Grace stepped from the plane and took a deep breath, wishing she had her own Pito beside her, guiding her. Still, it was a good feeling to be familiar with the bustle of passengers on arrival at Denpasar and know her path would be smoothed as much as possible, thanks to the influence and connections of MGI.

Mr Angiman’s assistant, Sutini, met her at the airport this time, ‘In case there are any problems with your KITAS,’ she said with a smile. But all went smoothly, and they were soon driving towards Grace’s accommodation.

‘I think you’ll find Villa Ramadewa very comfortable,’ Sutini said. ‘The Carrefour supermarket has everything. And the local fresh market close by is excellent. Or you can use the Recreational Club.’ She smiled. ‘The expatriates seem to have everything they need.’

‘They certainly do,’ said Grace.

The villa was an enclosed world of its own, with a luxurious pool surrounded by open-sided pavilions for dining and relaxing. The indoor sitting, lounging and entertaining areas opened onto the pool and garden or could be closed off in the rainy season if needed; the bedrooms upstairs each had a verandah overlooking the grounds but were discreetly private. It was beautifully furnished in the up-market ‘modern Balinese’ style that Grace knew could be found in most tropical five-star-plus locations throughout Asia.

Sinking into a rattan chair and stretching out her legs, sipping an exotic drink with fruit and flowers in it that the chef had whipped up, and looking at a frangipani flower that had fallen onto the emerald grass, disturbing the perfection, Grace sighed. As over-the-top as this all was, she appreciated it.

But guilt struck within minutes. All this indulgence, all this space. She missed Daisy. What was all this for, if not for her? ‘Sheesh, I’m not on holidays,’ Grace said with a sigh, and picked up her phone and called Steve.

‘I’m here, you settled in okay?’ she asked.

‘You might say that.’ He chuckled. ‘Not bad digs. So when are we meeting?’

‘How about this afternoon? I’d like to bounce some ideas off you. Shall we meet at the Kamasan by the front entrance?’

*

Steve strolled towards her looking relaxed in board shorts, a T-shirt and yellow tennis shoes, his sunglasses pushed up on his head. He carried a camera and gave her a grin. ‘Do I look like a tourist?’

‘Are you going undercover or something?’ she said with a laugh.

‘Taking stills is easier than making notes, and a better reference. Besides, I enjoy using a proper camera. Good to see you. Thanks for including me in this adventure.’

‘What can I say? You’re the best for the job. Have you met Johnny or any of the others yet? We’ve been invited for drinks at one of the beach bars for the sunset ritual.’

‘Johnny introduced himself when we arrived. Haven’t had the pleasure of dealing with the management fellas; I’d prefer to leave that to you. But I caught up with Andy. Who else is going to be talent?’