We had a horse-drawn carriage to take us up the slope to Joss’s business associate. The house was delightful in the Dutch Colonial style, and to step inside those beautifully cool rooms was like walking into a Dutch painting. There were stone steps leading to a terrace and on this was a table with chairs ranged round it.

As we came up the steps Kurt van der Stel and his wife came to greet us. They were clearly very pleased to see Joss, who introduced me as the wife he had recently married in England.

Grete van der Stel was a rosy plump woman, rather severely dressed, and she bustled around serving us with wine, which she explained came from a nearby vineyard, and with cakes which she had made herself.

When Joss told them of Ben’s death they were deeply distressed.

“It’s sad to think we shall never see him again,” said Grete.

“He had never been completely well since his accident, replied Joss.

That is one of the hazards of mining,” Kurt reminded him.

“And one of the reasons why people like you must pay high prices for that which the miners have risked their lives for,” answered Joss.

The van der Stels talked for a long time about Ben, his exuberance, his unpredictability. They agreed that the opal world would not be the same without him.

Then Grete asked me if I would like to see the house and I told her that I should.

How beautiful that house was with that ambience of peace and order which I had experienced before through the intriguing interiors of the Dutch school of painting. Everything was highly polished and treated with loving care.

Grete told me that her family had been in Cape Town for two hundred and fifty years.

“It is beautiful and it is home,” she said.

“Life is full of chance.

Nearly two hundred and fifty years ago, two Dutchmen were shipwrecked here. They were enchanted by the place, as all must be-the climate, the fruit, the flowers and the possibility of making a great colony occurred to them, so they went back to the Dutch East India Company and reported what they had found, and as a result they sent out three ships under the command of Jan van Riebeck. Here they settled and then more Dutch came out to join them and so we built a city, and it has been home to us through the generations. “

I stood at the window and looked out at the sparkling sea with the Mountain-indeed resembling a table-rising proudly out of the waters.

Grete took me into the garden where exquisite shrubs flowered in abundance about the one-storey dwelling where her servants were housed, and then went back to the terrace on which the two men were sitting, before them the rolled-up cases which I had so often seen in Ben’s possession. They were discussing the opals which lay in the cases.

Grete said that luncheon would be served in a few moments so Joss rolled up the cases. As he did so we heard the sound of horses’ hoofs on the road below.

“He’s here,” said Kurt van der Stel.

“I’ll be interested to see him,” said Joss.

“Perhaps he’ll be able to give me some news about what’s going on at the Fancy.”

A man mounted the steps to the terrace and Joss rose and shook hands with him.

“It’s good to see you, David,” he said.

“You too. Joss.” The newcomer shook hands with Kurt and as he did so Joss drew me forward.

“I want you to meet my wife,” he said.

The man ‘found it difficult to hide his astonishment.

“Jessica, this is David Croissant,” said Joss.

I had heard that name before. David Croissant, the merchant who knew more about the quality of opals than any other. He was not tall, and his dark hair grew low on his forehead, meeting in the centre in what we called a ‘widow’s peak’. He had light eyes which because of his general darkness gave him an unusual appearance, and those eyes, I noticed, were too closely set together.

“You’ve not heard about Ben,” said Joss. David Croissant looked startled and Joss told him.

“Good God!” said David Croissant.

“I had no idea. Ben … old Ben!”

“We shall, all miss him sadly,” said Kurt.

“What bad luck,” murmured David Croissant.

“If he’d still got the Flash you’d think it was that. I wonder what happened to Desmond Dereham. He disappeared off the face of the earth. He went to some outlandish place, I don’t doubt. Perhaps he’ll escape the bad luck.”

“Why should he?” asked Grete.

“Some say there’s evil in that stone and if that were so it might favour someone who stole it.”

“What a crazy idea,” said Joss.

“I’m surprised at you, David, an opal man, talking such nonsense. Ill luck! For heaven’s sake let’s put a stop to all that talk. It’s not good for business.”

He flashed me a warning look, which told me that he did not want me to mention the fact that the Green Rash had not been stolen. I wondered why and felt resentful that my father should go on being accused of stealing something which at the very most he had only attempted to.

However, I was unsure of myself and remained silent.

“It’s true,” said Kurt. “Who’s going to buy opals if they’re considered unlucky?”

“Lucky! Unlucky!” said Joss vehemently. “It’s a lot of nonsense. Long ago opals were the good luck stones and then it was discovered that they can  sometimes be fragile and uus talk of bad luck started.”

“What have you brought to show us, David?” asked Kurt.

“Ah,” replied David, ‘some stones that will make you dance with joy.

There’s one in particular. “

Let’s see it,” said Joss.

“Mind you,” answered David, ‘it’s not cheap. “

“If it’s what you’re implying who’d expect it to be?” retorted Joss.

When I saw the Harlequin Opal I had my first real understanding of the fascination a stone could convey. It was aptly named. There seemed so many colours which changed as one watched. There was a gaiety about that stone. It definitely had a quality which even I could recognize.

“You’re right,” said Joss.

“It’s a beauty.”

“I only know of one stone I’d compare it with.”

"Now we’re back to the Green Flash,” retorted Joss.

“You can’t expect anything to compare with that’ ” Of course not. But this is superb. “

“I wonder you’re not afraid to travel around with it,” “I only show it to people I know. I keep it apart from the rest. I’m not going to tell you my secret hiding place. How do I know you might not turn bushranger?”

That’s wise of you,” said Joss. He held out the stone to me. Take a look at that, Jessica.”

I held it in the palm of my hand and I felt a reluctance to let it go.

“You see the beauty of it?” said Joss eagerly.

“Not a flaw in it. Look at those colours and the size…”

“Don’t praise it too much. joss,” begged Kurt.

“You’re putting the price up. Not that I’m going to bid for it. I know I can’t afford it.”

“I’ve others you’ll like, Kurt,” said David Croissant. "I'll put Harlequin away or she’ll outshine everything else. “

I was still staring at the stone I held.

“You see,” said David, ‘your wife doesn’t want to lose it” ” She’s beginning to understand something about opals. That’s true, eh, Jessica? “

“I’m very ignorant,” I said, handing the stone back to David, ‘but at least I’m aware that I know nothing about them. “

“Which is the first lesson,” answered Joss.

“So you’ve mastered that.”

We looked at the other opals as David Croissant unrolled case after case and Joss explained the properties of each to me.

Then suddenly he looked at his watch. we must go, unless we are going to miss the ship. I’ll see you in Australia, David. I dare say you’ll be coming back soon. “

“As soon as I can. One or two calls to make and then it’s the next ship back.”

So we said goodbye and our horse-drawn carriage which had been waiting for us took us back to the ship.

There were long days in calm waters when the ship seemed to move hardly at all. I would sit on deck with Joss and we would talk desultorily while we sipped cool drinks. There was a quality about these days which suggested erroneously that they would go on like this for ever. Now and then we would see a school of porpoises or dolphins sporting in the water and the flying-fishes rising from the deep blue depths to flutter on its surface. Once an albatross followed the ship for three days, and we would lie back in our chairs watching the infinite grace and calculate the immense strength of that twelve-foot span of wing as it circled above us.

Even my desire to discover the truth of my father’s disappearance receded. This was peace, and I wondered whether Joss felt it too.

We would sit on deck until sunset, which was about seven o’clock, and it was fascinating to experience the quick descent of twilight. How different from home where the subdued light lingers for a long time after the sun has set. Here it was bright day with that great ball of fire shedding its heat upon us until it sank into the sea, followed by almost immediate darkness.

The sunsets were superb and one night Joss said: “In waters such as this we could see the green flash.”

So each night we sat there and we were all hoping for a glimpse of it.

Anxiously we would scan the sky for the signs.

“Everything has to be perfect for it.” Joss explained.

“No clouds, the sea calm, every little detail has to be just right.”

Each evening when we sat there I would say: “Will it be tonight?”

“Who shall say?” answered Joss.

“One sits and waits as for an important visitor. If it comes and you are not watching for it with your complete attention, you’ll miss it. Don’t forget it’s there in a flash and gone again. If you blink an eye you’d miss it.”