He pulled me into a one-armed hug as the crowd applauded. I felt my cheeks burn. Tears stung my eyes. Now I knew how Anneke had felt when Marieke praised her so enthusiastically. I let Bram embrace me for another moment, then excused myself and climbed off the platform to rejoin Nico. The crowd dispersed, breaking apart to study the reproductions of Catharina’s paintings and take their turns examining the silk dress in its glass case. Flora stood in front of the dress for so long, weeping, that Cristof and Olivia had to lead her away into a quiet corner so she could compose herself. On the back of the catalogue, I had included a sketch of the orphanage I’d found in the archives that Agneta must have made at some stage when she was designing the improvements to the orphanage. The building had stood proudly, a testament to her resilience and determination.

I walked back over to Marieke who was talking animatedly to Gerrit and his assistant, Marta.

‘What are your plans, Doctor Baaker?’ Marta said, as I interrupted the trio to hand Marieke a fresh glass of wine. ‘Will you be taking the long flight back tomorrow?’

‘I’m thinking of staying here a while, actually. I’ve finished writing my book. The manuscript is currently sitting with a publisher at Sydney University Press. I’m waiting to hear back. In the meantime, Rob tells me the Noord-Holland government is searching for a museum director for a beachcomber’s museum on Texel. They want to fund it properly so that anything the divers find can be processed quickly and the less valuable items can be displayed in a way that honours their history. They’ve offered me an interview next week. The position comes with an extended visa sponsorship.’

‘I think it’s a wonderful idea,’ said Marieke, squeezing my arm. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes bright as if she’d drunk one too many glasses of wine but when she hugged me, her grip was firm and steady and I knew she was releasing me.

At the end of the night, as people were beginning to clear out, I spied a man I’d never seen before standing in front of Anna’s dress. He was staring up at it, his gaze drinking in the fabric. His face was animated, an array of emotions sweeping across his features.

When I greeted him, he looked startled; he’d been a million miles away.

‘You must be Doctor Baaker.’ He was tall, thin and his choice of clothes was unusual: an old-fashioned cravat over a velvet suit. We must have looked a pair, like something out of an antiquated painting. ‘Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Johann de Witte.’

I almost dropped my glass, but managed to recover myself in time. ‘Mr de Witte,’ I said. ‘I didn’t think you were coming.’