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hunt her. Three years after she’d started roaming, she eventually reached East London. On her journey, she’d crossed 122 rivers. Isn’t that amazing?’
    She glanced sideways at David.
    His face had softened slightly, but he said nothing. He just took the last bag of gear out of the car and slammed the boot.
    Looking towards the shoreline, she saw that the boat that had taken the group out for the all-day excursion had now returned to shore. Monique du Preez, the other dive instructor, was strolling towards her room with a bag of equipment slung over her shoulder. Her faded denim shorts showed off her deeply tanned legs and her pale-blonde hair shimmered in the sunlight.
    Velcro for men. That had been Jade’s first impression of Monique. She was Velcro—the side with the hooks, not the loops. On their first night at Scuba Sands, they’d built a campfire down at the beach. Jade had sat quietly on a rock, sipping her wine and watching Monique chat to the group of people, all the while flirting openly with each of the men in turn.
    She had occupied herself pleasantly that evening by guesstimating what Monique’s life expectancy might be, should she try the same trick with David when he arrived?
    ‘Who are they?’ David asked.
    Jade turned her head towards him sharply, but David wasn’t looking in Monique’s direction. He was staring at the couple who were walking up the path behind them and had now caught up. The well-built man with a ponytail and a short, blond beard was digging in his shorts pocket for the key to their chalet. The slim, red-headed woman beside him walked with her head bowed and her back slightly hunched. With her arms crossed over her chest and her large, dark sunglasses, this was clearly a woman trying to hide from the world.
    ‘They’re our next-door neighbours,’ she said. ‘Craig and Elsabe. That’s Craig’s Land Rover parked over there.’
    David nodded glumly, as if Jade’s answer had somehow disappointed him.
    Jade walked over to the chalet entrance, which had a doormat with a picture of a smiling hippo on it. Craig was busy unlocking the door of the neighbouring chalet, the old-fashioned key rattling in the lock. Elsabe stood behind him, arms still folded. She was looking at Jade, but made no attempt to acknowledge her, and her actions reinforced Jade’s initial impression of her as being somebody who she instinctively disliked, and who disliked her in turn, with no real reason being necessary.
    Craig didn’t look in Jade’s direction at all. He just opened the door and stood aside for Elsabe to go through, before following her in and locking it behind him.
    Nothing like having a good relationship with the neighbours. It was just like being back in Johannesburg, Jade decided. Home sweet home.
    She’d actually exchanged a few words with Craig on the night of the campfire. He’d walked over to her after he’d unhooked himself from Monique’s clutches. Elsabe hadn’t joined him. Instead, the petite woman had sat near Monique, glancing over at Jade from time to time with an expression on her face that suggested she could smell something unpleasant.
    Jade wasn’t good at small talk at the best of times, especially with strangers. Their conversation had been short and punctuated by a number of silences.
    She remembered that he’d referred to Elsabe as ‘my friend’. She’d wondered what that had implied. And she’d sensed something about him; something that she couldn’t quite put her finger on, but had nonetheless given her an uneasy twinge in the pit of her stomach. She was relieved when he’d said goodbye, turned away, and walked towards the sea. The last she had seen of him that night had been him striding purposefully along the beach on his own.
    Inside, the chalet was pleasantly cool thanks to the small air-conditioning unit chugging valiantly away under the lounge window. David put his bag down next to the coffee table and lowered his six-foot-five frame down onto