She and Douglas began to share a bed again after a couple of months had passed. He was nervous, tentative around her, afraid that making love might harm the baby, even though she reassured him that the doctor said it would be fine. There had been no further blood spotting and the doctor had said, as long as they were careful there was no reason not to continue having sexual relations until about six weeks before the birth. Yet there was no excitement in their lovemaking. If anything, it had returned to the mechanical motions of the early days of their marriage and became less frequent as time went on and her pregnancy advanced. Evie suspected that he found her inflated body and swollen belly unappealing. For her part, his presence in bed was tiresome – the heat was bad enough without his body beside hers making it worse.

By April, Evie was seven months pregnant and feeling increasingly tired, when an invitation arrived from Rowena and Bertie Cameron for the three Barringtons to attend a party at the Penang Club. The occasion was the couple’s tenth wedding anniversary. Remembering what Mary had told her about Bertie’s affair, Rowena’s drinking and the constant fighting, Evie was surprised that they’d decided to mark the occasion.

‘Do we have to go to this, Doug?’ she asked. ‘I barely know them.’

‘Of course, we do,’ he snapped. ‘Bertie Cameron is the tuan of the biggest shipping company in the Straits. I need to stay on the right side of him. It’s good for business.’

That was always Douglas’s retort if she raised an objection to anything. Evie suspected that he used business as an excuse for retiring to his study and avoiding any pressure to converse. Yin and Yang she reminded herself. Respect the differences. Besides, how could she possibly deprive Jasmine of going to the party when Penny was her best friend?

Surely she could put on a brave face, grit her teeth and get through one afternoon there. And it was only the afternoon, with the assumption that people would go on elsewhere in the evening. While the grownups were drinking cocktails and eating canapés, there was to be a tea party for the children, complete with a conjuror. As soon as Douglas mentioned this to Jasmine, the little girl began bouncing up and down on her chair in excitement.

By the time the day of the party arrived, Evie felt like a whale on legs. Walking was akin to waddling, and her confidence – never high when in the vicinity of the club – was at rock bottom. Her pale yellow frock pinched under the arms and flattened her over-large breasts uncomfortably, but she had nothing else she could squeeze into that was suitable for a formal party during the day. Looking at herself in the mirror, she frowned at what she saw. Weren’t women supposed to bloom in pregnancy? She felt like a wilting flower. The primrose yellow of the dress made her appear jaundiced and washed out. A frump. That’s what she looked like. She told herself she didn’t care. Those shallow people could sneer if they wished.