‘He’s headed for the tavern,’ she said. ‘I told him this is secret women’s business and he’s not wanted, at least for a few hours.’

‘Won’t he be offended?’ I said.

She laughed. ‘Have you met Cristof? Water off a duck’s back. He’s impervious to offence. That’s why I married him.’

The reception hall was a buzz of activity since the exhibition was due to take place in three days’ time. Builders and removalists carried out their duties with ruthless precision, hammering frames into place, heaving archival boxes onto trolleys and testing the temperature-controlled large glass display case in the centre of the exhibition space that would house the silk dress for the entirety of its stay on Texel. The climate-controlled case, paid out of Eva Van de Berg’s generous donation, reminded me of Snow White’s glass coffin. In a few days, the dress would be sealed inside, protected by invisible layers of nitrogen gas injected into the atmosphere. The nitrogen would prevent further oxidisation of the fabric and also prevent potentially harmful pests infiltrating the exhibit. Special alarm sensors were installed at the base to prevent anyone slipping into the building at night and stealing the dress away. In addition to these protections, Rob Disijk had helpfully provided a security guard, paid for by the Noord-Holland government. The divers and I had arranged a video call to thank him personally for the government’s generosity.

‘No problem,’ he’d said, his blue eyes sparkling. ‘Can’t have anyone running off with our most precious asset, can we?’

He’d agreed with Bram’s suggestion to allow one of the divers to be present at all times during the exhibition to provide information on the discovery of the artefacts. Bram had been training the others up as unofficial tour guides. I spied him as Marieke, Flora and I entered the room. He was standing beside the dress’ display case, in deep discussion with Nico. The two men paused their conversation to wave at me and I smiled back, glad to see the return of their easy companionship. Things had been slightly strained, the push-pull of new and old relationships threatening to drive a wedge between the three of us. But we’d worked it out together over drinks a few nights ago at Texel’s local pub. Bram had needed a little reassurance that the memories we’d created and shared as children were not at risk of being forgotten and cast into the shadows by the warm blaze of my new friendship with Nico and Anneke. And Nico had been able to reassure him that their friendship as divers and peers remained unchanged. The night had ended messily but I was glad we’d broached the subject. It would make things much smoother in the long run and the exhibition had a greater chance of success if there was no tension between the divers and myself.