Summer in Greece

by Patricia Wilson

  ‘Gertie Smith, sir.’

  I guess he hadn’t expected an answer because he guffawed. ‘Damned audacious girl, if you ask me.’

  From that moment, Rumley took every opportunity to give me the most awful jobs and there were moments when I hated him, but as the challenges grew, so did my determination. It was mid-March before he took twenty minutes to talk me through the procedure. When the next leg amputation was completed that afternoon, he stood back and said, ‘Go on then, now’s your chance, nurse.’

  I felt nothing but intense concentration as I forged on with a steady hand. Once I’d cut that final thread, I wanted to leap in the air! Both thrilled and obscurely terrified, I whispered, ‘I did it!’ as I met the surgeon’s smiling eyes.

  *

  At night, tiredness, pressure, and fear of failing as a nurse, dampened my anxiety and shame over what had happened on HMHS Britannic. Sometimes, I would forget that I had opened the portholes and caused the great ship to sink before it reached land. Yet those darkest memories often surfaced in the early hours, when sleep was too precious to waste on things that would not change. Those bodies tossed in the air, only to be dismembered by propeller blades on their inevitable return. The screaming, my drowning, the dolphin, Sissy’s precious watch, they all jostled against each other, pushing back sleep and claiming space in my mind.

  During the daytime, my handsome Corporal Perkins often came to mind. I imagined the Corporal learning to dance on his prothesis. Never complaining, but always trying to do better.

  Memories of Manno were a different story. They roared with tumbling, tantalising passion until my spine arched and my body tingled in the most delicious way. I wrote to him several times, but never received a reply. When he entered my thoughts, I longed for him, and wished so many things I could never say aloud or even put down on paper. I recalled the way he peered at me from under those long, dark, lashes – and the tender fullness of his mouth against mine when he kissed me. Oh! How I longed to kiss him again . . . longer, harder, deeper. There was no doubt in my mind, I was in love with Manno.

  *

  The following week, we were overloaded with work. Josephine and I often missed our evening meal and made do with dry bread and chicken soup, followed by strong cocoa provided by an understanding orderly who cared a lot for Josephine. However, we made sure we got to the dining room on the Monday, when Matron made the draw. That Monday, we were a little late for dinner and heard our names called as we entered the mess. A great thrill raced through me. At last, I believed, we had won a day away. We turned sharply and headed for the top table, both of us trying to reduce our grins to ladylike smiles.

  ‘Eat, pack your belongings, and report to HMHS Gabriel on the port at precisely nineteen hundred hours,’ Matron ordered. ‘You’re going home.’

  CHAPTER 37

  SHELLY

  Dover, present day.

  ‘SO, DJ, YOU HAVE TO know something about Gran Gertie,’ Shelly said. ‘She was a rebel. Fought for the vote and women’s rights with the suffragettes. Lied about her age so she could go and do nursing work in troubled countries she’d never heard of. As we understand so far, she was involved with events that unfortunately led to the sinking of the greatest passenger liner in the world, HMHS Britannic, though we won’t have all the facts until we’ve listened to the rest of her memoirs. She’s got us on the edge of our seats at the moment though.

  ‘She recorded her own life story? That takes some courage, you know, she sounds like a real tough woman. Makes me feel proud.’

  It was Shelly who felt proud, her heart melting to hear her son speak like that. ‘Well, not brutally tough in the way we imagine. It seems she was always afraid of one thing or another, and as she was only eighteen when she went to war, she was unbelievably naïve, especially when it came to young men.’

  Shelly told DJ about the cassette and tapes. ‘We’ll make you a copy too, if you’re interested.’

  His smile was slightly mocking in a mischievous way. ‘No, you don’t need to do all that, just upload them to the Cloud. You only do it the once, then we’ll all be able to access them at any time.’

  Shelly and Gordon stared at him, then at each other.

  ‘The Cloud, Dad,’ Shelly said with mock seriousness. ‘Get onto it, will you?’

  ‘Right, our Shelly. I’ll just give Bill Gates a call, an’ tell him I need a hand, all right?’

  DJ grinned at them, strong, white, even teeth like his father, Shelly thought.

  ‘I can come and do it next weekend if you like.’

  ‘I’ll be away in Greece next weekend, near where your great-great-grandmother’s ship went down.’

  ‘But you must still come for Sunday lunch,’ Gordon cut in. ‘I’ll be here with Bill, and we could fire up the old steam engine. Anyway, why don’t you come for the weekend? Yer mother’s convinced we’ll be up to no good, or that we’ll burn the house down.’

  DJ glanced at Shelly.

  ‘Nothing would please me more,’ she said. ‘You can have my room, keep an eye on this old rogue.’

  ‘Aye! Watch who you’re calling old!’

  DJ laughed and glanced from one to the other. ‘I’d love to, why not? I can cook for you, if you like, Gramps.’

  Gordon grinned. ‘I’d like that.’

  Shelly rolled her eyes. ‘I can see you two are going to be trouble!’

  DJ threw her a grin. ‘Look, why don’t I come early and run you to the airport? Meanwhile, let’s upload a cassette right now? The longest part is playing a tape. We can all listen to a cassette, then you can continue uploading more after I’ve gone, or tomorrow. Whatever.’

  ‘A wonderful idea, if it’s not too much trouble,’ Shelly said. ‘Let me make tea or coffee while we listen to Gran Gertie for half an hour.’

  ‘No, I’ll make the drinks while you two see what’s inside the pillow-bag,’ Gordon said.

  *

  The room fell silent as the three stared at the contents of Gertie’s bag. Shelly pulled her uniform onto a hanger and hooked it onto the picture rail. Gordon studied an enamel plate, bowl, and mug, knife, fork and spoon. Shelly ran her hand over the beautifully embroidered underwear. Under this lay another uniform and a bundle of letters that they were all curious to read, but decided to save for another Sunday. There would be many more such Sunday lunches, and the knowledge brought each of them a peculiar warmth.

  Shelly stepped back in order to take in the bigger picture. Her father and son were united for the first time – a most amazing moment. She reached for her phone and took a quick snap before anyone noticed. She slipped her arm around Gordon’s shoulders and gave him a little squeeze.

  Gordon and DJ were in deep conversation.

  ‘’Ere, it happened like this,’ Gordon said, lifting Gertie’s mug. ‘Each mornin’ before I went off to the docks on me bike, yer grandmother, Margarete her name was but she was always Maggie to me, she’d make me tea in an enamel mug just like this one, to take with me.’

  ‘How did that work, Gramps? You couldn’t take a mug of tea on your bike.’ DJ glanced up, caught Shelly’s eye and winked.

  ‘No, we used a twist, everyone did. Wasn’t any teabags then, see. Hadn’t been invented. Maggie ripped a square off the bread bag, they was waxed paper in them days. In the middle of the square she’d put a big spoon of tea leaves, three spoons of sugar, and a tablespoon of sweetened, condensed milk. She twisted the top round tightly and tucked it into me mug. At break time I just untwisted it, poured boiling water on, then fished out the paper.’

  ‘Ingenious! Did you have anything with it?’

  ‘Scones with a lovely great wedge of best butter. A great baker of scones was your grandmother.’ He stared at his slippers for a moment. ‘She was a wonderful woman, my Maggie.’

  ‘Don’t be sad, Gramps. I want to hear everything about you and my grandmother. I’m sure she was lovely. But you know what? I’d better put the tape on if I’m going to get the first one saved this afterno
on. Is everyone ready? Right, check the lead’s plugged in, OK. Right, this is what you do. Start the tape . . .’

  *

  ‘Sounds like she was quite a girl, our Gertie,’ DJ said. ‘If I’m descended from her, I’d like to trace my family tree. Who did she marry?’

  Shelly shrugged. ‘I’m hoping to learn that from the tapes. What do you know, Dad?’

  ‘Now that would be telling. Gertie wanted you to hear the facts from her, so you have to wait.’

  DJ grinned, loving Gordon’s mischief. He turned to Shelly. ‘Tell me about your holiday, Mum.’ His eyes flicked to hers, testing the word again.

  ‘Wreck diving, wildlife and travel photography, and chill. Diving’s my passion. The Greek seabed’s littered with ships, and I’ve visited quite a few – but I only discovered the wrecks of Kea recently. To tell the truth, I was going to cancel. Worried about Dad, you know?’

  ‘Sounds exciting. Look, if it makes you feel better, I’ll keep an eye on Gordon.’

  ‘Aye, don’t talk about me like I’m not here!’

  ‘Sorry, Gramps.’ DJ’s smile turned to a frown and a distant look came to his eyes. ‘Don’t I remember you saying my dad wanted to be a diver?’

  ‘’Ere, he doesn’t know what happened, does he, Shelly?’

  Shelly shook her head. The room tilted. She struggled to speak. ‘Yes. David was teaching me to snorkel,’ she muttered closing her eyes. In an instant, she could see him through her mask, her scream weird in the snorkel tube, then she realised she was holding her breath. Startled, she filled her lungs and then groaned as the past flooded through her. ‘It was a long time ago, DJ. A year in my life that I’d rather forget.’ She went over to the window and stared into the darkness so her father and son could not see the lie, or the tears. With the tips of her fingers, she blotted the tears that had gathered in the corners of her eyes. She felt them watching, and the silence behind her said they’d caught the quiver in her voice.

  *

  The next weekend, Shelly gazed through the windscreen, her thoughts miles away. She had a small suitcase of holiday clothes and a large suitcase of Gran Gertie’s memorabilia in the boot. She had worked hard to get Gertie’s nurse’s uniforms washed and ironed in time for the trip. Was she making a mistake, giving the family history away? After all, if things went south with Harry . . .

  She turned to touch the arm of her driver. ‘DJ, it was really good of you to stay the night, and run me to the airport on your way home. She tapped her forehead and shook her head. ‘It’s all happened so fast, I’m still reeling. Amazing that you had the courage to track me down. I thought hearts only broke with sadness, but my heart’s completely shattered by happiness. Thank you.’

  She sat in the passenger seat of DJ’s battered Beetle. Next to her feet was an odd sock that clearly needed a wash, and scattered around that, some small change, one and two pence coins mostly. Between the seats, a burger box stuffed with rubbish told her he had hurriedly tidied the car in her honour. She smiled, recalling her student days, then glanced at the fuel gauge.

  ‘Call in the next petrol station and let me fill her up.’

  After a gentle argument and the rationale that a taxi would have cost more, they arrived at the airport with almost a full tank. Shelly persuaded DJ to stay and have breakfast with her before she went through passport control and he continued to Cambridge.

  ‘I understand that you want to know about your father,’ she said. ‘It’s only natural. The thing is, I find it very difficult to talk about him. Although I was terribly young, I loved him very much. I still do in a way. He took away all my anger and self-blame about my mother’s death. I would certainly not have made it through to university if he hadn’t guided me back on track.’ She lowered her eyes and smiled. ‘We adored each other.’ She paused and quietly reminisced.

  ‘What happened?’ he asked.

  Shelly swallowed hard. ‘There was an accident. A terrible accident that happened abroad. I lied to my dad, he thought I was on a school trip. We went to a Greek island called Paros. David was going to teach me to dive. I hadn’t even used a snorkel before. I was so excited, mostly because I felt I’d grown up and that somebody loved me. You know how it is? I thought I was invincible. I guess it’s the same for all teenagers.’

  DJ nodded. ‘I’ve been there.’

  ‘Where, Paros?’

  ‘No, believing I’m invincible. Just growing out of it; realising I don’t know everything and if I don’t swot like hell, I won’t get my degree.’

  Shelly smiled sympathetically. ‘God, it’s so hard, isn’t it? Everyone reaches that point when it’s tempting to throw the towel in, DJ, but believe me, it’s worth the slog in the end.’

  ‘Sometimes, the pressure’s astronomical, and I’m convinced I’ll fail my finals. It’s easy to understand why people drop out. I mean, it sounds so wimpy, but hell, nobody knows . . .’

  ‘I know. I did it, and you’re my son. I’m damned sure you can do it too. I’m sure you’ll be fine come exam time. But you know what? If you fail, it’s no big deal. You can do it again. Don’t beat yourself up over it, just do your best.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  Her thoughts spooled back to that Greek holiday. ‘I told you about the bracelet, didn’t I? The one my mother was going to collect when she was hit by the car.’

  He nodded. ‘You did.’

  ‘Well, your dad, his friend Simon, and I stayed in the most beautiful little village in the world, Naoussa, on the island of Paros.’ She realised she was holding her wrist. ‘Although that bracelet had taken my mother from me, it sort of brought your father to me as well. How could I know it would take him away too?’

  The dangerous point of the story loomed. She strengthened herself by breathing steadily, staring at the table. Everything seemed to be linked in a way that she didn’t understand. Sometimes, she felt if she could only comprehend why it all happened to her, then the pain would go away. After a moment she found she could speak again.

  ‘I never took the bracelet off, even slept and bathed with it on. It was a solid hoop and a real struggle to get over my hand. I don’t know if it was the tanning oil I’d slathered on or the cool water, or a combination of both, but the bracelet slipped off while your father was teaching me to snorkel, on that first day.’ With her hand on her chest, she took a deep breath and let it out slowly. ‘Sorry, it’s hard to say, even after twenty years.’

  ‘Take your time. We can leave it for now if it’s too difficult.’

  ‘No, I want to tell you before I go. I was floating on the surface with my face in the water, proud of myself for learning to breathe with the snorkel. It was a bit scary at first, but I guess that’s the same for everyone.’ DJ nodded. She smiled, uplifted that he understood. ‘Anyway, your father dived to the seabed and picked a little white seashell off the bottom. He held it up. I stretched my arm down to take it, but as I did, the bracelet slipped off and fell right in front of his face. He tried to grab it but missed. I couldn’t believe my precious bracelet had come off. We were snorkelling over a sunken rowboat. The water was unbelievably clear, and the boat must have recently gone down because it still had a great bundle of fishing net in it, and I could see the oars in the bottom. It’s difficult to judge, but I guess the water was only around two and a half or three metres deep there, but I hadn’t learned to dive yet. I saw where the bracelet went and begged David to get it for me. I was wearing my mask, so I could see him clearly. He was showing off, and I was laughing inside.’ She paused, felt the danger of tears pricking again. This was the first time she had recounted those events for almost twenty years and she remembered how difficult it was then. The police, the vice-consulate, her father, the social workers, they had all insisted she go over the tragedy again and again. Saying the words was like ripping open old injuries.

  ‘That was our last joyous moment together. Our very final spark of happiness, locked in my chest forever.’ She didn’t have to close her eyes
to see him, his face turned up towards her, laughter in his eyes.

  She put her elbow on the table and her hand over her mouth. ‘As he reached for the bracelet, it seemed to scud along just out of his reach. He kicked his fins hard and made a grab for it, but his forward momentum disturbed the fishing net and it mushroomed up like an atomic explosion. His eyes were fixed on the bottom, looking for my bracelet, so he didn’t realise and . . . swam . . . right under it.’ She gasped. ‘Sorry.’ She held her hand up in a halting gesture – to stop DJ speaking – then she took some deep breaths. ‘When he turned to swim up, he got tangled in it. I could see . . .’ She had to stop again. ‘Sorry, do you think you could get us another coffee?’

  He nodded and without speaking, took their mugs for a refill. By the time he came back she had composed herself.

  ‘He was tangled in the net and couldn’t come to the surface for air because, they discovered later, there was also an anchor and chain in the bottom of the boat. I tried to dive down to him but I didn’t know how and kept bobbing up. I just . . . touched . . . his fingertips.’ She sobbed, stiffened her jaw, and struggled again to steady. ‘Excuse me.’ After a gulp of coffee, she bit her knuckle until it hurt so much she feared she would draw blood. ‘I spat out my snorkel and screamed and screamed for help.

  ‘Your father’s friend, Simon, and two water-sports guys were on the quayside. They jumped on a couple of jet skis but by the time they got to us, cut David free and got him back to land . . . Oh, God.’ Shelly hiccuped with grief. ‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘Difficult to . . . you know.’ She took a shuddering breath. ‘I was only sixteen, and two months later, I discovered I was pregnant with you.’ She reached forward and touched his hand, smiling into his face. ‘It was only the night before the accident that we, you know, for the first time. David was my only boyfriend, you understand?’ She managed to flatten a rising sob, relieved now that the ordeal of telling him was over. ‘You’re his double.’

  They sat in silence for a while, then DJ said, ‘What about my father’s parents?’