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blow to his stomach, and Ilias grabs him round the neck, still holding his breakfast, and pulls. Adonis pushes them both apart.
    ‘ I have to go, but you must find me before you leave.’ Ilias pats him on his shoulder but doesn’t make any move to depart.
    ‘ You haven’t said what has brought you. Your Baba, he is not ill is he?’ Adonis asks.
    ‘ He will be. I quit.’ Dino smiles as he says the words but there is no humour in his eyes.
    ‘ You quit your job with the green lamp and the secretaries? Panayia ! Mother of God! Your Baba will go ballistic,’ Adonis says.
    ‘ But you know, my friend, without joking, things are not so easy here …’ Fanis’ brows crease into a frown again. ‘Maybe your Baba is right. In Greece now no one is building, and I have no new clients, only one or two construction projects that started some time ago. But when those finish ….’
    ‘ Speaking of jokes, I heard a good one!’ Adonis is in high spirits. ‘You know what the unemployed architect says to the one who has a job?’ He waits, and Fanis rolls his eyes. ‘Can you guess?’ Adonis claps his hand on Dino’s shoulder as he delivers the punch line. ‘Two souvlaki and a portion of chips!’ He dissolves into laughter, but no one else is much amused.
    ‘ It’s no joke, my friend.’ Fanis’ countenance is heavy. ‘I know many colleagues who have closed their offices.’ He makes his excuses and the party breaks up. Ilias lopes off to join his father, who is beckoning him for his breakfast. They all look towards the old man, who waves to Dino with one hand and beckons his son with the other, from one of the brightly coloured water taxis lined up in one corner of the port. Dino nods.
    They agree they will all meet up later, and Adonis and Dino are left alone. Adonis the taller of the two, lithe, Dino muscular by comparison, but they could be brothers, with the same dark straight hair swept back, straight noses, full eyebrows. Dino is pale by comparison; the English rain has washed away his tan.
    ‘Coffee?’ Dino asks.
    ‘ No, work.’ He tips his head up a side street towards a little bar with its doors closed, chairs stacked on tables. ‘Come.’ He begins to walk.
    ‘ Actually …’ Dino begins, nodding toward the café where Michelle sits. Adonis frowns, and then smiles and nods knowingly.
    ‘ Oh, I see,’ he says. ‘I will see you later then.’
    ‘ Can’t avoid it, my friend. It’s a small island.’ Dino grins.
    Michelle has finished her drink by the time he returns. They sit a while longer, soaking up the sun and the bustle of life around them. The ship they arrived on gives three sharp hoots and begins to back slowly away from the dock. More of the harbour comes into sight from where they are sitting. Halfway along the edge facing out to sea is a stumpy clock tower with carved stone columns on the corners by the clock face. Opposite, low in the water is a rusty blue cargo ship, strikingly at odds with the sleek white yachts and motor-cruisers that surround it.
    Michelle surmises that many of the things needed for daily life must be shipped in to these little islands. She looks around, and the absence of any roads suddenly strikes her. There are many little streets and passages, but they are all too narrow for a car or a truck.
    ‘ I did say, didn’t I? There are no cars, motorbikes, or bicycles here; just legs and donkeys.’ Dino’s smile lights his eyes. He seems thoroughly content.
    As if to prove the point, a string of donkeys, one behind the other, is led out from a side street to the edge of the pier near the cargo boat. One of the do nkeys lets out a braying call. A pair of donkeys follows and these are brought past the cargo ship to the corner where Michelle and Dino are sitting. A man with a flat cap and the most magnificent moustache Michelle has ever seen is holding the reins. He turns to stroke the lead donkey’s head. He twists the end of his moustache on both sides before taking