Moira announced she was going to find the purser and ask when they would dock at Ios, while Penny and Nell went into the bar and bought a bottle of wine to share with the singers on deck. They were an assorted bunch who had met each other at a hostel in Athens and decided to travel on together to Ios, where apparently the party never stopped.

They ranged in age from about seventeen to thirty, the girls mainly in tiny shorts and tank midriff tops, the men in Lycra and t-shirts, as if they might be about to jump onto a bike and join the Tour de France.

‘They’re like a modern version of us,’ Nell laughed.

‘Without the Afghan coats and hippie shawls,’ Moira agreed. ‘Do you remember that Berber wedding dress you found in Kensington Market and wore for about two years till it smelled worse than a camel?’

Nell laughed at the memory. ‘I loved that dress. It absolutely appalled my mother. Which was part of the charm.’

‘Do you think they mind having us oldies sitting with them?’ Penny asked anxiously, suddenly reminding Nell of a gun dog who has dropped its master’s pheasant and fears an angry reprisal.

‘I doubt they’ve even noticed,’ Nell replied. ‘And if they have, we probably remind them of their parents.’ She stood up, holding out the bottle. ‘Anyone for a top-up?’

‘Ooh, Demestica,’ said a pretty girl with a mass of dark curls. ‘We’re going up in the world!’ She made a place for Nell to sit next to her. Nell beckoned Penny and Moira to sit down too.

The moon began to rise. ‘Look, it’s almost full!’ Penny pointed out with satisfaction, as if she’d ordered it from Harrods. The warm breeze felt like being wrapped in the lightest of silk scarves.

Penny laughed happily. ‘Do you remember that fringed shawl of mine? The one with the embroidery that we kept over a lamp when I wasn’t wearing it?’

‘The black one with red and pink roses on it?’ Nell replied. ‘Whatever happened to it?’

‘I left it in my parents’ car and Mum put a pack of paté down on it. Deliberate sabotage. She said I looked like Gypsy Rose Lee and everyone was laughing at me. They were good days, weren’t they?’ She took Nell’s hand for a moment and squeezed it. ‘Thanks for coming. To be honest, I’m not sure what to expect.’

Nell squeezed back. ‘I jumped at the chance! Living on your own, you don’t get too many opportunities for adventure. The thrill of being a Single Lady on Saga cruises can definitely wear off, I assure you!’

Whether it was a tribute to the presence of Nell and Penny, they didn’t know, but one of the guitarists began to play Bob Dylan’s ‘The Times They Are a-Changin’’.