Back in Doug’s room, Evie and Arthur drowsed, drifting in and out of half-sleep, unable to settle, unwilling to leave, sentinels either side of Doug’s bed.

At one point during the night, she awoke to see Doug had opened his eyes and was looking at her. She bent forward and took his hand. ‘I love you, darling,’ she whispered. Unable to reply, an oxygen mask clamped over his face, his mouth quivered into an approximation of a smile and his eyes sent back a silent message of love and sadness. He closed his eyes and there was no sound other than the slow rasp of his breathing.

She looked up to see if Arthur was awake, but he was dozing in his chair. She turned her gaze back to her husband. His face was grey, lined, haggard, the toll of the past days etched there. He was unrecognisable, helpless. She had already lost him. The man lying here was a shell, the remnants of what Doug Barrington had once been. A silent tear rolled down her cheek.

The hours passed. A nurse came in from time to time to monitor his vital signs, and night turned into early morning. Around the edges of the ill-fitting hospital curtains the pitch dark was softening into a grey dawn. In the distance she could hear voices, footsteps and the clatter of metal. The world was waking up. She yawned.

Something else had changed. She sat bolt upright and saw Arthur do the same. They exchanged a wordless look that indicated they both knew Doug was no longer there. No death rattle. No last gasp. Just a soft fading away. Arthur got up and went to fetch the nurse who confirmed Douglas Barrington was gone and offered her sympathies. Evie bent over her husband’s body, stroked the stray lock of hair back from his brow and dropped a kiss onto his cold lips.

It had happened so quickly. The previous morning, she had arrived at the hospital determined to convince Douglas of the need for amputation, and here she was, just a short time later, looking at the empty shell of his broken body.

She was a widow with an infant son and a little girl who had now become an orphan. How had it come to this?

Arthur Leighton took care of everything. He informed everyone who needed to know of Doug’s death, arranged the funeral, ensured the bank would release funds for wages to be paid at Batu Lembah, asked Mike Overton to act as estate manager until Evie could make a decision on the future of the estates. He even collected Badger from Batu Lembah and transported him into Reggie Hyde-Underwood’s care at Bellavista. Evie was particularly relieved about this last matter. Badger would have been a constant reminder of his master’s absence.

Veronica did not attend the funeral, presumably because of her treatment. Evie was grateful that she didn’t have to contend with her.

Afterwards, there was a small gathering back at the house. Evie could barely take in what was happening, sitting listlessly as a stream of people offered their condolences. She had cause to be grateful to Mary. Her friend ensured that Evie’s guests were all watered and fed and moved among them, acting as the hostess that Evie lacked the strength to be.