Shelly shrugged as if it didn’t matter, but in fact, she was still smarting.

An early night was the order, although sleep would be difficult with so much excitement bottled up for the next day.

‘You must go home, Harry,’ Shelly whispered, at the door of her apartment. ‘We both need a good night’s sleep.’

‘Ten minutes?’

‘Definitely not.’ Her body temperature rose as he pulled her towards him. Dusk slipped toward night and the darkening shadows seemed to intensify the salty-spicy fragrance of him. Her heart beat faster as his face came inescapably close and for a moment, urgent feelings of desire almost overpowered her resolve.

She longed to tell him how much she wanted him at that moment, but she resisted. People’s lives depended on a clear head tomorrow.

His sweet mouth covered hers. Her hips pressed against his. She wanted him so fiercely that for a few seconds, she couldn’t breathe – then she was panting. Her determination weakened; they were almost swaying in the erotic dance as old as mankind. ‘Stop!’ she said quietly. ‘Not now . . . you really must go. We both need a good night’s sleep. Tomorrow night, I promise we’ll more than make up for this abstinence.’

‘I’ll hold you to that,’ he growled, tugging her against his body one last time, before walking away.

‘Tomorrow night, I swear you can hold me to anything you like.’

*

The next morning, everyone scuttled about doing their individual jobs. Little was said, no one wanted distractions, yet tension and excitement mounted with every passing minute. Although there had only been two deaths on the wreck in the past hundred and fifteen years, everyone feared another on their watch.

Divers would be on the Britannic for forty-five minutes with the remotely operated vehicle’s camera watching and relaying its video to the dive boat monitors. The ROV would also keep check that the decompression bell did not shift in the current.

The ROV relayed images of the divers which were illuminated by the super powerful lights of two one-man submersibles. ‘Look at that! The visibility’s exceptional – it must be over a hundred feet!’ Harry said. They all leaned closer to the monitors as one of the world’s most magnificent liners loomed up out of the blue.

The Britannic lay on its starboard bow, facing south.

Shelly watched a pair of divers glide along the open and covered promenade deck. She recalled Gran Gertie’s description of the area in a violent storm when a diver, swept off his feet by a giant wave, was saved by his lifeline. Difficult to imagine that squall while looking at the peaceful wonderland of the marine gardens, with colourful fish and delicate coral-encrusted railings. Powered by diver propulsion vehicles, the men moved effortlessly over the vessel towards the stern.