He shrugged good-naturedly. ‘Put the Bay View out of your head, Madam. Hikkadoa is not for a lovely lady like yourself. You must see the real Sri Lanka: the turtles on the beaches, the magnificent countryside and our Buddhist temples. Now they are a thing to see! Kandy is a wonderful city, and you know, they say the most beautiful women come from there. And Sigiriya, the rock temple is astounding, you would enjoy that very much . . .’

Donna let the man talk, strangely warmed by his voice and the singsong inflections in it. She felt a need to listen to him talk of beauty and gentleness, the side of the country she had enjoyed before coming to Hikkadoa.

Yet in a small part of her brain, Donna acknowledged that she had already suspected what she was going to find. She just hadn’t prepared herself for the full horror of it.

Where Stephen was, filth reigned supreme. She had known that all along, too. The only thing she had to find out now was whether Georgio was involved, and if so how deeply.

Because her name was on so many documents already, she had a sinking feeling in her guts that along with the house, the building businesses, the car lot, the peep shows and other interests, she was about to find herself the part-owner of a brothel. Not any old brothel either, but one that dealt in children.

Closing her eyes tightly to stem the tears of frustration and heartbreak, she prayed.

She prayed harder than she had when she had lost the boy. Because now she was praying not only for herself and her dead son, but for nameless children and their brothers and sisters after them.

Donald Lewis grinned at Georgio as they played chess.

‘You’re very good at this, Georgio. But then you would be, wouldn’t you? You are far more intelligent than you make out. It’s a good scam but one I saw through from day one.’

Lewis moved his bishop and sat back happily knowing he had Georgio in the next two moves. He had not, however, taken proper account of Georgio’s rook, and as his bishop disappeared off the table Lewis’s face set accordingly. Most people who played with him blatantly allowed him to win, with a great deal of old flannel about how clever he was. His eyes hardened to pieces of grey flint and Georgio smirked.

‘Get out of that one without moving then!’

Lewis picked up his king and threw it on to the board.

Like a child, Lewis found it difficult to lose at anything. He was a man with a competitive nature that made him want to win, either by superiority or by cheating.

‘Fuck you, Brunos, you Greek ponce.’

Georgio sniggered. ‘You just can’t lose, can you, Donald? ’ This was said seriously.

He stared at Georgio with a hard expression in his eyes. ‘No, I can’t. I hate losers, Georgio.’