‘You can sort out payment for the boatman,’ Nell told her as the small boat pulled in and the captain and his sixteen-year-old assistant helped Moira onto dry land.

Dora reached for the Prada bag, hoping it hadn’t got completely soaked.

‘Ochi, ochi . . .’ No, no. The captain shook his head vigorously, as if being paid was almost an insult. ‘Four beautiful ladies coming to our island is enough payment,’ he announced with a bow. ‘The saint requires us to do good deeds.’

The doctor was indeed waiting for them at the quay and had enlisted two youths with a makeshift stretcher. Moira was duly carried off to the surgery, still holding onto Nell’s hand as if her life depended on it.

‘Kalimera, kalimera,’ the old lady greeted them. ‘My son has beautiful rooms in his hotel over there on the side of the water, if you need somewhere to stay.’

At the word ‘hotel’, Dora visibly perked up. She followed the black-clad figure, while Penny went off in the wake of the doctor. Not looking where she was going, she walked slap-bang into what seemed to be a washing line draped with huge orange rubber hanging out to dry. Stepping back, Penny took in the suckers, pale and menacing like something from a horror film.

‘Oh my God, it’s octopus! Quick, don’t let Moira see. She’ll probably have a relapse!’

When they were finally in the doctor’s surgery and Moira was laid out on his couch, he asked what they thought she had eaten.

‘Octopus,’ replied Nell. ‘But it was freshly caught. We saw the fisherman bringing it in.’

The doctor nodded curtly. ‘Probably cooked it on his engine. They all do. I keep telling them it’s not a good idea.’

‘Oh my God, you’re not serious.’

He smiled, feeling Moira’s pulse and popping a thermometer into her mouth. ‘The fishermen think it tastes best that way.’

‘I am never, ever going to eat octopus again in this country,’ Penny muttered.

‘Somebody ought to give them a few cooking lessons,’ commented Nell, who had done a Prue Leith course with some of her divorce money in the hope of either a new career or a new man to cook for. Unfortunately neither had materialized.

‘Leave your friend here with us,’ the doctor offered. ‘My wife and I will look after her while you find somewhere to stay. There is not much choice on an island like Kyri, but the hotel is good.’

‘Will she be all right?’ Penny asked anxiously.

‘She needs rest, and little food. I will give her antibiotics also. These things are very common on holiday.’

‘Oh, thank goodness,’ Penny breathed. ‘Our other friend has gone to check out the hotel.’

‘That is good. It is only the other side of the harbour. You will like it, I think.’