AS he lay in his bed, Gregory became aware of the indistinct figure of a woman beside him. “My boy, why do you have no respect for me?” she asked. “I don’t even know you, woman”, Gregory complained muzzily.

“You don’t?” his visitor inquired, puzzled. “So why insult me all the time?”

At that, Gregory leapt to his feet. He tried to cry out, but couldn’t; he tried to run, but it was as if he was buried in sand up to his knees.

“Come to my house in Parikia” said the lady, referring to an ancient church on the other side of the island, “and pay your respects to me there”.

It was ten miles away, but Gregory was there by dawn.

He made his sincere apologies in front of Mary’s icon - he instantly recognised his night-time visitor - before returning to Piso Livadi.

To his surprise, Gregory found his little fishing boat bobbing up and down in the harbour. It didn’t have so much as a scratch on it.