conscious of the state in which she and Ben left the cabin. She picked up her key. She was sure she had deadlocked the door when she came in, so how had Junta got inside? She must have been mistaken.
She headed to the internet cafe to check her emails. On the way, she heard lilting violin music coming from the library. She stopped and listened to what sounded like a CD. Halfway through the piece, a woman screamed ‘Stop!’. The room fell silent.
Anya stepped inside the doorway.
A young teenage girl stood, eyes downcast.
‘You will fail if you do not pay attention to the fingering. That was careless. Sloppy! Do it again!’
Anya could barely believe what the older Chinese woman was saying to her pupil. Then she recognised the pair. They had entered the lift with the ship’s doctor. They were members of Lilly’s family. The older woman turned around and stopped when she saw Anya.
‘This is a private rehearsal,’ she said in a husky tone. ‘Please leave us.’
Anya regretted interrupting. ‘I don’t mean to disturb. There was shouting—’
‘My daughter Jasmine. She has much work to do.’ Puffy tissue encased the mother’s brown eyes. The woman tugged on a silk neck scarf, turned to her daughter and sighed. ‘I suppose it is time for a break. Bad practice is worse than no practice.’ After collecting a canvas bag and stuffing it with folders of sheet music, she added, ‘Lilly would have wanted you to practise. But not like this.’
Jasmine stood motionless until her mother had gone. After that, she folded herself into a chair, violin and bow still in her hands.
Anya stepped closer, trying to process what had just happened. Lilly’s family had known of her death for less than a few hours yet her mother was forcing another child to practise the violin. It didn’t make sense. Grief affected everyone differently, but this was an extreme response, with or without denial.
‘Are you all right?’
The girl looked up, through a mane of black hair. ‘Things are never going to be all right again.’
Part of Anya wanted to tell Jasmine she should be with her family, another thought she was better away from her mother for the moment. Anya knew that nothing anyone could say would ease the pain they were all feeling.
‘I heard you playing. You have a real gift.’ Anya pointed to another lounge chair. ‘May I?’
The teenager stayed motionless, almost catatonic. Anya dragged the chair a few feet closer and sat.
‘I’m so sorry about Lilly.’ The words sounded empty, despite her sincerity.
The girl had a puzzled expression. ‘Does everyone on the ship—’
‘No. I’m a doctor and I happened to be there. I promise you, we did everything possible.’
‘I saw you outside the medical centre. We had just been told. My mother, she had to . . .’
Anya gently nodded. The words didn’t need to be said. Identifying the body of a child was something no parent should ever have to do.
The girl sat forward. ‘Please don’t judge her by what you just saw. She’s trying to do what’s right.’
‘It may not be the right time to practise, if your heart isn’t in it.’
‘I insisted we come back here. Lilly and I found this place not long after coming on board, and thought it would be a great place to rehearse.’ She gazed around. ‘Lilly loves books. She reads everything.’
It was easy to see why the library was appealing. A gold spiral staircase in the centre led to another gallery. There had to be two storeys of bookshelves with only a few empty spaces. The only spare piece of wall was covered with a large painted portrait of the ruddy-faced man Anya had read about, Sven Anderson.
Jasmine stood, placed the violin on the chair and moved to one set of shelves. Stretching, she reached up and pulled down a paperback with a tattered spine.
‘She put this here yesterday.’
Anya rose and moved closer. To Kill A Mockingbird . It had been one of her own favourites, one she returned to every few