‘In the week I do. I work from home building travel websites, so I’m always around.’ He glanced into her face, looking for approval, perhaps, caring what she thought. ‘But at the weekends, I’m a lifeguard at the sports centre. I hate to leave her, but I’ll lose my job if I don’t go in, and the websites don’t pay that well while I’m building a name for myself.’

‘That’s where I’ve seen you. At the baths. I used to go every Saturday afternoon, but I haven’t been since Christmas,’ she said, taking another glance at his face and decided he was even better looking close up.

He frowned. ‘Then I must have seen you there.’ Again, he studied her face. ‘But I don’t recognise you.’

‘I wear a yellow swim cap and goggles.’

‘Ah, that’s you?’ He grinned. ‘You’re good, fast, strong, but you need to work on your turns.’

‘You’ve been watching me? That’s creepy.’

‘Not creepy at all. It’s my job to watch the swimmers. That’s what I’m paid for.’

Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

GERTIE

Dover, 1916.

THAT AFTERNOON, MOTHER AND I stood before Sissy’s grave. ‘Promise you’ll come back, Gertie. I don’t need a hero.’ She took my hand and squeezed it. ‘You’re my only child now. I couldn’t bear to lose you too.’

‘Mother, it’s the safest ship on the water, ask Father. Nothing bad is going to happen. Stop worrying.’

The last autumn leaves tumbled down around us in a sudden gust. I peered into the bare branches and wondered if Sissy was sending her blessings. ‘I won’t let you down,’ I whispered.

‘I know,’ Mother answered, dabbing her nose with a lace handkerchief.

*

Back home, I went straight to my room and pulled the Huntley & Palmers tin from the back of my writing desk. Inside, lay all Sissy’s letters from the munitions factory, and from the isle of Lemnos, before her sickness and death.

I’d read them so often the corners were dog-eared. With the tin in my lap, I sat quietly, recalling how pleased she was that women were at last stepping up the ladder of equality. I unfolded the top letter and heard her sweet voice as I read.

Dearest Gertie,

How I miss you! I wish you were here in glorious Greece. There are beautiful beaches and beautiful men, and days of endless sunshine. You would love it. Life is very different here in the field hospital. All day yesterday and through the night we heard the boom of guns, and the night nurses say the windows in the surgical hut rattled. It was the loudest I have heard so far, and every time I hear them, the words of one of our patients come to my mind: ‘Some poor devils are going to keep you busy.’