be fine," Lucy replies. "How long will this bit take?"
"A couple of hours, but as we get closer to the land the sea will calm down a bit."
"Lovely."
Fortunately, the direction of the wind means that I can keep the boat moving forward in the direction we are actually heading. I'm not sure that Lucy would enjoy it if we had to tack miles out of way to catch the breeze. She's not saying very much now. I realise how much she talks most of the time. I'm not complaining about the peace and quiet. It gives me a chance to think. I've moved from completely dismissing the notion that Helen might be in any sort of trouble, to entertaining it as a slight possibility. The Helen that I've become better acquainted with during the last twenty-four hours is certainly not the one that I thought lived in solitary retirement on Meganisi. The overelaborate alarm system she has on an island where the occasional goat theft is about as disorderly as it gets, is plain odd. A panic room is unusual too I would think. But then I'd never noticed that she was a walking Hatton Garden either. Mostly there was that necklace. I'd like to get a better look at that. Gradually the waves become less pronounced. I pick up the narrow channel that leads into Preveza through the otherwise shallow waters. "I'm going to go alongside the quay, up this end," I point towards my left side, "I think I see a space we can slip into. It's much quieter this end of the quay, away from all the restaurants, and an easy walk to all the action." A quarter of an hour later we are tying up between a large motorboat and a double masted yacht. Achilles is probably worth less than either of the tenders to these boats. Lucy is transfixed by the line of very expensive boats that line the quay.
"Most of the big boats come in here," I say. "It's a popular overnight stopover. Not many stay more than one night though."
As soon as the boat touches the wall, Kitty jumps ship. I'd kept her shut in at Lefkas, so she is bursting. She's headed across the road into some rough land opposite.
"About bloody time, only think about yourself don't you," she calls back at me.
"Will she be alright?" asks Lucy pointing to Kitty as she disappears.
"I hope so. A waste of cat food if she's not. Right, beer o'clock I think."
Lucy gives me her disappointed face that I'm getting to recognise.
"You didn't think I'd go the whole day without, did you? Bring your telephone." I point towards a cafe fifty metres towards the town with modern tubular steel tables and chairs, young people, and Ibiza music playing over the speakers. Not my type of place but it's close and it sells beer. Lucy joins me in a litre of ice-cold local lager.
"There is nothing better than that first swallow of the day," I say, taking another.
"Hopefully it will settle my head down a bit," replies Lucy, "is it me or is this cafe moving up and down?"
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