‘Now, now, young lady.’ A man was bending over her. ‘I’m a doctor. You just lie still.’

‘But Danny – is he safe? Please, I must . . .’

The doctor jerked his head at one of the soldiers who had carried her down, ‘See what you can find out. She’s obviously very distressed.’

The soldier gave Kate’s arm a swift pat. ‘Don’t worry, Miss. One of our lot dived in when your boat capsized. He got to you first, but he’s still looking for – who is it? Danny?’

Weakly, Kate nodded. She sank back against the pillow as exhaustion claimed her.

‘That’s better. Leave it to the lads. They’ll find him.’

Kate closed her eyes and sent up a silent prayer. ‘Oh please, dear Lord, please let them find him!’

Later, warm and dry and placed in a bed alongside other casualties aboard the hospital ship, Kate still fretted for news of Danny. The ship was so crowded that the beds in the ward had been pushed close together and men lay on the floor on stretchers or just on blankets.

‘It’s bloody murder up top,’ one of the stretcher bearers said, as they struggled to find a clear space to put down their burden. ‘The deck’s that crammed, fellers are lying on top of each other.’

It wasn’t much better down here, Kate thought ruefully, glancing round. There was scarcely a clear foot of floor space between the soldiers. The nursing sisters of the Queen Alexandra’s Nursing Service had to step carefully over patients to tend the wounded. The ward was filled with the sounds of groaning and coughing, and now and then a scream of agony.

Kate raised herself a little. ‘Please – do you know if the young man from the little fishing boat has been rescued?’

The stretcher-bearer shrugged his shoulders. ‘Sorry, Miss . . .’ He turned away and bent over a soldier whose whole face seemed to be a mass of congealed blood, a filthy bandage round his head.

Kate bit her lip. No one seemed to know down here what had happened to Danny and no one had time to go and find out for her.

She became aware that someone in the next bed was watching her. Kate turned her head to find herself looking into the bluest eyes she had ever seen in a man. His fair hair was short and curly, brushed straight back from his broad forehead. His face was lightly tanned yet there were rings of exhaustion around his eyes. His left arm was freshly bandaged, but instead of a proper white sling, his arm was still supported by her scarf.

It was the airman she had cradled in her arms and willed to live.