‘DJ, let me explain, I was seventeen, my mother had just died and my father was having some kind of breakdown. I was trying to study and work at the same time to get myself into university. I simply couldn’t cope with anything else. It was all too much.’ She gasped, dangerously close to losing it. ‘I’m sorry, really, but I can’t talk now.’

‘I can hear you’re upset; I don’t want that. Can I see you?’

‘Yes, all right.’ It might be best to meet somewhere, get it over with, or else he might turn up at the surgery, or stalk her, or call at White Cottage. ‘Why don’t you suggest something and let me know?’

‘I will, thank you.’

Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10

GERTIE

On HMHS Britannic, 1916.

STARING AT THE WONDERFUL PICTURE of my sister in Lloyd George’s book, I hardly heard the knock on my cabin door. It swung open and Matron stood there looking displeased. ‘Did you not hear me knock, Miss Smith?’

Tears were rolling down my face. I sniffed hard and nodded. ‘It’s my sister, Matron. I just found it. Look, a photo of her before she became a VAD on Lemnos where she got the influenza and died.’

Matron stretched her neck and spoke down her nose. ‘I can see it is not a good time, Miss Smith. I’ll speak to you in the morning.’ Then she turned away and disappeared down the corridor.

I never did discover what she came for. That book became one of my most treasured possessions and at this point, I still have it.

*

Our days were filled with scrubbing decks, making beds, and medical lessons, though we did have some time off each day until we reached our destination. This period was occupied by gymnastics, which were led by Sergeant Jones from Pontypridd in his white trousers and white vest. It’s a wonder the dark haired, broad-chested soldier had the bravery to stand and raise his arms above his head before that many pairs of appreciative eyes each day.

The swimming bath was available to men in the mornings, and women in the evening. I swam every day, becoming faster and stronger with each session – keeping my promise to Father and writing how many laps I had done in my letters to Mother. I even joked that if the worst happened, I would be quite able to swim home from wherever I was. I loved the pool – loved competing with other nurses in impromptu races – and enjoyed the immensely clean feeling as I dried off. Sergeant Jones saw me punishing myself one evening and suggested that I train for the 1920 Olympic selection and even offered to coach me.

‘Really! Do you think I would stand a chance? What would I have to do?’

‘We would need to send off your best lap times, name, address, and date of birth.’