Page 47 of Summer in Greece

My flashbacks were gaining strength. Split seconds would ticker-tape through my brain. I must have glimpsed the dolphin’s eye because later, I recalled being drawn into that mysterious sphere of innocence and extreme intelligence. An instant of understanding had flashed between us. A contact of minds chorused by rapid clicking, reminiscent of swallows on a telegraph wire in autumn. Then I noticed there were no telegraph wires in Kea.

The water, flat and golden as honey, mirrored the surrounding harbour, houses, and hills. The scene so lovely after all that had happened, for a moment I wanted to weep. My soul was torn by the loss of life, and the loss of that great ship that would have saved the lives of so many of our boys. The tragedy would follow me through life, silently, like a shadow. A nightmare to endure for the rest of my life.

CHAPTER 19

SHELLY

Greece, present day.

SHELLY AND HARRY ENJOYED THE perfect setting. A balmy Mediterranean night, a jasmine-scented balcony, two compatible adults attracted to each other, and a view over the prettiest little Greek island. Were they in each other’s arms, whispering words of love? No. They were debating the First World War with great excitement.

Harry rested his chin on his fists and peered into her eyes.

Shelly shook her head, trying to unravel the facts. ‘Tell me again, Harry. I want to make sure I’ve got this straight.’

‘The facts are: the Germans had a substantial submarine fleet, twenty-three different classes, commissioned for mine laying. The U73 submarine laid Minefield 23, down there.’ He nodded into the darkness.

‘A mile or two out from St Nicholas lighthouse?’

‘Exactly, only days before the SS Burdigala sank, and then the Britannic sank, of course.’

‘So why did the Britannic sail straight into that same minefield? As it’s such a busy sea lane, why didn’t a minesweeper pass through first?

‘Because the skipper of the Burdigala was certain his ship had been struck by a torpedo. Several of the men had seen the periscope and the missile trail quite clearly. Fifteen rounds were fired before they abandoned ship, but no evidence of a submarine wreck has ever been found. Also, those waters were deemed too deep to mine.’

She realised her hand was in his. ‘I’m so enjoying this!’

‘Me too.’ He grinned. ‘Take into account the maximum length of mooring rope used with UC-47 mines was a hundred metres. The Britannic sank in a hundred and twenty-one metres, but the explosion happened where the Kia Channel is much deeper.’

‘Oh wow! So how could it have been a mine? That’s the bottom line, isn’t it?’

‘But more interestingly, why would people want to claim it was?’

‘Can we calculate how far Captain Bartlett managed to bring the Britannic towards the shore after the hit? Has anyone discovered the depth of the Kea Channel on the ship’s route? And is there a map of the minefield in the German war records? It all sounds a bit fishy to me.’

Harry grinned, his eyes shining brightly. ‘You’re not just a pretty face then.’ He reached over the table and took her other hand. ‘I feel as though I’ve known you all my life. May I ask you a personal question?’

She blinked at him. ‘You can, but I can’t promise to answer it.’

‘What’s such a beautiful and intelligent woman like you doing here all on her own?’

‘That’s a simple one. I’m getting away from it all.’

‘Family?’

‘No. Only my elderly father. You?’

‘Two boys. You saw them at the dive centre.’

‘Nobody else?’

He shook his head. ‘I’m divorced. My ex returned to Norway after the legalities, ten years ago.’

‘Ah, I see. Sorry to be blunt. Just, best to know . . . you know?’ she said.

‘Are you?’

‘Not at all. I did fall in love a long time ago.’ She hesitated. ‘I was very young, sixteen. It broke my heart. I promised myself I’d never go through that pain again.’