Within the pale stone walls the public rooms reflected calm and gracious living, from the celebrated Golden Corridor with its decorative arches to the deep blue velvet and gold inlaid decor of the cocktail lounge; while outside on the manicured lawns, where palm trees swayed beneath a blue sky, guests sipped cocktails at the white tables, each shaded from the sun by its own pagoda-shaped straw umbrella. Flowers bloomed riotously in the well-kept borders and a frangipani tree dropped fragrant white petals on to the paved terrace. Standing at the window of her room, Elise marvelled that such peace and gracious living could survive in a world so torn apart with the horror of war. It was unreal, she thought, a mirage in a desert of violence and death. Even the cannon, mounted on its plinth of stone and pointing out towards the blue water, looked reassuringly peaceful now, a monument to wars long over. Yet not so long ago she had seen at close range not only modern-day weapons but also the devastating effects they could have.
