Two years ago, whilst on holiday in Crete, a group of us took a guided tour. Manos took us to his own family home, a sprawling set of inter-linked houses in the mountains. There we met his elderly mother, dressed all in black. She showed us her family photographs, and Manos translated as the old lady told us about her involvement in the Resistance movement, and showed us her precious pottery and ornaments that had been handed down for generations. We talked about many things, including the feud that had emptied a village of all its men not that many years ago. It was a magical afternoon where I was caught up in tales of bravery and recklessness. I learnt so much about Cretan customs and traditions that I just had to write a modern story which would capture the spirit and pride of the Cretan people, but relate it to an English woman on the cusp of a new life.