Grace could hardly speak. Was it the wine, the warm night air tinged with the perfume of frangipanis, or something else . . .? But suddenly she felt a shift, a shadow at her shoulder, a sense of . . . something. She shivered and wrapped her hands around her glass.

‘Are you thinking what I’m thinking?’ she asked.

‘Take it slowly,’ Steve said. ‘Let it unfold. Who knows what he’ll have to say? Maybe leave an offering at the shrine outside your gate.’

He said it lightly but Grace decided she’d talk to Sri in the morning and ask her to make an offering for good luck, and to get benign spirits in her corner. She’d been told the gods and spirits were powerful, and she wanted to do the right thing.

‘I might ask Sri how to get the spirits to deal with pain-in-the-butt husbands.’

‘Good idea.’ Steve laughed and stood up. ‘It’s late. We can talk more before we meet him.’ He tucked the laptop under his arm and picked up the empty bottle and glasses. ‘I’ll put these inside and let myself out.’

‘Thanks, Steve.’ She looked at him and said softly, ‘Thanks for everything today. You were calm when I was about to completely lose it. It was what I needed to deal with everything.’

‘No worries. See you tomorrow,’ he said quickly, then turned and went inside.

Grace suddenly felt weary. On the way to her bedroom she gently opened the door to Daisy’s room and peeped in.

Her daughter’s gentle breathing and curled shape, clutching her bear, reassured her. Grace went to her bedroom where she could hear the murmur of Steve talking to the security guard outside.

Feeling comforted, she fell into bed.

*

Tina was reading the Bali Advertiser with her morning coffee and Daisy was sitting at the laptop, watching a journalist named Jackie Pomeroy who did the morning volcano activity report on Mount Agung, which they could see in the distance. Daisy had become fascinated with the occasional puff of smoke rising from the famous volcano, and she loved the movies and photos that appeared on the daily morning report.

‘All good,’ she declared.

‘Can I have the laptop now?’ Grace said. ‘Have you had breakfast?’

‘Not yet, Kamsi is making me noodle eggs.’ Daisy pushed the laptop over to her mother.

‘Nasi goreng, it’s called. Okay. Thanks, honey.’

Grace skimmed through the list of new emails, pausing when she saw that there was an email from the solicitor, Mr Jamison. Its subject line had the word Skulduggery?

Dear Grace,

I hope your mother is having a lovely visit and young Daisy is settling in to her new surroundings.

Some information has come to hand I felt you should know about, though quite possibly it might not concern you.