She took stock of her situation, letting her mind run free. She realised that she had only ever seen Douglas with her eyes and not with her mind or her heart. Never managing to get past his dark good looks, hers had been a shallow love – no love at all – based on aesthetic appreciation not true feelings. How could she love someone she couldn’t communicate with? They shared no interests. Had nothing in common. She and Douglas spoke different languages and inhabited different worlds. Perhaps what had happened was a rude awakening, a message that she should give up trying to make their marriage work.

Her feelings were entirely different with Arthur. She was certain that in him she had found – but could never have – her soulmate. No, she mustn’t think about Arthur.

When Evie opened her eyes again there was a diminutive man in grey robes standing in front of her. A monk or priest, she assumed. Mumbling her apologies for intruding in this place of devotion, she was about to leave but he called out to her. His voice was soothing, gentle. He spoke to her in English.

‘No need run away, daughter. Temple of Harmony welcome everyone who show respect. As you have done.’

‘Thank you. I only stepped inside for a few moments but I’m glad I did. It’s so peaceful and calm here. Being here has already made me feel much better.’

He nodded his head slowly. ‘You feel better? Why you feel bad before?’

She looked at his face and saw only kindness in his eyes. But before she could answer, he asked, ‘You want drink some tea?’

Evie nodded.

He led her to a doorway at the side of the shrine. ‘In here quiet place.’

Never thinking to question why she should follow this stranger, she went with him into an ante-room, presumably leading to the monks’ quarters.

They sat on cushions on the floor and the monk poured her tea in a fine bone china cup, delicately patterned with entwined leaves. Evie sipped the hot liquid and felt her new sense of calm grow. Without knowing how or why, she found herself telling the stranger about her fears for her marriage and for her baby.

He looked at her over the top of his cup. ‘Baby is good. Baby safe. Baby inside you, so you must be kind to self. You must first love self to love baby.’

‘Myself? You think I need to be kind to myself?’ She looked at him in surprise. ‘What a funny thing to say.’

‘Not funny. Everything begin with self. Only when you love self can you make room in heart for love this baby and for love husband. You first be kind to self. Not angry.’

‘And you think I’m not kind to myself? You think I’m angry?’

‘Are you? You tell me, daughter.’

Evie thought for a moment. It was such an odd thing to say. The very idea of loving herself seemed peculiar. Vain. Unworthy. ‘In my religion we are taught to love God and love others. Not ourselves.’