The ferry moored in Safome’s harbour, and Tally gathered her things as she waited for the captain to tether the ship to the quayside. The hotel staff in Athens had been brilliant, helping her book a hotel on the island for the next seven nights, which would give her time to find a more permanent place to stay. Her dad’s legacy wouldn’t last long if she spent it on hotels. She needed to find an apartment to rent as soon as possible.

She already loved this place and hadn’t even seen much of it yet. Blue water lapped over golden sand, and the hillside was dotted with white buildings. For the first time in months, a calm settled over her. This was the place to heal her ravaged heart and broken life. She’d never get over losing Cash, but he’d made his feelings perfectly clear, and she had enough self-respect not to beg.

After a short walk from the harbour, she arrived at her hotel. Check-in was easy, and minutes later, she walked into her room, a lovely traditional space with whitewashed walls and light furniture. It even had a small balcony with a couple of plastic chairs and tables and a lovely view of the sea.

She dug out her phone and put in a quick call to Pete. He worried too much, and she didn’t want to be the cause of more concern. Once she’d put his mind at rest, she settled on the balcony and rang Em. At first, she thought her friend wasn’t going to pick up, but right before the call went to voicemail, Em’s breathless voice sounded on the other end.

“Don’t hang up!”

“I’m here,” Tally said. “Where were you?”

“In the bloody shower. I’m standing in the middle of the living room, starkers and dripping wet.”

“Lovely. Go and get dressed. I’ll hang on.”

Em was back two minutes later, her girly giggle making Tally terribly homesick. “Think the guy across the street got more than an eyeful. The blinds are open.”

“He’ll probably be your next boyfriend.”

“Ew, no. He’s about fifty, fat, and bald. I might be desperate, but I’m not quite that desperate yet.”

Tally laughed. “Good to know.”

“Where’ve you landed anyway?”

“Safome.”

“Where’s that?”

“Not too far from Rhodes. A short ferry ride away from an airport. It’s quiet and quaint. Exactly what I need.”

“At least you’ve arrived safely. What’s the plan?”

“I don’t know yet,” Tally said, unwilling to discuss her idea about the article until she had it firmed up in her mind. “The hotel I stayed at in Athens got me sorted with a hotel here for the next week. I guess I’ll decide over that time whether I’m staying, which I probably will, and then I’ll get an apartment.”

“As long as it has a sofa bed or somewhere for me to kip.”

“Of course it will.” Melancholy swept over her, and she forced brightness into her voice. “Miss you already.”

“Miss you too, babes.”

“I’ll call you in a couple of days.”

“You’d better.”

As Tally ended the call, she gave herself a virtual slap. This was an exciting opportunity, one afforded to her by Dad, and she wouldn’t waste it feeling sorry for herself.

When her stomach rumbled, she decided to go for a walk, get her bearings, and grab something to eat. She headed down to the harbour. Along the seafront were a couple of tavernas. Tally seated herself at one of them and waved to catch the waiter’s attention. All the concerns she’d had about not being able to speak the language were unfounded. Everyone spoke excellent English, especially compared to Tally and her nonexistent Greek, and they were thrilled to have someone to practice on, insisting she correct them whenever they mispronounced anything or couldn’t find the right word.

When the waiter brought her food, she asked him if he had time to sit with her for a while. As it was off-season and the restaurant was virtually empty, he agreed. They chatted as she ate, and after she’d finished, she decided to raise the subject she was most interested in.

“Tell me about the refugees,” she said, sipping her Coke.

Sadness crossed his face. “It is so terrible. Such a tragedy.”

“Are there many here?”

“Yes. About two thousand. It is all the camp can take. The refugees, they wait here until papers come through, and then they travel to the mainland.”

“Two thousand?” Tally raised her eyebrows. “That’s a lot for a small island.”

“It is.” He gave her a pained look. “The government cannot cope. That is when a group of us decided we had to help. We do what we can, although we don’t have much.”

The more he shared, the more excited Tally became. This would make a great story, not only from the point of view of the refugees. She’d be able to offer a slant on how those with so little were willing to give what they could to those who had even less. Maybe if she shone a light on what was happening there, more help would come.

She thanked him for his company and went for a wander around. Behind the harbour, the streets were narrow with one-of-a-kind shops, a couple of cafés, and an ice cream parlour serving many varieties she’d never even heard of. She peered in the windows of a few of the shops and went inside one or two. Only when her shadow became longer did she notice the sun was beginning to dip behind the buildings.

She set off for the hotel but must have taken a wrong turn because nothing looked familiar. As darkness descended, she dug her phone out of her bag and switched on the torch app. Along the street, a warm glow shone from a shop window. Thank goodness. It must still be open. Surely whoever was inside would be able to give her directions back to her hotel?

Her sanctuary turned out to be a small café. She opened the door, the bell above dinging to alert the staff to her presence. The place was empty, and after a minute or so when no one appeared, she called out. Still no one came. Behind the counter was a doorway to what she presumed was the kitchen. Feeling a little cheeky but needing directions back to the hotel, she ducked behind the counter and pushed open the door.

The kitchen had clearly been cleaned down for the day, ready for the next day’s trade. Tally began to wonder whether the owner had left without locking up.

“Hello,” she called out. “Is anyone here?”

Greeted with nothing but silence, she ventured farther inside. At the far end was another door. That one was ajar, allowing a light breeze to waft through Tally’s hair. Tentatively, she pushed it open. It led onto a small courtyard. Sitting at a table, silently sobbing, was a girl who couldn’t have been more than twenty.

“Are you okay?” Tally asked.

The girl’s head snapped up. “Who are you? How did you get in?”

She spoke English with barely an accent, although her appearance was Greek.

Tally pointed behind her. “The front door is unlocked, and the lights are on. I’m lost, and you seem to be the only place open.”

“Shit.” The girl brushed past Tally and walked into the shop. She grabbed a set of keys from behind the small counter and waved her hand at the open door. “Thank you for telling me.”

“Wait. I’m looking for directions back to the harbour. I’m staying at a hotel close to there.”

The girl sighed. “Turn left at the end of the street. Walk about fifty yards, then turn right. Follow that road all the way, and it will take you to where you need to go.”

“Thanks.” Tally began to leave, and then she stopped. “You were crying.”

She huffed. “So?”

“Can I help?”

“I don’t know.” The girl rested her hands low on her hips and gave Tally an exasperated look. “Do you have twenty thousand euro?”

Tally smiled. “I do, actually.”

Surprise flitted across the girl’s face before she painted her aloof mask back on. “I’d be careful who you tell that to. People round here are poor. It’s been tough since the recession.”

“What’s your name?” Tally said.

The girl paused. “Nerissa,” she eventually replied.

“I’m Tally. Today is my first day on the island.”

“Good for you. Now, can you go? I need to lock up.”

Something about this girl called to Tally. Maybe it was Nerissa’s obvious despair, which she hid behind a stiff, proud posture, or maybe Tally was more attuned to heartache since her own experiences.

“I’d like to help, if I can.”

Nerissa let out an exasperated sigh. She marched across to the door and locked it. “Sit down,” she said, directing Tally to a table. “I’ll make a drink.”

Tally took a seat by the window at a table covered in a blue checked cloth. Nerissa came across with two hot chocolates. She sank into the seat opposite Tally and rubbed her eyes.

“You speak really good English. I mean, everyone I’ve met so far does, but I can barely detect your accent.”

Nerissa reached for a packet of sugar and tipped the granules into her drink. “My grandmother is English. She moved to Greece after meeting my grandfather. She schooled me from a very young age.”

“She did a good job,” Tally said, feeling the need to set the girl at ease.

Nerissa shrugged.

“Why do you need twenty thousand euro?” Tally said.

Nerissa smoothed her skirt, a threadbare, tatty affair. “I don’t even know you.”

“Sometimes, it’s easier to talk to a stranger.”

Nerissa laughed, but the sound was hollow. “This place,” she said, waving her hand around. “I run a soup kitchen with my grandmother for the refugees. We were doing okay, but then she was taken ill, and she can’t help out anymore. And now, more come. I can’t keep up with it.” She angrily dashed away her tears, almost as though she was embarrassed to show any weakness. “I need more space, a bigger kitchen. More help. But it’s hopeless.”

“Don’t say that.” Tally squeezed Nerissa’s hand and half expected the girl to shake her off, but she seemed too exhausted to bother.

As they sat in silence, an idea began to form in Tally’s mind. It was insane. Totally and utterly insane. But after what she’d been through, a bit of crazy would do her good.

“Look, I’m going to be sticking around here for a few months. Why don’t I pay for the extension? I’ll help out here, too, if you like.”

Nerissa’s mouth dropped open, and she blinked several times, a look of astonishment mingled with hope on her face. “Why would you do that?”

Tally shrugged. “Let’s just say I’ve had my priorities reorganised recently. Made me want to take a few more chances.”

And helping those much worse off than me might put my own problems into perspective.

Nerissa paused, and then she thrust her hand out. “You’re mad, but I’m desperate. Okay, you’ve got yourself a deal.”