Deciding a change of subject was needed urgently, Evie said, ‘I didn’t think you and Arthur would be in Penang so soon.’

‘The darling boy did so much preparatory work on the voyage out that he was in his boss’s good books and was able to get away earlier than expected.’

‘Was it some kind of project?’

Veronica snorted. ‘Good grief. How would I know? Or care?’ She took another sip of gin. ‘I’ve no idea what Arthur does. Government business is all terribly tedious. Anyway, we travelled up on the train yesterday and this morning ran into Dougie on the quayside at Butterworth, heading the other way. He said he was off to fetch the brat home, so I thought I’d scoot over here and find out how you’re getting on and how you feel about it.’

‘Don’t you like Jasmine? Is she really a brat?’

‘All children are brats. Even pretty little things like Jasmine. If it were me I’d leave her with the nuns. Or even better, send her back to England to boarding school. Best thing for her. And for you.’ She pushed a cigarette into a long ivory holder, lit it, drew and exhaled a cloud of smoke that spiralled up towards the dormant ceiling fan. Having taken an initial puff, Veronica let her cigarette burn away, using the holder instead to make extravagant gestures as if she were conducting an orchestra.

‘I’m hoping that Jasmine and I will get along and that she will stay here with us. It must have been very unsettling for the poor child to lose her mother when she was so young.’

‘So you and Dougie haven’t got cold feet and called the whole thing off?’ Veronica leaned forward, her elbows on her knees. She reminded Evie of a beautiful bird of prey, waiting for the moment to strike.

‘Of course we haven’t.’ Evie knew she sounded snappy, but Veronica was clearly baiting her.

‘Well, well. That’s a surprise. I had a bet with Arthur that once you’d spent twenty-four hours here you’d be on the next ship back to England.’

‘You and Arthur had a bet?’

Veronica laughed her tinkling laugh. ‘Well I made the bet. He didn’t actually comment. You know Artie – he’s like the Sphinx. But do tell, Evie. What was it like when you and Dougie met again?’ She gave her a knowing look. ‘Did celestial choirs sing?’

Evie felt herself starting to perspire again, a damp clammy feeling in her armpits and under her breasts. Veronica’s slender body appeared to be immune to the heat. It was anger and embarrassment that was helping to raise Evie’s body temperature. Veronica seemed to know – or sense – that all was less than perfect between her and Douglas. Perhaps he had even confessed to her that he’d mistaken Evie for another guest at his wedding.

She told herself not to be cowed by the woman. ‘Everything went very well.’ She smoothed a crease from her skirt.