The building itself was wide, built from breeze blocks that were obviously supposed to have been rendered at some time. The windows were devoid of glass, having only mosquito nets covering them.

What really caught her eye was the verandah that surrounded the building. Here white men were sitting, some on rattan chairs and others on the wooden steps, and beside them were children, little girls.

Some looked to be as young as only eight or nine.

The music was getting louder, as if the coming of night had turned up the volume. A foul smell was rife - cooking fat and heavy male sweat vying with each other for supremacy.

As Donna sat in the dusky night, the sound of insects loud in her ears, harsh music and laughter taunting her, she saw a man come out of the big double doors carrying a young boy on his shoulders.

The man was big, heavyset, with a swaggering beer belly and heavy jowls. He was calling something out in German and all the men were laughing at him. But the little boy was neither laughing nor crying. In the lights from the house Donna saw that his small face was set in resignation.

It was this sight that hit her harder than the others. In those few seconds she saw everything with a stunning clarity.

There was no big fancy hotel here, there never had been.

This was a building that had been knocked up to serve a purpose, bringing male tourists together with the children who abounded here.

Raj watched her shocked countenance and felt sorry for her. ‘We should go maybe, eh?’

In her state of shock, Donna only half-heard him.

But she acknowledged that he was right.

There was nothing she could do now. Not while it was dark, while the Bay View was open for business. She had to come here armed with knowledge and also armed with daylight.

‘Take me away from here, Raj. Now.’

He drove off quickly. No one seemed to have noticed them.

‘I told you, Madam, you would not like to stay there. It is very bad place for ladies.’

Donna leant forward in her seat and tapped him on his shoulder. ‘What did the woman say earlier, Raj? What were her exact words?’

He looked at Donna in the mirror.

‘She said it was a brothel, Madam. A brothel for the children.’ He saw Donna’s stunned look. ‘Madam, you are in Hikkadoa. This is what is here. It is not the only one, you know. Sri Lankans come from all over to sell their children. It is a good way of making the money and the people who come here know this.

‘During the day Hikkadoa is a good place, the beaches are nice and clean, the turtles have laid their eggs, and everyone is happy. But in the night, the work begins for the children.’