank God for Sam,’ she whispered before she fell asleep. A family doctor might just tip the scales.

She wanted to take Saffie home. She wanted to go home to have her baby.

FORTY-TWO

I could see Jack below me with Fleur and Sam. He was showing them the new jetty he had started to build while I’d been away. His yacht was moored at the end with the small motor dinghy we used for going across the water to shop. He was taking them across the bay to show them Paihia and I was grateful because I needed to be on my own.

I was like a cat reclaiming her territory. Autumn was beginning, it was cooler and I was determined to walk the boundaries of our land, despite my size. I was so glad to be home. I closed my eyes, wanting to cry with relief. Happiness settled like sunlight, warming me with its reminder of the simple things here that gave me so much pleasure.

The bay was the palest blue and there was no wind and I watched the figures below me get into the small motorboat. The sound of the engine reached me up here on the hill and I saw three heads turn back to the land, reluctant to leave me.

It had been difficult to persuade them that I would be fine, that they were only ten minutes away by water, and eventually they had understood how important it was for me to have time and stillness alone here. I did not want to hear voices or movement or feel other human beings around me while I chose the exact and perfect place to bury Saffie.

I knew she would guide me; I knew we would choose the place together, so I sat on the hill watching the white wake made by the boat crossing the water, carrying the people who loved and were worried about me.

Singapore Airlines would not have let me fly home with them if Sam had not been with me. Although I had been given a thorough check-up in a hospital in KL and they had judged I was fit enough to fly, especially with a doctor, I was way over the safe period and of course I could not get any insurance cover.

I had to pretend I was not worried about the flight because it was far worse for Fleur and Sam and poor Jack back here waiting.

The local villagers had brought little gifts for us before we left Port Dickson. They had left us alone during our time there and protected us from any intrusion and we were touched by their gentleness and sensitivity.

The Malaysian police in Kuala Lumpur had been wonderful too. They had advised us about the wood for the coffin and made suggestions for how it should be lined. When we had arrived in the city it was all ready. The small coffin had been made beautifully in local wood. It was highly polished and smelt of camphor. There was a small gold plaque: Saffron Alice Montrose 1971-1976 R.I.P. There were wreaths of bougainvillaea, orchids and frangipani from the Malaysian Police Federation.