Evie felt nauseous but it had nothing to do with the baby. She had so far experienced none of the morning sickness that the doctor had warned might blight the early weeks of her pregnancy. She prayed for the drive to be over and longed to be alone.

During the twenty-minute ferry crossing, Mary spoke to her at last. ‘Evie, I want to remind you that you can always count on me. I know you won’t feel like talking at the moment, but when you do, I will be waiting. I can’t make it any better, but at least I understand how you must be feeling.’ She drew her lips into a tight, rueful line and pulled Evie into her arms and gave her a hug. ‘And if you want me to take Jasmine off your hands while you talk to your husband, just tell me. Since Penny lives next door to me they can play together and I can give them both their tea.’

‘Thank you. But I don’t want to talk to him ever again.’ Evie’s voice was a whisper. She gripped Mary’s arm. ‘Does everyone in George Town know? Have they all been laughing at me behind my back?’

’No. I’m certain they don’t know. George Town’s like a village. I’d have heard if there were rumours flying round. And, as you will have gathered this afternoon, Rowena Cameron, Penny’s mum, is one of the biggest gossips on the island. I’ve not heard a squeak.’

Two days later, Evie woke in the middle of the night, needing to go to the lavatory. To her horror she found she had lost some blood.

Panic gripped her. Was she losing the baby?

Staggering to the staircase she went downstairs, through the house, into the garden and hammered on the door of the single-storey building where Aunty Mimi and the other servants slept.

Benny appeared at one of the far windows, then Cookie opened the door. Aunty Mimi, her hair down, stood behind him.

‘Aunty Mimi, please come. The baby...’ She clutched her stomach.

Saying something rapidly in Chinese to Cookie, Aunty Mimi left the lodge and followed Evie back across the lawn and into the house. After questioning Evie, she led her back to bed and told her she would bring tea as soon as she’d summoned the doctor.

Evie sipped the tea, fear and anxiety weighing heavy upon her. She had already lost her husband and now it seemed fate was about to steal her unborn child. More than ever now she was desperate to have this baby.

By the time the doctor arrived, Evie was in tears, convinced she was miscarrying – although there had been no further bleeding.

It was a duty doctor, a younger man, who examined her, told her the baby’s heartbeat was good and that minor bleeding did not always mean a miscarriage. Telling her to take it easy and come into the surgery to see Dr Oates as soon as she felt well enough, he said, ‘He’ll want to keep an eye on you, but I’m sure it’s nothing you should be worried about, Mrs Barrington.’