Whatever the truth, Evie was completely out of her depth. She had never known anyone behave in the odd ways the Leightons and Douglas did. Perhaps it was the pressure of living for so long far away from one’s roots? Even her own mother, when she had committed adultery, had waited until her husband’s death before running off with her lover. But that wasn’t strictly true, was it? Evie had to acknowledge that it could well have been her mother’s intention to leave that had triggered her father’s crime and subsequent suicide.

So here she was, caught between an uncommunicative and often cold husband, and a man to whom she was strongly attracted but who had made it clear he would never act upon it. As the thought formed, she felt a frisson of guilt – surely she would never act on it either? But the memory of that embrace in the sea wouldn’t leave her, and her thoughts kept returning to it and reliving it. Yet Arthur had betrayed her by telling Veronica. Somehow she couldn’t believe that to be the case. Veronica had to be lying. Surely? Was the woman playing mind games with her?

Even though Veronica’s words, if they were true, were evidence of Arthur’s perfidy, Evie couldn’t – wouldn’t – believe it. Just thinking about him made her breath shorten, her skin tingle and her heart race. A shiver of pleasure ran through her whole body from merely being in the same room as him. It was as if there was an unbreakable thread running between them, anchoring her, tethering her to him so that she couldn’t break away – didn’t want to. The mere thought of being close to him, across the same table filled her with a crazy joy. Crazy because there was no logic to it at all. Joy because her whole being sang. She and Arthur were meant to be together. Deep inside she felt an unshakeable certainty about that. But it was pointless. Futile. What cruel fate had determined they should be married to other people?

Over the weeks that followed, Evie went out of her way to avoid seeing the Leightons whenever possible and ensured she was never alone with Arthur. On the rare occasions when they did meet, his manner towards her was courteous but distant – yet often when she looked up suddenly, she caught him watching her, only for him to look away again immediately. Meanwhile her relationship with Doug continued in its odd seesawing fashion. Most of the time he was away at the estate and on the weekends when he was in George Town he was frequently involved in what he continued to maintain were pointless exercises with the Volunteers. Conversation between them was limited and driven entirely by Evie. But he continued to come to her bed. There, communication didn’t involve words. Evie was grateful it didn’t.

As the days and weeks after the declaration of war turned into months, the initial shock experienced by the expatriate Europeans that their countries were at war with Germany, turned into a atmosphere of ‘business as usual’. In fact, it seemed rather than that, it was ‘business is booming’, as the Straits Settlements enjoyed an unprecedented surge in demand for rubber, tin, iron ore and other minerals. The only cloud in the life of many of the expatriates was the shock of the sinking, in late November, of the former P&O liner, Rawalpindi, which had been well known to the numerous old India hands. The loss of the ship off Iceland, while on convoy escort duty, had brought the realities of the war closer.