‘Sorry,’ she apologized. ‘I just wasn’t expecting a call.’

She looked at her phone. There was a WhatsApp message from Colin: I had some people round and now there’s no more food in the freezer. How the hell long are you going to be away?

Penny put her phone in her bag in case the others saw the message. No Hello, hope you’re having a good time; just, what was he going to eat when she was away? She took a deep breath to hide the tears that threatened to start. How could he even upset her so much when he was two thousand miles away? She sighed. Maybe she ought to get in touch with her daughter Wendy, and ask her to sort it out.

As they drained their wine and hugged each other goodnight, Penny felt a sudden impulse to tell Nell what her husband was really like. But if she did that, she realized with a painful insight, she might have to do something about it.

And the pathetic truth was, she wasn’t brave enough.

Next morning, over a delicious buffet breakfast of fresh fruit salad, the wonderful yogurt and cakes with syrup and fresh plums buried in them like a sponge clafoutis, Nell and Penny decided they should drop in on Moira and try to get some kind of idea how long she would be ill.

Cassandra appeared with a pot of thick Greek coffee. ‘I hope you ladies like proper coffee. It is poli kala, very good. All these young people, they like frappés!’ She pointed at an unfortunate girl in the next cafe, drinking a beige concoction in a glass with foam on top.

‘They use Nescafé! It is an outrage! It isn’t even Greek!’

‘Do you remember when we were here before, if you ordered a coffee they proudly brought lukewarm water and a sachet of Nescafé?’ Nell whispered.

Penny tried to think of a way of soothing Cassandra’s wounded national pride.

‘How silly of them. I just wanted to say again how wonderful your yogurt is!’

‘It’s because of my goats,’ Cassandra beamed. ‘They wander on the hills behind the beach cafe. My granddaughter Ariadne makes sure they don’t fall into the sea.’

‘Goodness,’ Penny replied, thinking of her own children at Ariadne’s age. ‘As well as minding the cafe? Doesn’t she have schoolwork?’

‘What is the point?’ Cassandra’s whiskery chin rose defensively. ‘She is going to work for her father anyway. What does she need to know about biology and chemistry, except to mix these silly cocktails the young people like?’ She became suddenly philosophical. ‘If only he had more customers. Why do you tourists go to the other islands and not here?’ she accused.

They all shook their heads and replied that they had no idea, except that none of them had heard of Kyri before.