Quickly Steve said, ‘This is not in Johnny’s league. It’s the idea of it . . . not the execution . . . that I thought you’d like.’

Grace stared at the oil-colour scene of a deserted beach at sunset. The curve of the beach and the leaning palms were familiar. She looked up at Steve, eyes shining. ‘It’s the Kamasan beach!’

‘Oh good, you recognised it.’

‘This is amazing, and you are wonderful to think of me! Thank you.’

Steve leaned over the table and tapped his finger on the painting. ‘See the signature in the corner? It’s not a famous Balinese artist . . . but –’

‘Oh, that’s incredible!’ Grace gasped. ‘Vannen Manx! I don’t believe it.’ She stared at him. ‘“Manx”, that was K’tut’s nickname here. And “Vannen” . . . that rings a bell from her book. How on earth . . .?’ She stood up and hugged him, then sat down quickly, feeling a little embarrassed. ‘This is by K’tut. This is an omen . . .’ Grace said softly.

‘No. It’s just a simple little painting, done by a woman who’d found her piece of paradise. Like I said, it’s not a famous artist and she was a modest painter, but I thought there was significance enough in it for you to like it.’

Tears sprang to Grace’s eyes. ‘I’m so touched, Steve. It’s very thoughtful.’ She brushed her eyes, thinking of the showy presents Lawrence had given her that were measured by their dollar value. This little oil painting held much more meaning for her. It was such a special, considerate gift. She reached out and squeezed his hand. ‘Thank you.’

He took her hand in his and held it tightly for a moment, then sat back.

Grace smiled. ‘How on earth did you find it? And how did you know who Vannen Manx was?’

‘Long story. The short version is, I asked Andy’s mate who owns the bookshop if he knew of any of K’tut’s paintings, and what had happened to them. He said he knew someone who had met her once and gave me that man’s contact details. The guy’s in his late eighties and told me he was happy to get rid of some things, including this painting, but he wanted it to go to someone who’d appreciate what it meant. I figured that’d be you.’

Seeing that Grace was too choked up to speak, Steve went on. ‘She used aliases, apparently, to confuse people for various reasons. “Manx” was a nickname for her homeland, and she told him “Vannen” was a Nordic name for the Isle of Man, but she could just as easily have invented it.’

‘Steve, I don’t know what to say. I’ve never had a gift that’s so . . . special. Although, maybe it’s up there with some of Daisy’s efforts,’ she said, smiling at him with tears in her eyes.