‘David told me his mother had lost a battle against breast cancer ten years earlier, and his father had worked on the oil rigs. He was living in Scotland somewhere but I never met him and had no way to contact him. David and his father weren’t the best of friends. Both parents liked a drink by all accounts, and he’d had a rough childhood. Anyway, he’d left home and they’d lost touch. The British Consulate in Greece took care of everything; getting David back to Britain and making all the arrangements . . . you know. Wonderful people!’
She glanced at her lap where the napkin that came with her coffee was in shreds. ‘Tsk! Silly me.’
‘Thanks for telling me all this. I can understand why you were reluctant. It can’t have been easy.’
‘There’s more, but time’s going by and I ought to go through to Departures. Give my love to Dad. Feel free to take my room. Have a nice time.’
‘You too.’
They both stood, then Shelly slung her arms around him and hugged. ‘Thanks for bringing me in.’
‘Safe journey, Mum.’ They smiled at each other, hiding the heartache of lost years, and still enjoying the novelty of their new-found relationship.
CHAPTER 38
GERTIE
Greece, 1917.
THIS WAS IT. THE ONLY reason they would want us both back in England would be to take part in an inquiry related to the sinking of the Britannic.
Walking along the main road towards HMS Gabriel, it occurred to me that, as far as I knew, the only person who survived Lifeboat 1, and therefore knew it was I that opened the portholes, was Corporal Perkins. Before we left for the port, I hurried to the mail room and explained I wouldn’t be distributing the letters and parcels anymore.
There were letters from home for me and Josephine, so I gathered them and hurried to catch up. With our pillow-bags slung over our shoulders, we marched boldly towards the port. Several battleships were moored to the quayside, and many more were anchored out in the bay. We were ten minutes early arriving at the ship, so we sat on the quayside and read our post before boarding. My letter was from Victoria Pimlet, a fellow VAD I’d met while training. I hadn’t seen her since the evening before the sinking and feared she had gone down with the first lifeboat. Therefore I was shocked to get a letter from her, which told me of events that affected the Britannic survivors.
Dear Gertie,
I hope this letter reaches you, as nobody seems to know where you are. All the medical staff, and the wounded, picked up by the battleships stayed in Athens until 27 November. We were ordered to write an account of the sinking. I was lucky to survive Lifeboat 1 after being pulled under by the propeller and hit on my head. The doctor said my long hair saved me, because it was braided and piled up, then pinned down by my veil. I came up in the turbulence, and some firemen rescued me. I still get headaches, but I am alive. Athens was amazing. We saw all the ancient sites then we worked in the Russian hospital in Piraeus. Eventually, they shipped us home. We docked at Southampton on Boxing Day. How happy we were to get off that ship!
I went to see your mother to see if they had heard from you. They made me terrifically welcome. They thought you had drowned and were pleased to get your telegram.
I met the very dapper Corporal Perkins from our ward. He’s here now, walking very well with his new leg and flirting with everyone in his gentlemanly way.
An investigation into the loss of the Britannic took place on the flagship, Duncan, on 24 November, just before we left for Malta. Apparently, they couldn’t get all the survivors together for the inquiry. More than thirty people died, but God knows how many were injured, at least twice as many. They say the Britannic hit a mine, but sank before reaching land because someone went against orders and opened the portholes on E deck. Can you believe that? Our own ward, Gertie!
I’m shocked, but I can’t remember who was on duty when we went to our breakfast meeting, can you? There’s talk they should be hanged, not only because of the thirty killed, and the many injured, but also for the thousands that will die on Lemnos for lack of transport back home.
I could not get my breath, and leaned against the harbour wall.
‘Trouble?’ Josephine asked. ‘Your parents?’
I shook my head, unable to speak.
‘It can’t be that bad, Gertie, tell me,’ she said quite matter-of-factly. ‘Do you have bad news from home?’
‘Swear you’ll never tell?’
She nodded.
‘It was me that opened the portholes!’
‘You! Dear Jesus in Heaven, you?’ She stared at me. ‘You shouldn’t have told me. Now what am I supposed to do? If they ask me questions, I can’t lie.’
‘Do you think they’ll hang me? Perkins and the other patients bullied me – over and over – to open them for ten minutes, to let the bedpan stink out. Ward sister told me to use my initiative, you see; so in the end I did.’ I tumbled on. ‘I should never have lied about my age, but with my poor sister and brother both dead because of the war, I wanted to fight for England on their behalf, do you understand? Now I’m so terribly sorry and I don’t know which way to turn.’
‘Stop! You lied about your age, and nobody checked? Shame on them.’
I shook my head. ‘I’d done really well in training, Matron said so. How was I to know we’d hit a mine or a torpedo a few minutes after I’d opened the portholes?’
‘So how old are you?’
‘Eighteen. Nearly nineteen.’
‘Eighteen, and you’ve had people’s lives in your hands, and taken part in the surgery? Oh, my dear lord!’
‘The only people that know it was me, as far as I can guess, are you and Perkins, and I believe he’s forgotten. I think he lost part of his memory when he was hit on the head.’
Now I’d made matters worse. How could I stop Josephine telling the inquiry panel it was me?
*
We boarded the Gabriel and proceeded to our quarters, a small cabin with four bunks, but thankfully we had the place to ourselves.
Josephine was silent, clearly deep in thought, while we organised our belongings. An orderly arrived with two fresh nurse’s uniforms.
‘Leave your clothes on the floor and I’ll collect them while you eat and get them laundered for morning,’ he said, avoiding our eyes. ‘The Captain requests your company at dinner. I’ll be here to escort you just before twenty hundred hours, ladies.’
‘For goodness’ sake, don’t mention the portholes, the Britannic, or anything,’ Josephine said with a tremble of panic in her voice. ‘In fact, make yourself forget everything that happened before the dolphin, all right? Then you have a solid answer when you’re interrogated. From this moment, I am also going to forget you ever told me. Do you understand?’
‘Interrogated? Do you think they’ll apply the thumbscrews or give me electric shock treatment to make me talk?’ Sweat prickled my forehead. ‘I am not a brave person, Josephine. Just the suggestion of pain and I’ll be a quivering idiot with a mouth that won’t shut.’
‘Just stop that nonsense right now! You, Gertie, are a very brave person, one of the bravest I know! You have dealt with trauma and terrible injuries. You’ve stitched up horrific wounds, walked across a room with an amputated leg in your arms, soothed dying men, and calmed the hysterical. Don’t tell me you can’t cope with this! The past can’t be changed. Now let’s get on with our lives and try to make the world a better place for the future.’
I threw my arms around her neck as if she were my very own Sissy. ‘Thank you, Josephine. I’m sorry I told you, but it’s been terribly lonely keeping it inside. I would confess, but my poor parents, my father’s a doctor, they would have a terrible time of it. I’m filled with remorse, I deserve to be punished . . . but my parents don’t. This is not their fault.’
‘Like I said, we can’t change the past, so let’s forget it now, and promise me you’ll never mention it again.’
‘I’ll try my best.’
‘That’s not good enough. I re
peat myself: promise me you’ll never mention it again.’
‘I promise.’
‘Good. Let’s see what our captain says this evening. You could practise looking gay and carefree because you’re going home and have nothing to worry about. That’s what they would expect from us mere women.’
*
There was nothing remarkable about eating at the Captain’s table, except we had slightly better food, and a wonderful jam suet pudding. We learned that the ship would call at Syros to fill her water tanks. When Josephine and I retired, we enjoyed simple pleasures; to lie on clean sheets, and to wear clean undergarments.
I wondered again about what might happen in England. How could I answer questions convincingly without lying? I had done a terrible wrong, too terrible to contemplate, and because of it, many people had died. Should I confess, lie, run away? Or claim amnesia as Josephine insisted.
My thoughts went to the island of Syros. Would Manno arrive with the mail boat from Kea while we were there? I closed my eyes and pressed my hand against my chest, how I longed to be in his arms. All my worries disappeared when I thought about Manno and the tenderness of his kiss.
I woke in my cabin at dawn, contented, having fallen asleep with a full belly for a change. Low sunlight streamed through our porthole and I heard much louder clangs and the clattering of sailors going about their jobs. This made me want to investigate on deck. We washed and dressed quickly, enjoying the luxury of warm water and clean clothes. Up top, we discovered the ship was approaching Ermoupoli, the capital of Syros, and I remembered Manno and my first kiss on the quayside.
A pale sun, huge on the horizon, floated above the mist-covered sea filling the sky with shades of orange and pink, then every colour of the rainbow mingled and merged, radiating the hope and fresh start that came with a new day. Great cathedrals topped the hills of Syros, overcrowded with colourful, cubed buildings that appeared like a jigsaw tipped onto a table. Yet, as the light increased, parts of the vista made sense and fell into place, gathering its surroundings, until the scene was a complete picture. Just as I remembered it. The mountains behind the island’s capital were last to reveal themselves from the grey dawn. In a rising glow of tangerine light, the barren mastiffs made a perfect backdrop for the resplendent city. The sky had poured her tints and hues onto the buildings, and became herself nothing but a sheet of bright blue above the kaleidoscope of coloured dwellings and churches. Soon, all was as flamboyant as it should be in a proper Greek landscape.
‘We’re waiting for the next water tanker,’ our orderly, who had introduced himself as ‘Michael but Mike’s fine so it is’, in an Irish accent. ‘These Greeks have a terrible water shortage, so they do. The tankers’ll come and fill the ships with drinking water, so they will.’
Josephine and I proceeded to the mess for an amazing breakfast that consisted of great wedges of nutty brown bread sprinkled with rich, dark green olive oil and crunchy sea salt, then plain biscuits and solid blackcurrant jam. Strong, sweet tea and a glass of watered-down lime juice accompanied the meal.
‘That was so good,’ I said, rubbing my full stomach.
‘So it was,’ Josephine added, and we both laughed.
The ship’s Matron, was a stick-insect with gaunt features, a whispery voice, and hair pulled into a long, grey-streaked bunch more reminiscent of an old nag than a pony tail. She found us in the dining room. ‘Ah, here you are. As you’re both experienced, from tomorrow you’ll work on wards two and three – that’s intensive care – until we dock in Southampton.’
We both nodded. ‘Thank you, Matron.’
‘However, the ship won’t be leaving until after dark, nurses, so you’re permitted to go ashore. Make the most of a last day of freedom, but be sure you’re back on board by eight hundred hours.’ She walked away, but then turned sharply. ‘Oh, and if you find any loukoumi, I’m very partial.’ She flashed long, narrow tobacco-stained teeth in the semblance of a smile, then disappeared in a flurry of nurses.
I blinked at Josephine, she shrugged. ‘What’s loukoumi? ’ I asked.
‘Turkish delight,’ she said quietly.
‘Why don’t they just say “Turkish delight”?’
‘Shhh. Keep your voice down! You’re not allowed to use the word’ – at that point she resorted to miming Turkish – ‘in this country unless you want your throat cut. They’re arch enemies.’
‘But that seems completely mad when they’re neighbours; why?’
Josephine looked over each shoulder dramatically. ‘I’m not saying. Not too sure, perhaps because they’re on opposite sides. There’s even an issue around who invented “Turkish” delight. Apparently, it should be called Greek delight. Anyway, if we see some loukoumi we should buy it for Rapunzel there. Get on her good side so we’re not allocated dysentery duty or the syphilis ward.’ She nodded towards the group of nurses that had surrounded Matron.
‘Syphilis ward?’
Josephine glanced at me and rolled her eyes. ‘Not now, Gertie.’
*
The cassette tape is nearly at its end, dear listener, but I want you to know that I’m telling you these things in the hope you’re hearing them long after my death. I pray you’ll appreciate my feelings, not judge me, and know that through all my adventures I was always doing my best for my departed siblings, my beloved parents, and my country. However, love has a mind of its own, and I am going to be frank. Cupid may or may not have pierced your heart with his mischievous arrow by the time you listen to these meanderings. I want to be completely honest, and will leave nothing out. So, listen on if you dare, and perhaps you’ll understand.
CHAPTER 39
SHELLY
Greece, present day.
FOUR HOURS LATER, SHELLY STEPPED outside Athens airport into the warm sunny day. So much had happened since the last time she’d stood outside this airport. ‘I’m here, Harry,’ she spoke softly into her phone. ‘I’ll be leaving for Kea on the seven o’clock ferry; can’t wait to see you.’
‘The same here,’ he said. A pause while they both enjoyed the moment. ‘How do you feel about going straight to the Beach Taverna for a light dinner?’ Harry asked, his heavy accent almost growled the words.
‘Gorgeous man with hungry woman, sunny Greek island, good food at the edge of the sea, amazing sunset?’ She almost giggled, intoxicated by happiness. ‘Now let me think . . . mmm, yes, it sounds quite perfect.’
There was a pause and she knew he was grinning too. ‘Then I’ll meet you off the ferry, we’ll go to Popi’s to eat, drop your cases off, then take it from there.’ The warmth of all he promised, and everything that was left unsaid, resonated in his voice.
‘Lovely, I can’t wait.’ She sighed into the phone. ‘See you later.’ She ended the call, turned her face towards the sun and closed her eyes.
When she arrived on the quayside, he was there, and slipped his arm around her waist. She wanted to kiss him, but knew such public behaviour was frowned upon in Greece, and the restriction only heightened her excitement. He turned his face to hers as they walked.
‘You didn’t forget me then?’ he asked.
‘How could I, silly?’ They stopped for a moment, peering into each other’s eyes, the moment so intense she held her breath.
‘Let’s drop your bag off on the way to the taverna . . . and perhaps you want to freshen up before we eat?’
‘Dropping the bags off sounds good. I managed to freshen up in Athens airport. There’s a shower and such in the priority lounge.’ There was an urgency between them, trying to remain polite, both desperate to be in each other’s arms.
‘May I?’ he said, the moment they stepped inside her room. He kissed her, leaning his body towards hers, the moment heavy with building passion.
‘Stop now,’ she whispered. ‘We must go and eat.’ She wanted him so badly.
At the taverna table, his leg pressed against hers. Her hand slid across the table, the tip of her middle finger connecting with his.
‘Oh, yes.’
They ate, hardly looking at the food, their eyes meeting in a sensual dance. Dawn would come too soon.
*
She woke before daylight, lying curled against his body in the dark, listening to the sound of the sea. Now she was exactly where she wanted to be. Later, he would introduce her to the Britannic’s dive team. Although there was no chance of diving with them, he had secured her a place on the dive boat. Shelly would assist Elias, Harry’s son. Harry’s phone-alarm beeped. He stirred, slung an arm across and turned it off without opening his eyes. ‘Come on,’ he mumbled. ‘Pull some clothes on, your turtles are hatching.’
‘You’re kidding?’
‘No, chop-chop.’
From the sound of his voice, she feared he would go back to sleep. She leapt out of bed and turned the big light on.
Harry’s face scrunched. ‘Evil woman.’
She laughed, pure joy exploding inside her chest as she slung her camera around her neck. Five minutes later, they bustled out of the door and headed for the beach across the road. Harry handed her a torch. ‘It’s infrared. No need to worry about it disorientating the turtles. They won’t see it.’
She smiled at him, resisting the urge to say, I know.
‘I don’t want to walk along the sand in case we step on other nests. Let’s walk along the water’s edge,’ she suggested. They slipped their shoes off, left them on the pavement, then strolled, side by side in the shallows until they came to the right spot. ‘It’s here, Harry,’ she whispered.
They stopped and shone their red torchlight onto the sand. ‘I don’t see any movement, perhaps it’s still too warm.’
‘Ah, you know everything about them, yes?’ Harry said.
‘I know they’ll only emerge when the sand’s cool enough down there. The heat was still coming up from the tarmac when I got off the ferry, so it must have been a very hot day. Let’s go further along, perhaps there are others.’
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