Moira accepted and turned to Penny to find that she was sitting on the stone bench, clearly preoccupied about something else. She guessed something was up when Penny issued a gusty sigh.

‘Are you OK, Penelope?’

For the briefest moment Penny wondered whether to admit how worried she was about Colin’s curious behaviour, why he hadn’t contacted her recently, even when he’d got Marigold’s message; but Moira was not the most sensitive of relationship counsellors. The thought suddenly struck her that if Marigold had sent an email, Colin might never even have opened it.

Penny got to her feet. ‘I don’t think it’s here.’

Moira stared thoughtfully at the young man’s departing back. ‘Look, if there are Cokes there has to be a fridge, and that means a hut or an office of some kind. Why don’t you engage Adonis in some meaningful conversation, while I go and look?’

They waited for the young man to return.

‘There you are, ladies, two ice-cold Cokes.’ He handed them over. ‘You certainly need one today, it is so hot.’ He breathed out, wringing the bottom of his t-shirt for imaginary sweat and showing off his toned abdomen at the same time.

‘We are renovating some properties on Kyri – I wonder if you could show me how the fountain works.’

‘Kyri is a shithole,’ scoffed the young man rudely. ‘They could hardly afford a fountain there.’

‘Is it for sale or not?’ Penny asked in a tone of barely controlled anger.

‘Lipame,’ the young man bowed. ‘I’m sorry, kyria, that was not polite. Let me show you now.’

They walked towards the large fountain while Moira pretended to study a tasteful cherub apparently strewing flowers for an imaginary deity.

‘Do you sell many statues?’ Penny asked.

‘To the villas, yes. These boutique hotels, they only like everything modern, as if they could be anywhere instead of here in Greece.’ He almost spat on the ground.

‘So, tell me,’ she asked, feigning fascination with the operation of its intricate systems, ‘how does the fountain work?’

His reply almost made her laugh out loud. ‘As a matter of fact, you just turn on this switch.’ He pressed a button and water began to swirl down from the top of the fountain, gather in some hidden container and reappear again a few seconds later. So much for centuries of mechanical development.

Moira skipped noiselessly through the garden furniture to the remaining part of the site, which was out of sight round a corner. There were two huts here. The newer one had a simple pay terminal and old-fashioned till, plus a stool for Adonis and some sheets of plastic, presumably to swathe the more expensive furniture if it rained. Nothing more.