Cover

Praise for Patricia Wilson

Praise for

‘Full of raw emotion’

SUNDAY POST

‘I was engrossed and hanging on each and every word. This book will leave a lasting impression . . . [and is] one that I will find myself recommending to everyone I meet’

REA BOOK REVIEWS

‘We race to the end with our hearts thumping . . . Terrific stuff ’

LOVE READING

‘A beautiful, heartbreaking story of sacrifice and love in the face of evil’

FOR THE LOVE OF BOOKS

‘Full of raw emotions, family vendettas, hidden secrets and three very strong women’

THAT THING SHE READS

‘The perfect blend of fiction with historical fact’

SHAZ’S BOOK BLOG

‘Day by day the story unfolds . . . secrets are revealed, feuds revisited and three generations of women reunited’

PEOPLE’S FRIEND

‘Beautiful and evocative’

IT TAKES A WOMAN

‘I loved it’

ECHOES IN AN EMPTY ROOM

‘I absolutely LOVED, LOVED, LOVED this book . . . I can’t wait to read more from this hugely talented author’

GINGER BOOK GEEK

‘A very dramatic novel, one you cannot put down’

SOUTH WALES ARGUS

‘Thoroughly researched and very well written’

THAT THING SHE READS

‘The author writes in such an evocative and emotional style that the reader cannot help but get totally lost in the book’

KIM THE BOOKWORM

‘Attention to detail is second to none . . . I cannot praise this book enough and just hope that the author writes another book soon’

BOON’S BOOKCASE

Dedication

For nurses everywhere

Epigraph

ODE TO BRITANNIC’S BELL

Beneath a sea of turquoise karma

Lies a wreck with silenced drama,

HM Hospital Ship Britannic sleeps alone.

Crusty groupers watch and wait

Like Churchill, tired of the debate,

Did mine or missile send this fated lady home?

Gone are those for whom we weep

Those great explorers of the deep,

With tanks and fins and masks carefully cleared.

We’re thrilled, quite blown away,

How well-preserved Brit is today,

She fights the rusticals that scientists had feared.

To raise her up they say

Would not be the proper way

To remember all those souls so sadly drowned.

In a sea, that’s salt with tears,

On sands of time for countless years,

With coral garlands she is gloriously crowned.

Inside, explorers carefully glide,

Find safety doors are open wide

In firemen’s tunnels like a giant yawn for breath.

The current’s pulling like a gale,

The diver’s fins against it fail,

Another tragic ghost remains there after death.

Now time has trickled by,

‘Where’s the ship’s bell?’ the diver’s cry.

More than a hundred years have very slowly passed.

Then we hear a diver screech,

For lying just below his reach,

At great depth he found Britannic’s bell at last.

Patricia Wilson

Prologue

PROLOGUE

Dover, December 1916.