‘It is my salvation,’ this stepson of an Anglican minister told Cavalier. ‘Instead of preaching our existence, I do something about it.’

Cavalier joined a ceremony conducted by Geoffreys and then a photo session with happy village children, who received gifts from the tourists.

Amaz strolled along at the rear of the tourist pack with about twenty laughing children aged eight to ten. Cavalier fell back beside her.

‘Did you find your woman last night?’ he asked with a smile.

‘What? Oh, no, we didn’t. What makes you think it was a woman?’

‘Oh, nothing. Except half the people onboard are women.’ He smiled. ‘Why is it that men are blamed for things? I assume there has been a misdemeanour, a theft—an attack even?’

He locked eyes on her and, for a fraction of a second, Amaz seemed startled. Cavalier moved away and began talking to a vivacious New Zealand woman of about fifty. He could see his remark had befuddled Amaz. If he were going to do her harm, would he forewarn her like that?

‘We were sorry to see your wife leave,’ the woman, introducing herself as Vivien, commented.

‘Ex-wife,’ Cavalier corrected, giving nothing away. ‘I’m sorry that our little tiff and the bad behaviour of the drinking cabal has put a dampener on the tour, although it’s still fun.’

‘Colin confronted them about their feral activity and boozing.’

‘Brave man.’

*

When the group returned to the boat, Leni, Castro and Hollos had joined Dubois on the cargo boat 0092 and were drinking and in discussion. Dubois stayed put while Hollos, Leni and Castro along with Amaz moved back onto the tourist craft. Both boats were soon heading further north up the river.

Hollos was necking another beer bottle within minutes. Amaz did not join him this time. She seemed displaced and refused to sit and drink with her companions. Instead she fixed herself a coffee and sat alone at a cubicle for four. She was about three metres from the next occupied cubicle. She still had on her denim jacket. Cavalier caught her eye. She looked away.

The boat trundled on, stopping at villages for more gift-giving and pledges to raise funds for building schoolrooms. The destination village this time provided rooms for the tourists, who were fed and entertained with a Shaman ceremony, where all their wrists were wrapped with white string. The tourists crowded into a meeting room where a local Shaman, a withered 65-year-old with a massive boil on his forehead, conducted the show. He prayed to the Buddha and made incantations before the village’s headman sang a repetitive, unmelodic number.

Cavalier kept an eye on Amaz, who sat cross-legged and pretended to be attentive to the performances. She was distracted by the appearance of Hollos and Leni. Amaz bustled outside and embraced them. Cavalier felt that the hugging and kissing of Hollos now, and Farquar earlier on, was confirmation of them being more intimate.