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her head. ‘My mother is a materialistic woman. Very self-centred. Money is everything to her. Family is nothing.’ She gave Arthur a rueful smile. ‘When Daddy died in disgrace and there was no money left, she married Wingate.’

‘But what about you?’

‘Mummy never had much time for me. We’re very different. A clash of personalities. Since she went to America we’ve barely been in touch. I write occasionally; she sends cards for my birthday and Christmas. ’

Arthur said nothing, but kept his eyes on Evie’s face.

‘In the letter he left for us, Daddy said he’d only wanted to do the best for her. He apologised for bringing shame on the family name and on Mummy and me.’ She sighed. ‘But I’d rather have lived with the shame than have him die. I miss him terribly.’

‘How very sad. He took his own life?’

‘Blew out his brains with a pistol he’d kept from the war.’

‘Good God. That’s dreadful. You didn’t…’

‘No. I didn’t walk in and find his body or anything ghastly like that. He would never have put us through that. When he discovered the police had been called, he did it in his office at the bank.’

Arthur placed his hand for a brief moment on her arm and squeezed it gently. ‘When did all this happen, Evie?’

‘Nine years ago. Mummy went off to join Walter Winchgate a few months later, once the funeral was over and it was clear there was no money in the estate.’

Arthur looked aghast. ‘She just abandoned you? You must have been so young.’

‘Eighteen. She did ask if I wanted to go with her to America, but it was a half-hearted suggestion and she seemed relieved when I said I didn’t. I saw an advertisement for a position as a lady’s companion in Hampshire, applied and got the job.’

‘It must have been lonely.’ His eyes were full of concern.

Evie had told him more than she’d intended. Embarrassed, she turned her head away. More than anything, she hated to be pitied. Tears stung her eyes but she blinked them away and said, smiling, ‘Not at all. It was good to have a solid reliable job. And Mrs Shipley-Thomas wasn’t such a bad old stick.’

‘But friends? Family?’

Evie shrugged. ‘I was kept busy. I do a lot of reading and walking. I was happy enough. There’s some lovely countryside in Hampshire.’ She glanced at him and could see he wasn’t convinced. ‘Enough about me. What about you?’

He shrugged. ‘Not a lot to tell. Veronica and I were married ten years ago. I was working in Africa at the time. We moved to the Straits Settlements soon after. First in Selangor, and for the last seven years in Penang.’

‘You met in Africa?’

‘Yes. Nairobi in Kenya. Veronica grew up there.’ He looked at his watch. ‘It’s time I went. I promised to bring her a cup of mint tea to calm her stomach.’

‘She’s still feeling queasy?’

‘Veronica hates to be at the mercy of anything outside her control.’ He stopped abruptly and nudged his spectacles up his nose, giving Evie the impression he too had said more than he intended.

A couple of days later, Evie was walking back to her cabin after a game of bridge. She wasn’t keen on card playing but Mrs Shipley-Thomas had sometimes coerced her into joining a rubber if she was short of a player, and here on the ship it was a way to kill time.

As she was about to pass the Leightons’ cabin, she realised the door was open and, hearing voices, she slowed down. She hadn’t intended to eavesdrop but once she’d heard a few words, she halted and pressed herself against the wall, unable to move forward or retreat.

‘Honestly, Arthur, you know as well as I do that Dougie is going to bitterly regret sending that drunken letter. It may have seemed hilariously funny at the time but it’s well and truly backfired. The woman’s obviously desperate to get married and was never going to get another offer. He must be reeling from the shock that she accepted.’ She gave a little tinkling laugh. ‘The girl’s so awkward. She can’t move without sending things flying, or tripping over her own feet. Really, darling, you have to agree, Dougie’s made a colossal mistake.’

Without waiting to hear Arthur’s reply, Evie ran back down the corridor, shaking with anger, tears burning her eyes.

From that point onwards, she avoided the Leightons. On such a large ship it wasn’t difficult, provided she remained alert. By the time they were passing through the Red Sea, Veronica had emerged from her self-imposed purdah, seemingly fully recovered, and was often to be seen sipping cocktails in the bar – usually surrounded by men – or reclining gracefully in swimwear in a deck chair to show her long lithe figure to best advantage, but never venturing into the pool.

As for Arthur, Evie knew he usually worked in the ship’s library or the Smoking Room, so took care to avoid those areas. Instead of strolling on the promenade deck where she was bound to bump into him, she took to climbing up and down the companionways to get her daily exercise. The rest of the time she sat in a secluded corner on one of the quiet back decks, or hid out in the Ladies Only salon, where Arthur couldn’t enter and Veronica never would. At dinner, instead of joining her table, Evie took her meals in her cabin.

A heavy misery had swamped her, weighing her down and making her wish she’d never set out on this foolhardy mission. She watched the dawn break as they reached the end of the Red Sea, the ship close to the coast where the bright orange rising sun burned behind the dark outline of rocks. The flaming brilliance faded to pale pinks and purples, beneath what promised later to be a blue cloudless sky. The huge ball of the sun rose up above the horizon, a blazing orb of fire emerging from behind hills. Minutes later, the colour

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