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Mary was occupied at the school each day and Susan, up in her highland eyrie, would soon be occupied herself with a small baby. That same self-confidence had been utterly shattered by the treatment Douglas had meted out to her.

She couldn’t help running over and over what had taken place in that wooden hut amid the rubber trees, torturing herself with the way her husband had slipped from what had appeared to be a consuming passion into a cold distance and undisguised self-disgust. He had made his feelings clear. Evie was just a body to him. A vessel to carry his child. Douglas had no interest in her as a person, as a woman, as a wife. He saw her only as the means to an end.

It was an obsession, this need for a son, eating away at him. Evie felt sick to the pit of her stomach at the thought that the passion and excitement she’d believed she had engendered in him had originated with the swollen belly of Mrs Hyde-Underwood. Even standing here alone in the dark of the garden, her face burned with shame and embarrassment.

Hearing a footstep behind her, she spun round to find Arthur Leighton standing in the shadows, watching her.

‘I’m sorry, Evie. Did I scare you, creeping up on you like that?’

Evie breathed in relief when she saw he was alone. Facing Veronica tonight would have been unbearable.

‘Not at all. I’d fallen into a brown study, lost to the world.’ Evie forced a smile to her face. ‘Let me get you a drink, Arthur. It’s delightful to see you. You’ve saved me from myself.’

‘Feeling melancholic, eh?’ He nodded. ‘And yes, I’d love a drink. Seems you and I are both spouseless this evening. I’ll have a stengah, please.’

They walked into the drawing room and she mixed his whisky and soda, and a gin and bitters for herself. ‘Benny’s off today,’ she said. ‘I hope I’ve got the proportions right.’

He took a sip. ‘Perfect.’

Wandering back out to the lawn, they moved, without comment, to sit on the wooden garden chairs in the half-light from the drawing room.

‘Where is your wife tonight?’ She couldn’t bring herself to say Veronica’s name.

‘Playing bridge. I was over in Butterworth and after a quick supper at the club I thought I’d drop by and see how you were getting along.’

Evie tried to inject some enthusiasm into her voice. ‘I’m beginning to settle in.’

‘Doug not around?’

‘He left this afternoon for Batu Lembah. We went up to Bellavista today so he could show me how a rubber estate works.’

Even in the half-light she could tell Arthur was frowning. ‘He doesn’t plan for you to move to Batu Lembah with him?’

Again she tried to sound cheerful but her voice was hollow. ‘With Jasmine at school here, it’s more practical for us to be in George Town.’

‘I see.’

‘I was very taken with Bellavista though. So much cooler up there.’

‘Maybe you should suggest moving up there. It is his family home after all.’

‘I’m pretty sure the Hyde-Underwoods would never agree to switch to Batu Lembah. Susan Hyde-Underwood lost no time making that clear to me today. I think she finds the humidity a trial. Doug can’t afford to lose her husband and it’s pretty clear that’s what would happen if he was asked to relocate. And apparently there are a lot of challenges at Batu Lembah that Doug wants to tackle himself. Lots of jungle to cut down and re-plant.’

‘Is that what he told you?’

Evie felt herself reddening. ‘Well not in so many words. The main reason is Jasmine.’

‘I see.’

‘Look, Arthur, is there something you’re not telling me?’

‘No! Not at all.’ He spoke quickly. ‘I was just wondering though, why he didn’t leave Jasmine at the convent school in Butterworth as a day-girl. It’s less than twenty miles from Batu Lembah. You could all have been under one roof.’

Evie didn’t know what to say. Why was she feeling the need to defend her husband’s inexplicable behaviour? She took a gulp of gin too quickly and began to cough.

Arthur leaned forward. ’Forgive me, Evie. I shouldn’t be speculating. I’m sure Doug has his reasons – or rather you both do – it’s none of my concern… Only…’

‘Only what?’

His voice was low. ’It’s just that I’ve become very fond of you and I can see you’re unhappy and that pains me.’

‘Unhappy? I can’t imagine why you should say that.’ She tried to sound indignant, but knew she just sounded lost.

Arthur leaned towards her again and this time took her hand. ‘I wish I could help you. I wish…’ He looked at her and she saw something different in his eyes.

She turned away, uncertain where this was leading and suddenly nervous.

Perhaps Arthur was similarly affected, as he dropped her hand, got up, and said, ‘Remember, Evie, I’m always here for you. Any time you’re in trouble I’ll be here. Please, don’t hesitate to call me.’ Then he turned and went inside. On the threshold he looked back to say, ‘Thanks for the scotch. I needed that.’ A few moments later, she heard the front door close behind him.

Swigging down the remains of her gin, she got up, went inside and mixed herself another one. She craved oblivion tonight. A need to wash away the memory of Douglas and herself on the floor of that hut. A need to wipe out the knowledge that he didn’t care a fig for her and she knew he never would.

It was only as she was climbing into bed, her head whirling from the copious amount of gin she had drunk, that Evie thought again of Arthur Leighton and remembered the surprise she had felt when he took her hand. The look in his eyes at that moment had scared her. It had been so intense. If she didn’t know that Arthur was devoted to Veronica and if Douglas hadn’t made her only too aware how unattractive she herself was, she would have sworn that he had looked at her with longing. Pushing

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