The Sins of the Father

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.’

‘You want me to do what?’ said Maisie.

‘Take me on as a waitress.’

‘But why?’

‘I’d prefer not to tell you.’

‘Do you have any idea how hard the work is?’

‘No,’ admitted Emma, ‘but I won’t let you down.’

‘And when do you want to start?’

‘Tomorrow.’

‘Tomorrow?’

‘Yes.’

‘For how long?’

‘One month.’

‘Now let me try and get this straight,’ said Maisie. ‘You want me to train you as a waitress, starting tomorrow, and you’ll be leaving in a month’s time, but you won’t tell me why?’

‘That’s about it.’

‘Are you expecting to be paid?’

‘No,’ said Emma.

‘Well, that’s a relief.’

‘So when do I start?’

‘Six o’clock tomorrow morning.’

‘Six o’clock?’ repeated Emma in disbelief.

‘This may come as a surprise, Emma, but I have customers who need to be fed by seven, and at work by eight, so you’ll have to make sure you’re at your station by six – every morning.’

‘My station?’

‘I’ll explain if you turn up before six.’

Emma wasn’t late for work once in the next twenty-eight days, possibly because Jenkins tapped on her door at 4.30 every morning, and Hudson dropped her off a hundred yards from the staff entrance of the Grand Hotel by 5.45.

Miss Dickens, as she was known by the rest of the staff, took advantage of her acting skills to make sure that no one worked out that she was a Barrington.

Mrs Clifton showed Emma no favours when she spilt some soup over a regular customer, and even less when she dropped a stack of plates that shattered in the middle of the dining room. The cost would normally have been deducted from her pay packet, if she’d had one. And it was some time before Emma got the knack of using her shoulder to barge through the swing doors that led in and out of the kitchen without colliding with another waitress