‘What is it?’ I reached out my hand for it, but the Detective Sergeant would not let me have it.

‘Miss Montrose. A few days ago a workman discovered a shallow grave in Port Dickson on the edge of the jungle near where the old government rest houses used to be. It contained…the bones of a small child.’

I took the newspaper gently from Mohktar and I looked down at the page he had been holding. I saw a crime scene. I saw ticker tape and policemen. I saw people in white disposable overalls crouching near a small shallow grave. I saw the headlines that Fleur, turning a page, must have seen.

SMALL BODY FOUND IN SHALLOW GRAVE

THIRTEEN

Fleur had been watching the changing skyline without realising they were nearing Seremban and what had once been familiar territory. She had thought as they neared the coast that she would recognise the contours and shape of the land. She knew that the west coast would be dramatically changed and commercialised; that it would have expanded out of all proportion to her time here twenty-eight years ago, but she could not, somehow, make the leap from the place that still lay in her head.

When the train reached Seremban, Fleur got out and stood on the platform. She shivered with tiredness in the hot morning sun, an English woman without luggage.

It was a tiny station on the edge of town. Taxi drivers lounged by their cars ready to swoop. Fleur felt relieved that she had thought to change her money to Malaysian ringgits in Mentakab. She walked out into the blazing sun and straight into a waiting taxi. As soon as they reached the town she asked to get out. She was stiff with sitting and wanted to walk. She found herself in a dusty road full of small shops where Indian stall holders lolled in doorways calling out to her, their wares spilling out onto the pavement.

As Fleur turned a corner she saw the bus station and a bus with Port Dickson written on the front. She stopped, undecided. She felt thirsty and unwell and realised she could not go on without sleep. She went into a store with a fridge full of cold drinks and bought one. Then she walked on, still ignoring the persistent shopkeepers.

She went into the first small hotel she came to and asked for a room. A Chinese woman eyed her curiously, took a key from behind her and showed her into a spotless room with a shower. It had no view except a high wall with a narrow row of houses behind it, crowded and leaning together like bad teeth. The room would have been claustrophobic for any length of time.

The woman told her she must fill in a form with her name and passport number and Fleur asked if she could sleep first, indicating tiredness by placing both hands against her cheek. The woman nodded and asked her if she wanted tea.