Page 39 of Summer in Greece

‘But how on earth will we get home?’ I whispered to myself.

I promise I’ll never give up, Father!

If he hadn’t insisted on that ridiculous thing! Me in my father’s long johns, slumped over the dining-table protector cork, my father yelling orders at me. Kick, Gertie, kick!

The child inside me rose, needing the guidance of an adult. A child desperate to be told that everything would be all right, that it wasn’t my fault. I glanced at the other end of Perkins, the concern on everyone’s faces. He was maimed for life. There are penalties for wrongdoing and at that moment, I feared I should be hung for this.

No, no, don’t even think such things!

I was going mad with the worry, but one wrong had led to another and somebody should pay. I shouldn’t have lied about my age, that was the start of it all. One small, simple lie had led to this carnage, and I had a terrible feeling it wasn’t over. ‘I’m not fit to be left in charge – to use my initiative.’

The chaplain stared at me, trying to make sense of my jumbled words. ‘I don’t think you should give any more blood, child,’ he said. ‘You’re in danger of becoming a little hysterical.’

I fought the temptation to tell him that I had opened the portholes. Perhaps all the Corporal’s fellow patients had perished. I hung my head. I had to do everything I could to try and save his life.

Nobody must ever know I was responsible, but what if Perkins told, and what would his reaction be when he discovered he’d lost a foot? Yet what difference would the truth make to anyone now? I must take my secret to the grave, and along my journey through life, I swore I would do everything I could to atone for the terrible thing I’d done.

The Corporal’s eyes fluttered and opened a little. ‘I died,’ he slurred. ‘I find myself in the arms of an angel.’

I stroked his cheek. ‘Behave, Corporal. Heaven’s full enough after today, so you’re on leave for a while.’ A splash on his cheek confused me for a moment, then I realised it was one of my tears.

His eyes narrowed. ‘My head feels pretty close to Heaven already, nurse.’

Realising the proximity of the soldier’s head to my woman parts, I felt myself blushing again. ‘I’m warning you, Corporal Perkins, any nonsense and you’ll be over the side.’

He closed his eyes and smiled. ‘Don’t cry, nurse, I’ll look after you. Do I have all my limbs?’

I looked at the surgeon. He put a finger to his lips and shook his head.

‘As far as I can see,’ I said. ‘It’s difficult to tell. But you’d better make sure you keep control of them, or you’ll find yourself in a greater predicament.’ I held his head to my chest to prevent him from looking down and seeing his elevated leg. He turned his head towards my breasts, smiled, and closed his eyes again. He became so still, I wondered if he was still conscious.

The surgeon took his pulse and smiled at me. ‘That did it. Well done, nurse.’

Some distance away, I saw the Captain helped from the raft into a lifeboat, then he boomed orders through a megaphone. We were too far away to make out his instructions. On the horizon, the grey shapes of two battleships approached. Not knowing if they were friend or foe, we were all relieved when a small, brightly painted caïque came alongside with a rounded but rustic skipper at the prow and a younger man at the tiller.

I stared at the old fisherman. His loose, tanned skin folded over the bones of his face like warm toffee. Thick, wind-dried lips smiled from below a hedge of silver moustache. His teeth were mismatched, and tobacco-stained, and his elbows stuck through holes in his dishevelled jumper. When he beamed reassuringly, deep crow’s feet around his eyes concertinaed like a brown paper fan.

Clearly pleased to rescue our lifeboat, the man boomed words in Greek that nobody understood, yet they were comforting as my mother’s hug after a nightmare. He poked himself in the chest with his thumb. ‘Yianni! Yianni!’ Pointing at the younger sailor at the stern, he yelled, ‘Manno! Manno!’

The powerful little fishing boat fixed a line and tugged our vessel to a natural harbour on Kea, just over a mile away. However, due to the strong current and overladen boat, it took us two hours to cover the short distance to safety.

We soon learned the fishermen were father and son. They helped everyone onto the quayside. Stretchers were brought for Corporal Perkins and Josephine, who had regained consciousness and refused to be treated like an invalid. Manno reached out and took my hands – his big brown eyes comforting, yet at the same time, mischievous. Under his gaze I felt safe, yet flustered. The moment I stood on firm ground a stab of pain rose from my ankle. Everything swayed and my knees buckled. Manno swept me up against his wide chest and then set me down on an old trunk that stood against the harbour wall.

‘I’ll come back for you, koukla,’ he said. ‘Sit here.’

Relieved that he spoke English, I watched him take command of shaken men and distraught women with his steady, reassuring manner.

I had not experienced shock before. One moment I felt in control, capable of helping others – the next, my head was in my hands and I wept bitterly. Someone touched my shoulder.

‘Stiff upper lip, Miss Smith. We have to set an example,’ Matron Merriberry said.

‘Sorry, Matron.’ I sniffed hard and wiped my eyes.

‘Stay out here until your propriety’s restored, then come inside. The mayor of the island is on his way. We’re having a meeting in half an hour and I want to see you setting an example.’ Her voice softened. ‘It’s been a shocking day, but remember to thank the Lord we weren’t in that first lifeboat. If you hadn’t taken so long, we might not be here now – isn’t that a fact? What held you up?’

‘It was my sister’s book, Matron. I’d forgotten it and couldn’t bear to leave it behind. They said collect your valuables, you see, and that is the most valuable thing I own. In an odd way, I do believe Sissy saved our lives with her picture in that book.’

Matron rushed away as if she herself couldn’t stand the thought.