‘So, there I was, down in the Aegean Sea, training for the Cyclades Regatta next week, when a sailing friend of mine asked me if I wanted to join him on his motor yacht for a few days. The weather was fantastic and it was great to actually relax on the water for a change,’ Ally acknowledged with a rueful smile.

‘Whose boat was it?’ asked Electra.

‘I told you, just a friend,’ Ally responded abruptly, and each one of us raised our eyebrows in disbelief.

‘Anyway,’ she continued, ‘there we were a couple of afternoons ago, when my friend told me that another sailing mate of his had radioed him to say he’d spotted the Titan anchored off the coast of Delos. My friend obviously knew the boat belonged to Pa, and we both decided it would be fun to surprise him and rendezvous with him. We were only an hour or so away if we stepped on it, so we raised anchor and set off.’

Ally took a sip of her coffee before continuing.

‘I saw the Titan through the binoculars as we neared it and radioed Hans, Pa’s skipper, to tell him we were close by. But’ – Ally sighed – ‘for reasons that I didn’t understand at the time, no message came back. And in fact, we could see that the boat was already moving away from us. We did what we could to catch it, but as you all know, Pa’s boat can shift when it wants to.’

I watched my sisters’ rapt faces around the table, all clearly intrigued by Ally’s story.

‘The signal on my mobile was dreadful and it was only yesterday when I was able to pick up all your messages asking me to call you urgently. And one from you, CeCe, telling me exactly what had happened.’

‘Sorry, Ally.’ CeCe lowered her eyes in embarrassment. ‘I didn’t think there was any point beating about the bush. We needed to get you home as fast as possible.’

‘And I came. So please,’ Ally entreated us, ‘can somebody tell me what on earth was going on? And why Pa Salt’s boat was down in Greece when he was already . . . dead?’

All eyes at the table turned to me, including Ally’s. So, as concisely as I could, I told her what had happened, referring occasionally to Marina for confirmation. Ally’s face drained of colour when I explained where and how our father had wanted to be laid to rest.

‘Oh my God,’ she whispered. ‘So the chances are that I happened upon his private funeral. No wonder the boat sped off as fast as it could away from me. I . . .’

Ally put her head in her hands and the other girls stood up and gathered around her. Marina and I shot each other painful glances from opposite ends of the table. Finally, Ally recovered her composure and apologised for her instinctive display of emotion.

‘It must be an awful shock for you to realise what was actually happening,’ said Tiggy. ‘We’re all so sorry for you, Ally.’