Moira looked round for Takis to order a drink. ‘Oh, didn’t I tell you? The college won’t offer me another contract at my age. Lots of dons are up in arms about it, but do you know, since we got here I’ve been thinking, Kyri’s a lot more fun than Cambridge.’

‘Well, I have to be back,’ Dora said grandly. ‘Obviously.’ For one split second she thought of admitting that Venus Green, singer and reality TV star, had dumped her after all she’d done for the bloody girl, but instantly thought better of it. Her world was so different to theirs. She needed the excitement of getting her clients onto magazine covers, even if they were tacky ones. Venus, on the other hand, thought she ought to be on the cover of Vogue and Cosmopolitan.

Moira spotted Takis scuttling through the reception area as though he was trying to hide from someone. She looked round for who this might be and spotted the louche, elegant figure of Xan Georgiades approaching the front of the hotel just as Takis dipped down behind the desk.

Xan glanced irritably round the room and, seeing no sign of Takis, approached them instead. ‘Hello, ladies. I hear you’re taking the island by storm.’ His tone, aiming for jovial friendliness, still only managed to sound patronizing and vaguely unpleasant. ‘It’ll take quite a lot to turn Kyri into St Tropez.’

‘Indeed,’ Moira matched his tone. ‘Which is why we’re not aiming for anything so bloody ridiculous.’

Stung, he looked round again. ‘Have you seen the owner, by any chance?’

‘Out,’ replied Moira firmly, swinging her new bob dismissively. ‘He mentioned something about going to the beach bar.’

‘Right. I’ll go and look there. If he does reappear, can you tell him I’m looking for him? He’s got my number.’

‘Certainly.’ Moira assumed all the authority of a Cambridge classics don. ‘Now, if you don’t mind, we were having a private conversation.’

The others tried not to laugh as Xan strode crossly out and Takis popped up like Mr Punch from behind the reception desk. ‘Efharisto, kyria Moira!’

‘What does he want with you so urgently, anyway?’ Moira enquired, glad that he was feeling grateful so she could bend his ear over her Treasure Island bar concept.

‘The meeting tomorrow. About the olive grove. He wants me to argue that it’s a good thing to build his house there.’

‘And do you agree?’

‘No, but I am in a difficult position. He says I shouldn’t be deciding at all because I don’t want his house near my bar.’

‘Is that why you oppose it?’ Moira enquired.