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He clapped his hands in a gesture of finality. ‘Then Ithos will take you to its heart and keep you until everything is well. But first you must eat.’

Without asking, he called for Teresa, who hurried over from the other table she was serving. Demetrios spoke to her in Greek, then she hurried off and returned a few moments later with a Greek breakfast: olives, cheese, eggs, cold cuts, yogurt with a fruit compote, and a basket of fresh bread rolls.

‘Please, eat,’ he insisted, and after a polite, but brief hesitation, the girl fell on the food like a starving person, tucking into the delicious fare and trying not to speak with her mouth full as he gently questioned her.

‘Where are you from, Grace Taylor?’

‘England. A town just outside Manchester – it’s so small, you’ll never have heard of it. Who are you?’

Demetrios laughed.

‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude.’ She shovelled another mouthful of the delicious bread and cheese into her mouth, her troubles briefly forgotten. ‘You look less serious when you laugh, and your eyes crinkle up nicely.’

‘My name is Demetrios Theodosis, and my family have lived on this island for many generations. Perhaps always.’ Demetrios grinned. ‘I’m in shipping, hence those many lines you describe kindly as crinkles, and Teresa here is the wife of Níko, owner of this taverna. Níko is a cousin of my father and one of my oldest friends, the two of us are like brothers.’

Teresa had been following their conversation as she waited on the other tables. Her eyes sparkled as Demetrios beckoned her over, and the two started speaking rapidly in Greek.

She peered over Demetrios’s shoulder and studied Grace, as if assessing her. ‘Are you looking for work?’

Grace hesitated for a moment, then nodded. ‘Yes.’

‘Have you waitressed before?’

‘Yes.’

‘Can you start this evening?’

‘Er …’ Grace looked at Demetrios.

‘Let me explain,’ he said. ‘You need money and somewhere to stay?’

Grace nodded.

‘Teresa and her husband Níko need a waitress – their last one has run off to get married, so they are a pair of hands short.’

‘But I don’t have anywhere to stay, and no money—’

Demetrios held his finger up to stop her talking. ‘They have a room above the taverna that you can stay in. They will pay you a week in advance, which I will act as guarantor for, in case you do a moonlight flit, which I don’t think you will.’

Grace shook her head fervently. ‘Of course not, but I couldn’t possibly let you—’

‘I insist. The sea has delivered you to Ithos, and Ithos must provide. You have a job and a room, Teresa has the help she needs. Everyone is happy, no?’

‘What about my passport?’ the girl asked.

‘You gave the police your details, yes?’ She nodded. ‘Then leave it with me,’ he said, standing to leave. He leaned down and kissed her lightly on both cheeks in the Greek fashion, leaving a hint of citrus and sandalwood in his wake.

The girl blinked, not quite believing what had just happened, but Teresa didn’t give her time to think. ‘Come, let me show you to your room.’ Grace grabbed her backpack and Demetrios smiled as he looked over his shoulder and saw her running to keep up with the departing Teresa.

Ariana ran a brush through her long thick hair, her amber eyes looking back at her angrily from the mirror. Her father was so infuriating – why would he never listen to her or care about what she wanted in life? She was furious with him.

We have provided you with the best education in the world and this is how you repay your parents? he had berated her.

Ariana slammed the brush down. What would he know about what was best? Neither of her parents could wait to be rid of her, bundling her off to an English public school when she was thirteen. Best education, indeed! They had done what suited them, not her.

‘You only sent me to Marlborough because you wanted to get on with your own lives without me in the way,’ she had shouted at him.

‘You asked us to send you there. I wanted you to stay in Athens!’ he had yelled back at her.