The next morning, I woke, lonely and withdrawn, continually turning over my memories of the awful sinking. With no confidante, I kept everyone at a distance in case, in a moment of self-pity, I dared to confess what I was responsible for. Why did I open the portholes and cause all those people to die such a horrible death? I was so upset, my insides trembled violently. No matter what I did, no matter how hard I tried, I could never give Corporal Perkins his leg back, or give those poor unfortunates their lives back. I was condemned to suffer for them all, and then burn in hell.

The compensation was mine to give, and I could start to even up the scale by making Corporal Perkins as happy as possible. This wasn’t difficult. He kept telling me he was sweet on me. In truth, this gave me a thrill because I liked him too. If Manno hadn’t come along, complicating things, I could have liked Corporal Perkins above all others. Yes, I could even have loved him.

But I feared Manno had stolen my heart. Perhaps this was my punishment, to relinquish the man I loved for the man I was indebted to.

Outside, on the quayside, the sun sparkled on the water. A black and white cat romped with its kittens. A seagull strutted across a boat canopy. Women rushed to and from the bakery calling their greetings to each other, loudly, with determined merriment.

In the bakery, the intoxicating smell of fresh bread made my mouth water. I greeted everyone, as was the thing to do, and bought three loaves. Villagers patted me like a child, touched my uniform and my hair. Their happiness rubbed off, and I gave a loaf to Yiayá, and the other two to Josephine.

Breakfast, which I ate with Nurse Josephine and Corporal Perkins, consisted of warm, creamy milk over a brown rusk, and strong, bitter-sweet coffee.

Josephine said, ‘Your pigeon will have arrived in Athens, and they’re probably sending a tickertape to England right now. It will arrive at your home town any minute, Gertie. I’m sure your parents will be relieved to hear you’re in good health.’ She spoke quietly, without her usual smile.

‘Thanks to you and your care, Josephine. I am beyond grateful.’

‘Just doing my job.’

‘What about your parents, do they know you’re safe? Where are you from?’

‘Tipton, north of Birmingham.’ She lowered her eyes for a moment. ‘My parents were killed in their beds by a Zeppelin bomb, in January this year.’

‘Gosh, how awful. I’m terribly sorry. I can hardly imagine what you’ve been going through.’

‘The raid was meant for Liverpool,’ she went on. ‘High winds blew the Zeppelin off track. My parents and sixty other village people perished that night.’ She lifted a napkin and revealed three apples on a dish.