Page 49 of Summer in Greece

She felt the shaking of her shoulder and in an instant, she was back in the present with Harry beside her, his eyes questioning. He held out a hand, wiggled and tilted it from side to side, asking if something was wrong. Shelly shook her head, then nodded, made the OK sign, and realised she was holding her breath. She made a conscious effort to calm herself and concentrate on her breathing.

God, oh, God! Would it ever go away? The past . . . the nightmare.

Suddenly, she didn’t want to see DJ. To explain why she’d left him was too much to live through once again. She had almost buried her awful history. Every year, every dive, the nightmare faded a little more. Now DJ would want her to dig it all up again, and re-live the pain, just when she felt ready to move on.

She could still feel Harry’s eyes on her. He tapped his watch. Time to ascend. She felt the tightness of sobs trapped in her chest, tears stinging, steaming her mask. Then her lamp caught the drape of fishnet again. The fabric of her nightmares. It jerked and shivered as if alive in their perfectly still surroundings. She nodded towards the vast curtain of yellow nylon. He followed her gaze, then they moved together towards it, to investigate.

CHAPTER 20

GERTIE

Greece, 1916.

‘AH, THERE YOU ARE, MISS Smith,’ Matron said. ‘I haven’t had a chance to voice my pride in you. Very commendable action in the boat, you certainly saved the young soldier’s life with your transfusion of blood.’ She had a way of rolling her shoulders and pulling in her chin before she gave an order, as if rising to her own authority. ‘As you know, there are a hundred and fifty of us, here on the island. Everyone else was taken to the port of Piraeus. We’ll be collected shortly but that Corporal you helped to save needs immediate medical attention. I want you to observe the amputation of his lower leg this afternoon.’

I had never attended an operation before and I found myself both thrilled and horrified to be invited.

‘How is he, Matron?’

‘We’ve packed the wound in salt to prevent infection, but this causes the patient unbearable pain. Better to remove the shattered bone and prepare a good stump ready for a prosthetic. The sooner it heals, the sooner we can fit him with an artificial limb. Come now, help scrub out the school room ready for the surgeon.’

I hugged my abdomen as I stood.

‘Are you all right?’

‘Just a little bruising where the dolphin hit me,’ I said. ‘I’ll be fine when the swelling goes down.’

‘Come inside, let me take a look.’

*

Matron removed my apron and helped me onto two tables pushed together. I undid my button-fronted dress, and she opened my corset and combinations, and examined my abdomen. ‘Have you any pain in your left shoulder?’

‘No, Matron, it’s just where the bruise is.’

‘I’m concerned you might have suffered some internal damage. The surgeon will come and look at you. Stay on the table.’ She spread a modesty sheet over my unbuttoned dress.

The surgeon, Dr Raymond, pressed and pummelled from sternum to pelvis, concentration rigid on his face as he mapped my innards in his mind.

He turned to Matron. ‘Her bruising is consistent with a severe blow. To make sure it’s nothing more serious, she must lay quietly on her back with no movement if she can help it. Keep her corset on for support, but not too tight. That garment probably saved her from a ruptured spleen. I’ll take another look tomorrow.’

‘Right, let’s get you into the other school room with the patients,’ Matron said, before calling over a couple of the Britannic’s crew who were seconded as stretcher-bearers.

In the temporary hospital, my bed was next to Corporal Perkins. Poor Perkins moaned and whimpered, rolling his head from side to side. The patient to my left, with the head injury, was heavily bandaged and hardly conscious. There were four other casualties.

‘Perkins!’ I called over. ‘It’s me, Gertie.’

‘The nurse?’ He continued to display his awful pain.

‘Yes. Listen, they’re going to operate on you soon. You’ll feel better when they’ve sorted you out and cleaned the wound.’

‘I’ve lost my foot, so why’s it such absolute agony? I’m going mad here – mad – I wish I’d died!’

‘You’ll be fine. It’s the salt, that’s all. It’s saving you from gangrene. Try and tell yourself that. Just the salt, Perkins.’

‘Just the salt. Just the salt.’ Then he let out a bone-crunching holler. ‘Put me to sleep! You wouldn’t let a dog suffer like this. Why me?’

‘Think about the future when you’ve got your new foot. They say you can hardly tell these days. Also, you’re out of the war. Isn’t that grand, Perkins? You’ll be down at the Pally dancing the tango with beautiful women before you know it.’ I stared across at him, conscious of his intense discomfort, my eyes aching with unshed tears. My punishment for allowing myself to be bullied, wanting to look important and in control of my patients. If only I hadn’t opened the portholes! At that moment, I’d have done anything to take away the Corporal’s awful pain.