'How can you say that? She hates the city and right now she's probably out there lost in the middle of it. God!' Milo's eyes were dark with fury. 'How could you do this? How could you be so selfish?'

'I'm doing what's right for her.'

'No, you're not you're doing what's right for you! You just took her, damn you! As if you had a right to do that.'

'I have every right,' Georgio said.

'Goddam it!' Milo cursed. 'Have you ever had a conversation with her? Have you? And I mean something that goes beyond "How was your day at school?" because conversations with a kid are about more than that, you know?'

'Oh, and you know exactly how to behave around a kid, don't you?'

Milo bristled. 'I might not be the best father-figure to her. You might be older but she loves me!'

'Milo please!' Sonya said.

'She's ten years old,' Milo continued, 'and you've taken her from everything she knows and loves. She doesn't want to be here. How many times do I have to tell you that? When are you going to understand that she's happy with me?'

'Stop, please!' Sonya begged, her eyes filling with tears. 'This isn't going to help Tiana. We've got to try and find her.'

Georgio had started pacing up and down the room. He looked pale and Milo's anger suddenly ebbed away as he realised that his brother was just as terrified as he was.

'Have you taken her anywhere since she arrived?' Milo asked, his voice calmer now.

'We haven't had time,' Sonya said, wiping her eyes with an immaculate handkerchief. 'We came straight home from the boat.'

'Which is her room?'

Sonya led Milo through to a bedroom at the back of the flat. It was tiny and Milo could smell fresh paint on the walls and couldn't help noticing that they were pink just like her bedroom at home. The bed was covered in brand new soft toys and Milo felt himself softening just a little. They might not have gone about it the right way but it was obvious that they adored Tiana and were desperate to make a home for her here.

He cursed under his breath and turned around. 'Have you no idea where she might have gone?'

They both shook their heads.

'There's nowhere to go here,' Sonya said, her eyes filling with tears again. 'It's just streets.'

Milo nodded. He'd seen. There were no parks, no playgrounds, no open spaces that Tiana might feel tempted to visit. Anyway, this wasn't about running away to a park because she wanted to play. This was about her trying to get home.

'She's trying to get back to Kethos,' he said as the idea dawned on him.

'What?' Georgio said, the word exiting his mouth like a gunshot. 'That's crazy! Why would she do that? How would she do that?'

'Remember when we came over last year for the day?' Milo remembered the day he'd dragged himself away from Kethos so that they could exchange Christmas presents with Georgio and Sonya. He'd thought his last trip to the mainland had been for Georgio's wedding but it hadn't, had it? He'd almost forgotten about the rough boat ride over in December. Both he and Tiana had felt queasy but had she been paying enough attention to get herself home again on her own?

'You don't seriously believe she'd try to get back to Kethos, do you?' Sonya said.

Milo shrugged. 'I think we have to believe it. It's our only hope.'

Chapter 32.

Alice couldn't help but smile when she saw her father's coffin. She'd been prepared, of course, because they'd talked about it many times in the past but the reality was, well, so much brighter than she'd imagined. How many other people would dare to have a green and yellow coffin, she wondered? He'd chosen the colours in honour of his support of Norwich City Football Club and there, amongst the brilliant yellow flowers and green foliage sat a stuffed toy canary.

Stella was mortified. 'I don't believe it! What was he thinking of?'

'The Canaries, I think,' Alice said, once again acknowledging how little Stella had known their father.

'I think it's terrible!'

'It's his funeral. He can do what he likes.'

'He always did,' Stella said.

Alice turned and glared at her. 'What's that supposed to mean?'

'Nothing,' Stella snapped.

Alice shook her head. She still couldn't believe he'd gone. The heart attack had been shockingly swift. He'd had one before and had been warned to take things easy.

'Easy?' he'd laughed. 'I'm stuck in a wheelchair for half the day and in bed for the other half. How much bloody easier can I take it?'

Alice smiled as she remembered and tears pricked her eyes as she realised that she'd never hear that wonderfully warm laugh again. He hadn't had many reasons to laugh over the last few years but his sense of humour had never left him.

Alice still couldn't believe that it was happening. After Sam's phone call, everything had seemed to happen in slow motion and yet it had all happened frighteningly fast. It didn't seem a moment since she'd been sitting on her father's bed with his hands held in hers and now they were at his funeral about to cremate him.

She closed her eyes as hot tears threatened to spill. He hadn't known who she was that last time she'd visited him and the memory pained her. If only they'd had more time together. If only he'd had some glimmer of recognition that day.

The funeral went as well as a funeral possibly could. Sam had taken a couple of hours off work to attend and Alice was glad of his company even though he kept giving her flirty little looks over the hymn books.

'He was a fine man,' he told her after the service had ended.

'Thank you,' she said.

'Alice,' he said.

'What?'

'There's something I really need to tell you.' His eyes widened and had that doe-like expression that Alice was now used to recognising.

'Not now, Sam,' she said, knowing that whatever Sam wanted to say had nothing to do with her father's funeral.

'But you don't know what I'm going to say,' he protested.

'I do,' she said, and hurried down the gravel path out of the churchyard. Now was not the time to hear another man's declaration of love.

After it was all over, there was a reception at the hotel near the care home and Alice was warmed to see so many residents there to pay their last respects to her father.

'Oh, look at him over there,' Stella said, nodding towards an elderly man who was standing by the window with a plate piled high with food from the buffet. 'He's still got his slippers on!'

'And you will too if you're lucky enough to reach his age.'

'Trust me,' Stella said, 'I will still be tottering around in my heels even when I'm ninety.'

Alice rolled her eyes as an image of an ancient Stella flirting her way around an old people's home whilst wearing heels assaulted her vision.

'I'm getting something to eat,' Stella said, leaving Alice's side. Alice couldn't eat. Her stomach felt as if it was somersaulting inside her but she did reach out for a glass of wine from a nearby tray. It was as she was finishing it off and contemplating a second glass that she saw the old woman sitting in a chair by the window. She hadn't noticed her before and wondered why. She was very striking with her smooth, shoulder-length silver hair and a blue and pink shawl embracing her body.

'Hello,' Alice said as she approached her and took a seat next to her. 'Thanks so much for coming today.'

'I'm afraid I didn't make the service,' the woman said. 'I have problems with my back, I'm afraid, and I can't sit up for long any more and I get awfully cold.'

'It was certainly cold in there,' Alice said, shivering at the memory of the icy church. 'Can I get you anything?'

'Oh, no thank you. I'm saving up for dinner.' She gave a little smile. 'At my age, food is one of the few things we have to look forward to.'

'How old are you? If you don't mind me asking.'

'I don't mind, my dear. I'm eighty-two.'

Alice smiled at her. 'You must have seen so many amazing things.'

'And been to an awful lot of funerals.' She pulled her shawl a little tighter around her shoulders. 'That's the downside of getting old. Amongst other things, of course. It's so sad to see all your friends go.'

Alice nodded.

'And your father was a very dear friend indeed,' she said, her pale eyes bright. 'He's going to be missed so much.'

Alice's eyes filled with tears.

'Oh, my dear, I didn't mean to make you sad.'

'No, you didn't. I'm happy. Really I am,' Alice said. 'It's just that everyone's so kind. They keep telling me the loveliest things about him today and it makes me realise how much he was loved.'

'He certainly was.'

Alice blinked her tears away and looked at the woman. 'You're Rosa, aren't you?'

The old lady smiled and nodded.

'I'm sorry we've not met before,' Alice said.

'That's all right. I know that your time with your father was always precious.'

'You mean there was never enough of it,' Alice said, sadness filling her eyes.

The old lady looked shocked. 'I didn't say that.'

'I know, but it's just that I feel I never had enough time with him,' she said with a sad smile.

'But that couldn't be helped. You're a working girl and I know how hard all you young girls work these days.'

Alice shook her head. 'But it's still a lousy excuse.'

'You spent every moment you could with your father. Everybody knew that. He was a very lucky man. I hardly ever get to see my family.'

'Don't you?'

She shook her head. 'My daughter lives in Lancashire and my son well, he doesn't like care homes.'

'I'm sorry,' Alice said. 'That's awful.'

'That's life,' Rosa said.

There was a pause and they both looked out of the window on to the immaculate lawn. There was a little weak sunshine about and Alice spotted a statue hiding amongst the shrubbery. She cocked her head to one side. It looked like a classical figure. Could it possibly be Aphrodite or was her mind playing tricks on her?

'So, what are you going to do now?' Rosa asked, breaking into Alice's thoughts.

'What do you mean?'

'Well, your father said that you were only really living here because of him and, well, now that he's gone...' She looked up at Alice with questioning eyes.

'I don't understand,' Alice said.

'He told me that there was something about you something hidden away that was waiting to get out. He said that you were suppressing it that you were just going through the motions here but that something would take you away one day.'

'Really? He said that?'

The old lady nodded. 'Is there something? Something you want to do? I mean, I hope you don't mind me saying this but, with what your father is leaving you, you might very well be able to do it.'

'But I don't want to do anything,' Alice said, puzzled. 'I'm happy here.'

'Are you?' The old lady sounded surprised. 'But your father told me-' she paused.

'What?' Alice asked, desperate to know.

'He said that you would surprise everybody. He said that Stella might do the most outrageous things but you would be the one to do the most amazing thing.'

'How strange. He never said anything like that to me,' Alice said.

'But he must have been thinking it.' The old lady reached out and grabbed one of Alice's hands and she was surprised by its warmth. 'I hope you don't mind me saying all this to you,' she said. 'He loved talking about you. He was very proud of you, you know.'

Alice could feel the all-familiar tears once again. 'Thank you,' she said. 'Thank you so much for telling me all this.'