Page 44 of Summer in Greece

She nodded. ‘Where are you taking me? I must confess; I only know a little information about the Britannic. I didn’t have time to research.’ She felt overwhelmed. ‘I’m so excited! Please tell me where, and all the details.’

‘It’s the Burdigala. Three kilometres out, seventy metres down, upright, on her keel. She sank just seven days before the Britannic, and there’s only two miles between them. Also, and you’ll love this, she was the second largest ship in Greek seas, only the Britannic being larger.’

‘What a lot of coincidences.’ They both stared out into the dark, their eyes drawn to the distant beam of the lighthouse. ‘Was there . . . I mean, did anyone die?’

He nodded. ‘A young engineer, French, killed by a broken steam pipe.’

‘Poor kid.’

He nodded. ‘Awful. But the same questions remain. Did the Burdigala hit a mine or was she torpedoed?’ He shook his head. ‘It’s a mystery, and for that reason, my favourite dive.’ He grinned. ‘You’ll love it.’

The excitement in his voice, matching her own thrill, sent shivers through her. ‘I’m sure I will, thank you so much. I can’t wait. Where was she destined, Lemnos?’

‘No, the other way. Heading for France to take on troops. At 10.45 a.m., same time as the Britannic, a midships, starboard explosion, identical to the Britannic, and like the Britannic, sank within the hour.’

‘Good heavens, surely that’s too many coincidences to be a coincidence? What do you think? You must be intrigued by it all?’

‘I think we should consider a pudding.’

‘A man after my own heart.’

‘I am.’ Her head snapped up. What was he saying? ‘Intrigued by it all,’ he said, seeing her fluster and laughing. ‘Let’s get the dessert menu.’ He raised a hand.

‘According to the report, a periscope was spotted,’ he said, then turned to the waiter and waved the menu away. ‘Baklava and ice cream.’

Shelly glanced down the menu. ‘Yogurt and honey with local walnuts, please.’ She returned her attention to Harry. ‘Go on.’

‘Even though the ship was sinking, the Captain ordered the Burdigala’s gunner to fire at the periscope. Fifteen cannon rounds were deployed, but who knows if they were successful? We’ve never discovered a submarine wreck.’

‘But that same submarine may have sunk the Britannic a week later?’

‘Possibly.’

‘Was the channel known to be mined?’

He shrugged, held his hands out, palms up. ‘How could they know? It was a busy sea lane, but the other ships were smaller, therefore not so low in the water.’

Shelly thought for a moment. ‘I’m guessing mines would be held by a cable or chain to an anchor, yes.’ He nodded. ‘Even if the depth was two hundred metres, it would be a difficult and time-consuming operation for a German ship to lay a series of mines at that depth, unseen, in a busy channel. Anyway, there seems little point in such a risky operation for one or two mines.’

‘Good thinking, Shelly.’ Harry grinned.

‘Elementary, my dear Harry.’ Shelly laughed. ‘Your English is very good.’

‘British education. Bristol uni.’

She was silent for a moment. ‘Harry, if both sides were eager to brag about their destructions, well, we know why Germany wouldn’t want to say they torpedoed the Britannic – because it was a hospital ship – and there was an international agreement. But, why wouldn’t they want to say they torpedoed the Burdigala? Unless . . . it wasn’t the Germans?’

Harry raised his eyebrows and smiled quizzically.

‘No . . . you’re not saying . . . that someone was after the submarine and inadvertently torpedoed our own ship?’ She shook her head. ‘Twice? I don’t think so. Or . . .’ She sighed, sensing she was on to something, but didn’t know what. ‘I’ll give up on that for the moment. Are there any other mysteries connected to the wreck? Any First World War nurses walk the Kea beaches on the night of a full moon, for example?’

Harry laughed. ‘No, but there is the ship’s bell. The prize of all bounty divers. A huge thing, situated up the radio mast. Reached by a spiral staircase inside the mast. Would have sounded the distress signal. Every dive has a look for it, but no luck so far.It’s my quest, my passion, to find that bell. It’s all so fascinating, don’t you think?’

‘I won’t be able to sleep now, thanks very much!’ she admonished him playfully.

On the dark balcony, the night-flowering jasmine opened fully, surrounding them with small white stars. The scent increased, heady and intoxicating. Twinkling village lights illuminated the town’s cluster of red-tiled roofs and domed churches. Couples strolled along the cobbled streets below. When the breeze changed direction, she caught the aroma of barbecued lamb being turned on a spit, or warm honey, basil, or cinnamon. Far away, she could see the lights of great container ships and crude-oil tankers slipping through the Kea channel. She wondered if the taverna had existed when the Britannic went down, because the event would have been clearly visible from such a vantage point.

‘What are you thinking?’ Harry asked.