Tim put down his coffee. ‘I sat in the hallway outside her door, hoping she’d come out or someone would go in. No luck. At one stage a waiter came and knocked on her door, carrying a tray with a can of beer on it and a bowl of rice pudding, of all things. She opened the door but kept the chain on and made him hand it to her through the narrow slit. Just a hand came out and grabbed the things. The waiter said they normally just left the tray outside the door. They called her the Hyde Park Howard Hughes, as she never left her room.’

Grace laughed and sat forward, pushing aside her plate. ‘What happened then?’ she asked.

‘I stayed there the whole weekend, but I had to get back to Melbourne so I slipped a note under her door saying I wanted to talk to her about her wonderful book and life,’ Tim said.

‘Did she reply?’

‘She scribbled a note on the bottom that said, “Why? Anyway, no one is interested.” “Yes they are,” I replied. Back came a note with “What sort of questions?”’

‘Not the easiest person to deal with!’ Steve grinned. ‘She was, what, in her seventies?’

‘Eighties. She told me to come back in three weeks. So over the next couple of months I went up and down to Sydney from Melbourne and we sent scribbled notes back and forth under her door. I was a penniless student so it was bloody expensive. But finally, one day she opened the door a crack, left the chain on, and this one eye peered out at me through huge owl-like glasses.’

‘Great opening shot.’ Grace grinned.

‘It took more cajoling and talk but finally she let me in,’ said Tim. ‘The room was a shambles; stuff everywhere. She didn’t let the housekeeping staff in often, it seemed. The floor was covered with papers, books, boxes and bags, with her sitting in the middle, huddled under a blanket in a huge armchair. She was tiny, but fierce.’

‘I can picture it,’ said Grace, shaking her head.

‘It was still a duel, she still didn’t trust me, but by now her ego was piqued. I’d talked to her about her legacy, about what she’d done since the revolution ended and President Sukarno finally won control of the country. She said she had helped write some of his speeches during the revolution and did what she called some “special missions” for him, gun-running and opium smuggling and so on, so she was a favoured guest at the palace. But once Sukarno was ousted by Suharto, things changed and she wanted to get out. She said she’d done a lot in Australia for Indonesia during the revolution in the forties. One of these “special missions” was to Australia, so, although by now she had travelled the world, she thought she’d give Sydney another try.’