She was glad in the end that Superintendent Carlyle had waited. She could see him on the quayside, standing at the edge of the crowd of friends and relatives who had come to see passengers off.
Mei Lin had urged him to leave, thinking he had done more than enough by bringing her to the ship. But he had insisted, saying it was a pleasure. He hadn't spotted her yet, leaning against the rail on the top deck.
On the drive from Ballarat to Melbourne they had spoken very little. She knew she was wrapped up in her own thoughts, and she scarcely knew Frank, but they simply didn't have much to say to each other.
She was grateful for all he had done in fixing up the passports and tickets, but she knew he had done that for Lucien's sake, and maybe for Jean too. It had just speeded up sending her away, which, if they were honest, was what everyone wanted.
And she didn't want to stay in Australia, not now.
When Derek Alderton had suggested to her that he could get her to Australia, to meet Lucien again, she had jumped at the chance, of course. Anything would be better than the refugee camp, and Derek had told her that Lucien had not remarried.
She had been naive of course. She knew Derek was using her, trying to get Lucien to rejoin the army, but she hadn't expected him to have lied to her so blatantly.
Was it a lie, not to have told her that Li was alive? Well, it was as bad as a lie. How could Derek have kept that news from her? She had missed even more of her only daughter's life, and that of her granddaughter. That was hard to forgive.
She could only hope that Li would want to see her, and that she would forgive her more readily than she had Lucien. Mei Lin understood that Lucien had spent years searching for them both, but perhaps that didn't seem good enough to their daughter. She frowned slightly at the thought; could she heal the breach between them?
And then there was Jean. Derek had very conveniently not mentioned Jean, perhaps suspecting that Mei Lin would not have agreed to his plan if she had known. Even on the evening she arrived, it was obvious she had interrupted something between the housekeeper and her husband.
She had quickly suspected Jean and Lucien were lovers, but it gradually became clear the situation was not so simple. Most of the town thought Jean was probably his mistress, but not Charlie, or Alice, or in fact anyone who knew them well. Mei Lin smiled at the idea. Now she knew Jean better, the idea seemed preposterous.
But it was equally clear that Lucien loved Jean, and that Mei Lin's return was not going to change that.
So, all in all, everyone was happier and more settled with Mei Lin on the way to Hong Kong. Life in Ballarat could go back to normal. And she didn't mind that. She didn't love Lucien in the way she should love her husband; too many years had passed.
But that did leave her with an unknown and uncertain future. She was going to meet her daughter, whom she had not seen since she was four years old, and a granddaughter she had never met. And they would have to try to make a new life together, in a new place. She had survived far worse, but it was still a little daunting.
So in the end she was glad to see a familiar face on the quayside. Someone to wave to and who would wave back. Someone who acknowledged what she was doing, by leaving, by agreeing to a divorce, by making it all possible.
But she owed Lucien that much. He had saved her life twice.
The horn sounded, signalling their imminent departure, and Frank looked up, scanning the faces at the rail. He grinned when he spotted her and she waved to him, suddenly catching the mood of excitement and anticipation.
She would look forward, she resolved, not back to a pre-war marriage, in a different life time. As the boat moved away, Frank Carlyle waved to her.
She called out "Thank you," to him, but it was doubtful he could hear her above the crowds. He stood looking out towards her, arm raised, until she seemed like a tiny dot, and the crowd began to thin out.
"Good luck," he said quietly to himself, and then he turned away for the long drive home..