Clifton Chronicles 02 - The Sins of the Father (7 page)

When she climbed into bed just before midnight, she could only assume that it must have been for what he considered a matter of honour. Perhaps he imagined, poor, foolish, disillusioned man, that it would release her from any obligation she might feel towards him. Didn’t he realize that from the first moment she’d set eyes on him, at her brother’s birthday party when she was only ten years old, there was never going to be another man in her life?

Emma’s family had been delighted when she and Harry became engaged eight years later, with the exception of her father, who had for so long been living a lie – a lie that wasn’t exposed until the day of their wedding. The two of them were standing at the altar, about to take their vows, when Old Jack had brought the ceremony to an unrehearsed and unexpected close. The revelation that Emma’s father might also be Harry’s father didn’t stop her loving Harry, and it never would. No one was surprised that Harry behaved like a gentleman, while Emma’s father had remained true to his character, and behaved like a cad. One stood and faced the music, while the other slunk out of the back door of the vestry and hadn’t been seen since.

Harry had made it clear, long before he asked Emma to be his wife, that if war was declared he wouldn’t hesitate to leave Oxford and join the Royal Navy. He was a stubborn man at the best of times, and these were the worst of times. Emma realized there was no point in trying to dissuade him, as nothing she could say or do would have changed his mind. He had also warned her that he would not consider returning to Oxford until the Germans had surrendered.

Emma had also left Oxford early, but unlike Harry, she hadn’t been given a choice. For her there would be no chance of returning. Pregnancy was frowned upon at Somerville, and even more so when you weren’t married to the father. The decision must have broken her mother’s heart. Elizabeth Barrington had so wanted her daughter to achieve the academic accolades that she had been denied for no other reason than her sex. A rare glimmer of light appeared on the horizon a year later, when Emma’s younger sister Grace won an open scholarship to Girton College, Cambridge, and from the day she’d arrived in that seat of learning she had outshone the brightest men.

Once it became obvious that Emma was pregnant, she was whisked off to her grandfather’s estate in Scotland, to give birth to Harry’s child. Barringtons don’t produce illegitimate offspring, at least not in Bristol. Sebastian was crawling around the castle before the prodigal daughter was allowed to return to the Manor House. Elizabeth had wanted them to remain at Mulgelrie until the war was over, but Emma had had more than enough of being hidden away in a remote Scottish castle.

One of the first people she visited after returning to the West Country was her grandfather, Sir Walter Barrington. It had been he who had told her that Harry had joined the crew of the SS
Devonian
, and planned to return to Bristol within the month, as he intended to sign up as an ordinary seaman on HMS
Resolution
. Harry never returned, and six weeks went by before she learned that her lover had been buried at sea.

Sir Walter had taken it upon himself to visit each member of the family one by one, to inform them of the tragic news. He’d begun with Mrs Clifton, although he knew she had already heard what had happened from Dr Wallace, who had passed on Thomas Bradshaw’s letter. He next travelled up to Scotland to break the news to Emma. Sir Walter was surprised that his granddaughter didn’t shed a tear, but then Emma simply refused to accept that Harry was dead.

Once he’d returned to Bristol, Sir Walter visited Giles and told him the news. Harry’s closest friend had sunk into a desolate silence, and there was nothing any of the family could say or do to console him. When Lord and Lady Harvey heard the news of Harry’s death, they were stoical. A week later, when the family attended Captain Jack Tarrant’s memorial service at Bristol Grammar School, Lord Harvey remarked that he was glad Old Jack had never found out what had happened to his protégé.

The only person in the family Sir Walter refused to visit was his son, Hugo. He made an excuse about not knowing how to get in touch with him, but when Emma returned to Bristol he admitted to her that even if he had known, he wouldn’t have bothered, and added that her father was probably the one person who would be pleased that Harry was dead. Emma said nothing, but didn’t doubt that he was right.

For several days after her visit to Maisie in Still House Lane, Emma had spent hours alone in her room endlessly considering what she might do with her new-found knowledge. She concluded that there was no way she could hope to discover the contents of the letter that had rested on the mantelpiece for more than a year, without harming her relationship with Maisie. However, Emma resolved not only to prove to the whole world that Harry was still alive, but to find him, wherever he might be. With that in mind, she made another appointment to see her grandfather. After all, Sir Walter Barrington was the only person other than Maisie who’d met Dr Wallace, so he must surely be her best chance of unravelling the mystery of exactly who Thomas Bradshaw was.

7

O
NE THING
Emma’s grandfather had instilled in her from an early age was never to be late for an appointment. It gives the wrong impression, he told her; that is, if you want to be taken seriously.

With that in mind, Emma left the Manor House at 9.25 that morning, and was driven through the gates of Barrington’s shipyard at exactly eight minutes to ten. The car parked outside Barrington House at six minutes to ten. By the time she stepped out of the lift on the fifth floor and walked down the corridor to the chairman’s office, it was two minutes to ten.

Sir Walter’s secretary, Miss Beale, opened the door of his office as the clock on his mantelpiece began to chime ten. The chairman smiled, rose from behind his desk and walked across the room to greet Emma with a kiss on both cheeks.

‘And how is my favourite granddaughter?’ he asked as he guided her to a comfortable chair by the fire.

‘Grace is just fine, Gramps,’ said Emma. ‘Doing brilliantly at Cambridge, I’m told, and sends her love.’

‘Don’t get cheeky with me, young lady,’ he said, returning her smile. ‘And Sebastian, my favourite great-grandson, how’s he coming along?’

‘Your only great-grandson,’ Emma reminded him as she settled back into a deep leather chair.

‘As you haven’t brought him with you, I assume you have something serious to discuss.’

The small talk had already been dispensed with. Emma knew that Sir Walter would have allocated a certain amount of time for the meeting. Miss Beale had once told her that visitors were granted fifteen minutes, thirty minutes or an hour, depending on how important he considered they were. Family were not exempt from this rule, except on Sunday. Emma had a number of questions she needed answered, so hoped he’d allotted her at least half an hour.

She sat back and tried to relax, because she didn’t want Gramps to work out the real reason she wanted to see him.

‘Do you remember when you kindly travelled up to Scotland,’ she began, ‘to let me know that Harry had been killed at sea? I’m afraid I was in such a state of shock that I didn’t take it all in, so I hoped you might tell me a little more about the last few days of his life.’

‘Of course, my dear,’ said Sir Walter sympathetically. ‘Let’s hope my memory is up to it. Is there anything in particular you want to know?’

‘You told me that Harry signed up as the fourth officer on the
Devonian
after he’d come down from Oxford.’

‘That’s right. It was my old friend Captain Havens who made it possible, and he was among the few survivors of the tragedy. When I visited him recently, he could not have spoken more warmly of Harry. He described him as a courageous young man, who not only saved his life after the ship had been hit by a torpedo, but sacrificed his own when he attempted to rescue the chief engineer.’

‘Was Captain Havens also picked up by the
Kansas Star
?’

‘No, by another ship that was in the vicinity, so sadly he never saw Harry again.’

‘So he didn’t witness Harry being buried at sea?’

‘No. The only officer from the
Devonian
who was with Harry when he died was an American, called Lieutenant Thomas Bradshaw.’

‘You told me that a Dr Wallace delivered a letter from Lieutenant Bradshaw to Mrs Clifton.’

‘That’s correct. Dr Wallace was the chief medical officer on the
Kansas Star
. He assured me that he and his team did everything in their power to save Harry’s life.’

‘Did Bradshaw write to you as well?’

‘No, only to the next of kin, if I recall Dr Wallace’s words.’

‘Then don’t you find it strange that he didn’t write to me?’

Sir Walter fell silent for some time. ‘You know, I’ve never really given it any thought. Perhaps Harry never mentioned you to Bradshaw. You know how secretive he could be.’

Emma had often thought about it, but moved quickly on. ‘Did you read the letter he sent to Mrs Clifton?’

‘No, I didn’t. But I saw it on the mantelpiece when I visited her the following day.’

‘Do you think Dr Wallace had any idea what Bradshaw had written in that letter?’

‘Yes. He told me it was a letter of condolence from a fellow officer who had served with Harry on the
Devonian
.’

‘If only I could meet Lieutenant Bradshaw,’ said Emma, fishing.

‘I don’t know how you’ll manage that, my dear,’ said Sir Walter, ‘unless Wallace kept in touch with him.’

‘Do you have an address for Dr Wallace?’

‘Only care of the
Kansas Star
.’

‘But surely they must have stopped sailing to Bristol when war was declared.’

‘Not as long as there are Americans stranded in England who are willing to pay through the nose to get home.’

‘Isn’t that taking an unnecessary risk, with so many German U-boats patrolling the Atlantic?’

‘Not while America remains neutral,’ said Sir Walter. ‘The last thing Hitler wants is to start a war with the Yanks simply because one of his U-boats sank an American passenger ship.’

‘Do you know if the
Kansas Star
is expected to return to Bristol in the near future?’

‘No, but I can easily find out.’ The old man heaved himself out of his chair and walked slowly across to his desk. He began to flick through page after page of the monthly timetable of dockings.

‘Ah, here it is,’ he eventually said. ‘She’s due out of New York in four weeks’ time, and is expected in Bristol on the fifteenth of November. If you’re hoping to get in touch with anyone on board, be warned, she won’t be hanging around for long, as it’s the one place she’ll be vulnerable to attack.’

‘Will I be allowed on board?’

‘Not unless you’re a crew member or looking for a job, and frankly I can’t see you as either a deckhand or a cocktail waitress.’

‘So how can I get to see Dr Wallace?’

‘You’ll just have to wait on the dockside in the hope that he’ll come ashore. Almost everyone does after a week-long voyage. So if he’s on the ship, I’m sure you’ll catch him. But don’t forget, Emma, it’s more than a year since Harry died, so Wallace may no longer be the ship’s medical officer.’ Emma bit her lip. ‘But if you’d like me to arrange a private meeting with the captain, I’d be happy—’

‘No, no,’ said Emma quickly, ‘it’s not that important.’

‘If you change your mind—’ began Sir Walter, suddenly realizing just how important Emma considered it to be.

‘No, thank you, Gramps,’ she said as she rose from her place. ‘Thank you for giving me so much of your time.’

‘Not nearly enough,’ said the old man. ‘I only wish you’d drop in more often. And make sure you bring Sebastian with you next time,’ he added as he accompanied her to the door.

Sir Walter was no longer in any doubt why his granddaughter had come to see him.

In the car on the way back to the Manor House, one sentence remained etched in Emma’s mind. She played the words over and over, like a gramophone needle stuck in a groove.

Once she had returned home, she joined Sebastian in the nursery. He had to be coaxed off his rocking horse, but not before a few tears had been shed. After lunch he curled up like a satisfied cat, and fell into a deep sleep. Nanny put him to bed while Emma rang for the chauffeur.

‘I’d like to be driven back into Bristol, Hudson.’

‘Anywhere in particular, miss?’

‘The Grand Hotel.’