He placed his hands on my shoulders, his eyes sparkling. Conscious of another new sensation that startled me, I folded my arms over my tingling nipples and wondered if that was normal. I must ask Josephine, she seemed to know everything. Manno’s face became intensely serious. ‘I have no more words for you,’ he said. ‘Just this . . .’ He lifted my chin and brushed my lips with his.

I stepped back and gasped, shocked by his lack of manners. To behave in such a bold way, and in public too! Somebody shouted, ‘Bravo! ’ and started clapping, and I hopped it had nothing to do with me. I felt everyone’s eyes boring into me. I should slap him! Such effrontery, my parents would expect me to retaliate, defend my reputation. How dare he kiss me . . . without asking . . . and on the lips . . . this was too shocking!

With a huff, I lifted my chin, spun on my heel, and headed for the ship.

‘Goodbye, koukla mou!’ he cried. ‘I love you! Until we meet again!’

The blaze in my cheeks would have lit a bonfire. Yet still, I turned and glanced back one last time before entering the vessel that would lead me to my destiny.

Oh, Manno!

*

On board the Athena, I shared a cabin with Nurse Josephine. We divided the cabin space, and set about arranging our meagre belongings. No sooner had we organised ourselves, a knock sounded on the door and an orderly presented us with instructions to report to the medical station.

‘Right, here we go,’ Josephine said, smoothing down her apron. ‘Let’s find out what they have in mind for us. Where are we headed?’

We hurried along behind the orderly, a frowning man who avoided our eyes, clearly uncomfortable in the presence of women. The ship had a confining atmosphere, nothing like the spacious Britannic. Corridors were narrow and dim, and two sailors walking in the opposite direction had to flatten themselves against the wall so we could pass. The floors, walls, and even the low ceilings were metal, giving a great feeling of strength, but also noisy and oppressive. We arrived at the medical station.

The surgeon was a tall, pale man with little hair and a neat, black moustache on a perfectly round face. Archibald Fitzgibbons reminded me of the peg dolls I made as a child. He offered Nurse Josephine and I a stiff little bow.

‘You’ll be pleased to know we shall arrive at the port of Mudros, which is the naval port of Lemnos, at 0500 hours, but you won’t be able to leave until 0700 hours. We have a ship full of medical supplies to disembark there and we don’t want you in the way.’

So Manno was right, we were leaving for Lemnos, not Britain.