‘I guess so.’ She sighed and changed the subject. ‘Did you see Andy cosying up to Rosie? She’s younger than me, and much younger than him – maybe thirty?’

‘C’mon, Grace! Andy is a red-blooded Aussie bloke. He’s fit. Still a good surfer. Successful and fun,’ Steve said, chuckling. ‘I’m not surprised Rosie would be keen on him, just as he is clearly keen on her.’

Grace shook her head. ‘Yes, you’re right. Today has been too much to take in, that’s all. There seem to be surprises at every turn. I’m exhausted.’

Steve looked at her then dropped his arm around her shoulders. At first Grace stiffened, wondering what was happening, but then she realised she liked the feeling, and made a conscious effort to relax.

‘Let it all go for now, Grace,’ he said. ‘Think about Daisy and your mum. What have you got planned for them the next few days?’

‘Well, Daisy doesn’t start school until next week. And after Johnny’s directive it seems we’d better visit the chef’s family compound, if he accepts the offer. I may as well invite Mum and bring Daisy along too,’ Grace said, turning to look at him, ‘if that’s okay with you.’

‘Of course.’ Steve smiled, then added, ‘Here’s your driver. Goodnight, Grace. I’ll text you about it first thing tomorrow.’

*

It was close to midnight, but Grace’s mind was in overdrive and there was no way she could get to sleep. After tossing off the sheets and sighing, she pulled out K’tut’s book. She’d reached a chapter where the war in the Pacific had started and Grace was reminded that whatever was going on in her own life was calm in comparison with what K’tut went through.

Surabaya we found in a state of chaos. Roads leading out of the city and the trains we could see from the highway were jammed with Dutch soldiers. They were, we quickly learned, trying to reach military headquarters at Bandung, on the other end of Java. Panic-stricken Javanese were fleeing by the thousands to the safety of kampongs in the interior.

Agung Nura was concerned, not about himself – the Japanese could have no particular enmity for a Balinese – but for me, as a white woman and an American. My nationality, even more than my color, might mark me for brutal treatment. The prince decided he must go to Solo in West Java to find out if there would be a hiding place for me in the Sultan’s palace.

I remained, comfortable for the moment but insecure, in Surabaya’s leading hotel, the Oranje.