‘And if I was pregnant, would my life be spared, or would they still hang me after my baby was born?’

My father’s eyes widened and his mouth fell slightly open, but he said nothing.

I was so overcome I could not draw breath. Darkness invaded from the corners of my eyes, and everything rushed away. Suddenly I was in hell, swinging from a rope in the void demanded by justice, all for my wrongdoing.

A burning sensation in my nostrils brought me back to now and the smelling salts that father wafted under my nose. Then I was in his arms, sobbing violently.

‘We’ll get through this, Gertie, poor, poor child,’ he said, holding me against his chest as I wept.

Once Father had gone, I sat alone in my cell and studied Gray’s Anatomy until I fell asleep. The muscles and bones, brains, eyes and organs on the pages all came back to me in my dreams as I had seen them in the operating theatre, then I saw them tossed in the water around the Britannic’s propeller. In the purple and black of a gangrene nightmare I fell through the hangman’s trapdoor onto a heap of mashed bodies and gore and found myself screaming for all I was worth.

‘Miss! Miss!’ the sergeant cried. ‘You’re having a nightmare, wake up now!’

He was a decent fellow, and I could see he felt sorry for me. ‘I’ll make you some cocoa and we’ll see if we can get you out of here tomorrow.’

*

When father returned to my cell, he informed me I had no post at home. My heart plummeted. So I would accept Perkins’s proposal, even though we had little in common apart from the Britannic. He wanted to run off and fix broken vehicles, I needed to heal the wounded and nurse the sick. We were destined to hardly see each other before the end of the war.

‘Gertie, I have some great news,’ Perkins told me the following day. ‘There’s a shortage of mechanics now, and the government is accepting some amputees for certain posts that are not affected by their condition.’

‘That’s wonderful news, Johnathan.’

‘I received my papers this morning. I long to go, but of course I cannot leave you while you are harassed like this. Marry me immediately, Gertie Smith, before I return to the war. Make me the happiest man on earth. If you do, I’ll go straight to the press and I’ll tell them I’m sure you didn’t open the portholes.’

I stared at Perkins, then at the ring. I knew this would be the solution to all my problems and would make him immensely happy, but it would not mend my broken heart.

‘Please, Gertie, do me the honour of becoming my wife. I can get a special licence. We can be married in the fortnight.’