‘You do all that yourself?’

He laughed. Genuine laughter. No note of irritation this time. ‘There are thousands of trees, so no, I don’t harvest them all myself. I employ hundreds of coolies to do that.’

‘So what do you do? Just watch them?’

His tone was sarcastic more than annoyed. ‘Yes, sometimes I just watch them working. Make sure they’re doing it right.’

‘You’re laughing at me,’ she said.

‘I do a lot of other things too.’

‘Like what?’

He gave a long sigh, which Evie took to signify resignation, and said, ‘It’s like the army. I inspect the troops, issue orders, ensure they have the right kit to get the job done, that morale is high, that discipline is maintained, that they’re rewarded or punished as appropriate.’

‘Were you in the war? I never asked you.’

‘Yes. One of the lucky ones.’

She was about to ask him to elaborate, when he went on. ‘Of course I have assistants to do most of the day-to-day management. Like the armed forces, there’s a hierarchy. Clear responsibilities. It’s not just growing and harvesting - it’s also building roads and bridges, filling in disused tin mine shafts – the country’s full of them – and clearing the jungle.’

‘Gosh. I’d no idea so much was involved. I didn’t think there’d be a lot to do since they’re just trees. I thought it would have been quite easy. Well easier than crops that you grow every year.’

‘Easy?’ He sniffed.

‘I thought you just left them to grow and then cut them down to get the rubber out.’

He gave a snort of derision. ‘Didn’t you learn anything at school? Rubber’s not like timber. We don’t cut the trees down; we tap them.’ Evie shifted slightly to edge closer to him. Above them she could make out the dark shape of the motionless ceiling fan.

‘When I first came out east, I intended to sell the plantations to one of the big rubber companies, return to England and live on the proceeds. That was what I told my wife. That was why she never forgave me when I didn’t.’

‘Why did you change your mind?’

She could see the whites of his eyes, pale ghosts in the dark of the room.

‘The Depression knocked the bottom out of the rubber market. Prices collapsed. Costs rose. It was like being sucked into quicksand. I thought I was going to lose everything. I couldn’t have given the land away. But secondly, and more importantly, I’d fallen in love with rubber.’

‘Seriously?’ Evie suppressed the desire to laugh. ‘That sounds a bit odd.’

‘It gets under your skin. Everything about the business.’

Taking advantage of the way they were actually talking at last, Evie suppressed her nervousness and said, ‘I’d love to see the plantation. Will you take me? Show me around.’

She felt him stiffen in the bed beside her. ‘The estate’s not a place for you.’

‘Why ever not?’

‘It’s called work, Evie. I can’t just swan about showing you around as if it were a day out. I’ve far too much to do. Besides, most of the time I’m not even here on the island.’ He thought for a moment. ‘The manager at Bellavista, Reggie Hyde-Underwood, could show you around I suppose. Benny can drive you up there.’