‘All set?’ her mother asked as she drove down the street away from the beach.

‘Yes, but I just hate all this stuff, Mum. I feel like a criminal. I never thought I’d have a lawyer on retainer. What has my life come to?’

Tina turned and smiled at her. ‘You are going off to Bali, all expenses paid! I hope this job comes through for you. One door closes and it’s Hellooooo, Bali!’

Grace couldn’t help laughing. ‘Well, when you put it that way, I’m actually a bit excited.’

Tina pulled up outside the departures terminal and leaned over to hug Grace. ‘Don’t worry about Daisy. We’ll be fine. Just concentrate on what you have to do.’

‘Thanks, Mum. When I dropped her at school this morning I reminded her that I was going away and she seemed fine. I think as long as she can feed Charlie, she’ll be happy!’ Grace laughed, but her expression quickly changed. ‘I’ll miss her; I’ll miss you both. I’ll call every day and FaceTime with you when Daisy comes home from school.’

Tina nodded. ‘I won’t come in; this parking is crazy.’

Grace climbed out, retrieved her bags and waved through the window. ‘Bye, Mum. Love you both!’ she called as Tina drove away.

*

When she landed in Bali, the blast of sunlight and sudden humidity, the smell of kretek, the clove cigarettes, and the tropical fecundity hit Grace almost physically. A little bus crammed with sweaty passengers took her to the huge arrivals hall, where the endless queues at Customs and Immigration, the buzz of accents and languages, the scrum of the lines of drivers wildly holding up cards with names on them was overwhelming.

As advised by her contact from the hotel, Grace headed to the pre-paid immigration desk where she was assisted quickly. From there she was ushered outside to a waiting van by a man hired to look after the VIP guests.

The young driver greeted her as she stepped into a surprisingly luxurious interior. She reached for the chilled water and scented wet tissues, thinking that she and the seven-star guests were very well looked after. She almost expected to see a bottle of bubbles and a couple of glasses. It seemed that no one else was joining them, so the driver took off.

They drove through congested streets lined with shopping complexes, fancy stores, cafés, bars and entertainment joints. It’s Party Central with bells on, she thought. The traffic snaked around massive fountains with white stone statues that, while dramatic, looked like a mock Italian city square minus the spaciousness. Between the crowded buildings there were glimpses of palm trees and a beach crammed with sunbathers.

The driver slowed as they passed what looked like untamed jungle dropped into the middle of the commercialised chaos. Leaning forward, Grace saw there was order to the wilderness. Two massive palms marked an entrance where large wooden gates slid open as the driver touched the screen on his dash. It was like dropping out of the world through a secret door, like Alice going down the rabbit hole, she thought. But then reality hit her, as a boom gate dropped down in front of them and several uniformed men came forward. They checked the van for bombs, sliding a trolley with a mirror beneath the car, inspecting the motor, opening the boot and moving her luggage around, glancing into where she sat alone but ignoring her. Finally the boom lifted and they were waved on.