Page 53 of Summer in Greece

He shook his head again. ‘There comes a time to let go of grief, I learned that much. It doesn’t mean you no longer care, but in a way, you owe the person you’re grieving for a life of your own. Does that make any sense?’

Shelly thought about it. Harry had put it so simply: You owe the person you’re grieving for a life of your own. It was a profound statement; one that she knew instantly would change her life. She recalled the start of Gran Gertie’s tape: The most difficult thing we have to learn in life, is to let go of those we love, my darlings.

They sat in silence for a while, both occupied by their memories until Harry spoke again. ‘These days have been very special for me, Shelly. I do hope you come back.’

‘Thank you, that’s a kind thing to say. You’ve given me such a marvellous time, and though I haven’t learned much about my great-grandmother, I feel there’s a special story waiting to be uncovered.’

He pushed his plate away. ‘One last pudding?’

She grinned. ‘What do you suggest?’

He bobbed his eyebrows and they both laughed. ‘Kadaifi and frozen yoghurt?’

‘Oh, it sounds perfect.’ When it arrived, she glanced at her handbag. ‘I know this is really naff, but would you mind if I recorded the moment?’

He looked at the camera, smiled unselfconsciously and shook his head. ‘I don’t mind what you do.’

Shelly focused on her pudding, pressed live view, and started recording. She lifted the camera to take in his smiling face. ‘I’ve had a wonderful time with you,’ she said, knowing the camera was picking up her voice.

‘You’re very special,’ he said, the charismatic smile returning and his gaze penetrating her eyes in a way that transfixed her. She ended the video, knowing she would enjoy watching the moment again and again.

Shelly wanted to kiss him right there and then, but noticed the taverna owner watching. She smiled to herself, then threw him a slow and deliberate wink.

He flinched, startled, and turned away. Harry had seen her action. ‘What?’ he said, looking over his shoulder.

She giggled. ‘He’s been staring at us for an hour straight. I just thought I’d see what would happen.’

‘You are very . . . átaktos. I don’t know the English word.’

‘A-tak-tos?’ She got her phone out and pulled up Google Translate. ‘Ah . . . mischievous. Yes, I do my best.’

They laughed, warmed by the wine and the day. ‘It’s been lovely, more than that, very special. Thank you, Harry.’

Hand in hand, they walked along the promenade, towards her room. ‘Promise me you’ll come back.’

‘I’m only on day three.’

‘I don’t want to spend the rest of the week wondering if I’ll ever see you again.’

‘I will,’ she said, her attention caught by the flash of the lighthouse. Did Gran Gertie walk along the same path, and in whose company: Corporal Perkins, or Manno the mailman?

CHAPTER 22

GERTIE

Greece, 1916.

‘WHERE’S MY LEG? WHERE’S MY bloody leg?’ Perkins screamed. ‘They’ve cut my damn leg off! Where is it? I want to see it, now!’ The startled nurse let go. He fell back onto the bed, then hauled himself onto his elbows. ‘Where’s the surgeon who butchered me?’

‘He’s away on the ship, Corporal, heading for Piraeus.’ Nurse Josephine backed away. ‘He saved your life.’

‘Johnny,’ I said, remembering his name. ‘You need your medication. You’re having a panic attack. Try and breathe steadily. Come on, give me your hand and we’ll do it together. Breathe in, hold it, let it go slowly.’ From the corner of my eye, I could see Josephine filling a syringe. She swabbed his other wrist and stabbed him with the hypodermic.

‘Come on now, Johnny,’ I said. ‘Breathe in, hold it, let it go slowly.’

He stared at me, his eyes glazed, wide with the horror of his discovery. ‘There’s a part of me out there, somewhere, and I don’t even know where it is. Now, I’m not whole, not complete . . .’ His voice became heavy, dull, and more slurred as the seconds ticked by. ‘I’ll never sleep again . . . God knows what they will do to me next time.’

I kept talking to him, distracting him from the facts. ‘Come on, Johnny, give me your hand. Let’s breathe together,’ I encouraged him again. ‘I’m here for you. I’ll always be here for you, don’t forget, you have my blood flowing around in your veins. We can get through this together, Johnny . . . together.’