‘It is possible that it might not be my sister in that grave, isn’t it?’

James Mohktar looked down at his hands for a moment. ‘Yes, it is possible,’ he said. ‘And you should bear this in mind, Miss Montrose…Local children also die or go missing…’ He paused. ‘But…’

‘Do you know something?’

He looked at me. ‘I understand from my colleague in Kuala Lumpur that they are sending two men down with files from the Seventies. And they have been in contact with the British police, so…’

‘They must believe it is my sister?’

I was suddenly cold and goose bumps sprang up on my arms as if the shadow that was Saffie, long dead, had reached out to touch me. ‘I’m sure it’s her…’ I met his eyes. ‘I’ve dreamt about finding her since the moment I became pregnant.’

‘All cases of missing children in the Seremban area over the last twenty years will be investigated. I am afraid you cannot take it for granted it is your sister, Miss Montrose,’ Mohktar said quietly.

Jack had come back to the table. ‘I need to be in Port Dickson,’ I said to him urgently. ‘Please let’s drive on. It’s not far. I must find Fleur. I’ve slept all afternoon, I won’t sleep tonight…you know I won’t.’

I felt Jack look over my head at Mohktar. Mohktar leant towards me. ‘Miss Montrose. By the morning I will know more. You will not reach Seremban or Port Dickson before dark. It is much better you stay here and rest and drive on early tomorrow. I can phone you if there is anything you should know or if they have located your mother. I think you should do as the doctor tells you.’

Jack was looking anxious again. I gave in.

‘OK,’ I said to Mohktar. ‘But please promise you will ring if you find out anything, however small?’

He smiled. ‘I promise. Now I will leave you.’

He shook our hands and we watched him drive down the one little dusty road. It felt rather as if our only friend had disappeared.

FIFTEEN

Fleur woke in the small, shuttered room and knew immediately it was late. She could feel the warmth outside, heavy and waiting. The room smelt of electric mosquito repellent. She threw the shutter open and the heat hit her in a wave and shimmered off the rooftops outside. She looked at her watch; it was nearly half past ten. How on earth had she slept so long? Her throat was dry and she picked up the telephone to order coffee then went into the shower.

She felt as if she was someone else. Why had she stopped here? She felt anxious, desperate to be on her way. The Chinese woman knocked on her door and brought her a tray with tea and anaemic-looking scrambled egg and bread. Fleur could not eat it. She filled in her visitor’s form, put her things together quickly, paid her bill and, thanking the small, impassive woman, she left the hotel and made her way to the bus station in a state of urgency.