‘From the wine shop round the corner,’ instantly replied the man in the beret. ‘None of that supermarket rubbish they call ouzo, when it is no more than a donkey aiming his piss in a bottle!’

‘Of course, of course,’ bowed Stelios obsequiously. ‘I will purchase some right away.’

He linked his arm with Moira’s. ‘The more ouzo the better, in my view,’ he whispered.

‘But then they’ll all just talk gibberish.’

‘You insult the drinking capacity of our nation! Besides, I’ll get the wine shop man to water it down a bit. They won’t be able to tell. Pick up some nibbles from that deli while we’re passing. Nothing that will get stuck in false teeth, mind.’

Moira pushed open the door of the deli, feeling somewhat flummoxed. She had no idea what snacks would get caught in false teeth. She settled on some harmless-looking olives with chunks of feta cheese, and some chilli-flavoured Doritos. She wasn’t quite sure of the wisdom of these but they were all she could afford, having only a small amount of money with her.

She met Stelios coming in the opposite direction with a bottle of ouzo and some small borrowed glasses.

The ouzo was duly poured, circulated, and a toast raised to the health of all, which Moira imagined must be quite important at their age. Stelios had just asked again for any news of Aphrodite, when their beret-wearing friend began to seriously choke on a chilli chip.

‘Oh dear!’ apologized Moira. ‘I knew those Doritos were a mistake.’

Stelios began to hit him energetically on the back.

‘Be careful you don’t kill him!’ advised Moira stoically. ‘At least, not before he tells us what he was talking about.’

‘Get some water, then!’ Stelios instructed. ‘There’s some in that jug!’

Moira poured some into a glass, held the man’s head back and poured it down.

‘Not like that!’ Stelios grabbed the glass from her. ‘In sips.’

After five or six attempts, the old man finally began to stop coughing and look normal.

‘Ouzo!’ he cried plaintively, as if it were mother’s milk.

Stelios added a little to the glass of water and handed it back to him. Gradually he became a more normal colour.

‘Georgiades,’ he finally announced. ‘Rich Athenian bastard.’ He made sure every eye was on him before he came up with his final revelation. ‘He rents a boathouse. Go to the end of the bay and then past the headland. There is a small inlet, hidden from sea view. You will find it there.’

Stelios pumped his hand. ‘Thank you!’

‘Be careful,’ the beret-wearer added as an afterthought. ‘He is not a good man.’

Moira and Stelios walked gleefully back towards the hotel. ‘Congratulations, Moira. This was all down to you. Now we are getting somewhere.’

When they got back to the cafe outside the hotel, Dora, Karl and Nell were all sitting round a table, looking deathly serious.