The other hut was made of greying wood, in dire need of a protective sealant if it was to last much longer. This was filled with gardening equipment. Moira assumed the business must double as a maintenance service for rich and absent owners. She was about to give up when she noticed a large pile of wood at the far end. Not so strange, as Greece could be surprisingly cold in winter, but there was something about the arrangement that seemed odd.

She carefully removed a few logs at the base, experiencing a kick of disappointment. There was nothing out of the ordinary. She was just about to give up when the pile began to topple so quickly that she had to move out of the way to avoid being injured.

Underneath was a tarpaulin which covered a six-foot-long object exactly the right size to be the marble bench. It was too securely fastened for Moira to open it without a knife, not a thing she generally carried. She swore under her breath.

Beginning to panic that Penny would soon run out of ways to hold off the blond Adonis, she quickly photographed the shape of the hidden object and began to feverishly replace the logs.

Minutes later, she inspected her handiwork. Was the arrangement the same as before, or could an experienced eye easily tell it had been interfered with? She had often read about feeling sick in the pit of your stomach, and for the first time she understood what it meant.

As fast as she could, she closed the hut door and half-ran back up the hill. Penny was still valiantly engaging the young man in conversation.

‘Moira, listen to this,’ she greeted her. ‘Yorgos here is studying classical civilization.’

‘That’s great,’ Moira congratulated, so lost for anything more to say that she added: ‘Why are so many Greek men called Yorgos?’

The young man laughed. ‘I have read that a third of men in Greece are called Yorgos, though I do not know if it is true. Certainly half my family are. But I am in the only one with fair hair.’ He swung his shoulder-length locks proudly.

Moira grabbed Penny’s arm. ‘Come on, Penny, or we’ll miss the sunset!’

Yorgos laughed again. ‘You are too late. You will get nowhere near the good places to watch it.’

‘Ah well,’ Moira pretended to look devastated. ‘Maybe we’d better go and drown our sorrows instead.’

‘How did you get on?’ Penny demanded as they walked away.

‘I’m pretty sure I found it! Under a wood pile – but all tied up in a tarpaulin so, blast it, I couldn’t take a photo.’

‘Oh God, Moira! What the hell do we do next?’

Fourteen

Nell sat in the silence and emptiness of the hospital watching her baby granddaughter intently. It was so quiet that it felt almost as if they were the only two people left in the world.