Be Careful What You Wish For: The Clifton Chronicles 4 (50 page)

‘What else could you possibly want?’

‘A double bed, to start with. Don’t you think it’s a bit early in our relationship to be sleeping in separate beds?’

‘Stop being so feeble, Seb, just push them together.’

‘I wish it was that easy, but they’re bolted to the floor.’

‘Then why don’t you take the mattresses off,’ she said, speaking very slowly, ‘put them next to each other, and we’ll sleep on the floor.’

‘I’ve already tried that, and there’s barely enough room to fit one on the floor, let alone two.’

‘If only you earned enough for us to have a first-class cabin, it wouldn’t be a problem,’ she said with an exaggerated sigh.

‘By the time I can afford that, we probably will be sleeping in separate beds.’

‘Not a chance,’ said Sam as her towel fell to the floor.

‘Good evening, my lord, my name is Braithwaite, and I’m the senior steward on this deck. Can I say what a pleasure it is to have you on board. If there’s
anything you need, night or day, just pick up the phone and dial one hundred, and someone will come immediately.’

‘Thank you, Braithwaite.’

‘Would you like me to unpack your suitcases while you’re at dinner, my lord?’

‘No, that’s very kind of you, but I’ve had a rather tiring journey down from Scotland, so I think I’ll rest and probably skip dinner.’

‘As you wish, my lord.’

‘In fact,’ said Lord Glenarthur, extracting a five-pound note from his wallet, ‘can you make sure I’m not disturbed before seven tomorrow morning, when I’d like a
cup of tea and some toast and marmalade?’

‘Brown or white, my lord?’

‘Brown will be just fine, Braithwaite.’

‘I’ll put the
Do not disturb
sign on your door and leave you to rest. Good night, my lord.’

The four of them met in the ship’s chapel soon after they’d checked into their cabins.

‘I don’t imagine we’ll be getting a lot of sleep for the next few days,’ said Scott-Hopkins. ‘After spotting that car, we have to assume there’s an IRA cell
on board.’

‘Why would the IRA be interested in the
Buckingham,
when they’ve got enough troubles of their own at home?’ asked Corporal Crann.

‘Because if they could pull off a coup like sinking the
Buckingham,
it would take everyone’s minds off those troubles at home.’

‘Surely you don’t think—’ began Hartley.

‘Always best to expect the worst-case scenario, and assume that’s what they have in mind.’

‘Where would they get the money to fund an operation like that?’

‘From the man you spotted standing on the dockside.’

‘But he didn’t come on board, and took the train straight back to London,’ said Roberts.

‘Would you come on board if you knew what they had planned?’

‘If he’s only interested in the Barrington and Clifton families, that at least narrows down the target, because they’re all on the same deck.’

‘Not true,’ said Roberts. ‘Sebastian Clifton and his girlfriend are in cabin 728. They could also be a target.’

‘I don’t think so,’ said the colonel. ‘If the IRA were to kill the daughter of an American diplomat, you can be sure that any funds coming out of the States would dry up
overnight. I think we should concentrate on those first-class cabins on deck one, because if they managed to kill Mrs Clifton along with one or two other members of her family, the
Buckingham
would not only be making its maiden voyage, but its final voyage. With that in mind,’ continued the colonel, ‘for the remainder of the trip we’ll carry out a
four-hour shift patrol. Hartley, you cover the first-class cabins until two a.m. I’ll take over from you then, and wake you just before six. Crann and Roberts can cover the same watches in
cabin class, because that’s where I think we’ll find the cell is located.’

‘How many are we looking for?’ asked Crann.

‘They’ll have at least three or four operatives on board, posing as either passengers or crew members. So if you spot anyone you’ve ever seen on the streets of Northern
Ireland, it won’t be a coincidence. And make sure I’m briefed immediately. Which reminds me, did you find out the names of the passengers who booked the last two first-class cabins on
number-one deck?’

‘Yes, sir,’ said Hartley. ‘Mr and Mrs Asprey, cabin five.’

‘The shop I won’t allow my wife to enter, unless it’s with another man.’

‘And Lord Glenarthur is in cabin three. I looked him up in
Who’s Who.
He’s eighty-four, and was married to the sister of Lord Harvey, so must be the chairman’s
great-uncle.’

‘Why has he got a
Do not disturb
sign on his door?’ asked the colonel.

‘He told the steward he was exhausted after the long journey from Scotland.’

‘Did he now?’ said the colonel. ‘Still, we’d better keep an eye on him, although I can’t imagine what use the IRA would have for an eighty-four-year-old.’

The door opened, and they all looked around to see the chaplain enter. He smiled warmly at the four men, who were on their knees holding prayer books.

‘Can I be of any assistance?’ he asked as he walked up the aisle towards them.

‘No, thank you, padre,’ said the colonel. ‘We were just leaving.’

47

‘A
M
I
EXPECTED
to wear a dinner jacket tonight?’ asked Harry after he’d finished unpacking.

‘No. The dress code is always informal on the first and last nights.’

‘And what does that mean, because it seems to change with each generation.’

‘For you, a suit and tie.’

‘Will anyone be joining us for dinner?’ asked Harry as he took his only suit out of the wardrobe.

‘Giles, Seb and Sam, so it’s just family.’

‘So is Sam now considered family?’

‘Seb seems to think so.’

‘Then he’s a lucky boy. Although I must confess I’m looking forward to getting to know Bob Bingham better. I hope we’ll have dinner with him and his wife one evening.
What’s her name?’

‘Priscilla. But be warned, they couldn’t be more different.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I won’t say anything until you’ve met her, and then you can judge for yourself.’

‘Sounds intriguing, although “be warned” has to be a clue. In any case, I’ve already decided that Bob is going to fill several pages of my next book.’

‘As a hero or a villain?’

‘Haven’t decided yet.’

‘What’s the theme?’ asked Emma as she opened the wardrobe.

‘William Warwick and his wife are on holiday aboard a luxury liner.’

‘And who murders who?’

‘The poor downtrodden husband of the chairman of the shipping line murders his wife, and runs off with the ship’s cook.’

‘But William Warwick would solve the crime long before they reached port, and the wicked husband would spend the rest of his life in jail.’

‘No he wouldn’t,’ said Harry as he selected which of his two ties he would wear for dinner. ‘Warwick has no authority to arrest him on board ship, so the husband gets
away with it.’

‘But if it was an English vessel, her husband would be subject to English law.’

‘Ah, there’s the twist. For tax reasons the ship sails under a flag of convenience, Liberia in this case, so all he has to do is bribe the local police chief and the case never gets
to court.’

‘Brilliant,’ said Emma. ‘Why didn’t I think of that? It would solve all my problems.’

‘You think that if I murdered you, it would solve all your problems?’

‘No, you idiot. But not having to pay any tax might. I think I’ll put you on the board.’

‘If you did that, I would murder you,’ said Harry, taking her in his arms.

‘A flag of convenience,’ repeated Emma. ‘I wonder how the board would react to that idea?’ She took two dresses out of the cupboard and held them up. ‘Which one,
the red or the black?’

‘I thought you said it was casual tonight.’

‘For the chairman, it’s never casual,’ she said as they heard a knock.

‘Of course it isn’t,’ said Harry. He walked across to open the door and was greeted by the senior steward.

‘Good evening, sir. Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth the Queen Mother has sent flowers for the chairman,’ said Braithwaite, as if it happened every day.

‘Lilies no doubt,’ said Harry.

‘How did you know that?’ asked Emma as a heavily built young man entered the room carrying a large vase of lilies.

‘The first flowers the Duke of York gave her, long before she became Queen.’

‘Would you put them on the table in the centre of the cabin,’ Emma said to the young man as she looked at the card that had come with the flowers. She was about to thank him, but
he’d already left.

‘What does the card say?’ asked Harry.

‘Thank you for a memorable day in Bristol. I do hope my second home has a successful maiden voyage.’

‘What an old pro,’ said Harry.

‘Very thoughtful of her,’ said Emma. ‘I don’t suppose the flowers will last much beyond New York, Braithwaite, but I’d like to keep the vase. A sort of
keepsake.’

‘I could replace the lilies while you’re ashore in New York, chairman.’

‘That’s very thoughtful of you, Braithwaite. Thank you.’

‘Emma tells me you want to be the next chairman of the board,’ said Giles, taking a seat at the bar.

‘Which board did she have in mind?’ asked Sebastian.

‘I presumed Barrington’s.’

‘No, I think Mother still has a few gallons left in the tank. But if she asked me, I might consider joining the board.’

‘That’s most considerate of you,’ said Giles as the barman placed a whisky and soda in front of him.

‘No, I’m more interested in Farthings.’

‘Don’t you think twenty-four is perhaps a little young to be chairman of a bank?’

‘You’re probably right, which is why I’m trying to persuade Mr Hardcastle not to retire before he’s seventy.’

‘But you’d still only be twenty-nine.’

‘That’s four years older than you were when you first entered Parliament.’

‘True, but I didn’t become a minister until I was forty-four.’

‘Only because you joined the wrong party.’

Giles laughed. ‘Perhaps you’ll end up in the House one day, Seb?’

‘If I do, Uncle Giles, you’ll have to look across the floor if you hope to see me, because I’ll be sitting on the benches opposite. And in any case, I intend to make my fortune
before I consider climbing that particular greasy pole.’

‘And who is this beautiful creature?’ asked Giles, climbing off his stool as Sam joined them.

‘This is my girlfriend, Sam,’ said Sebastian, unable to mask his pride.

‘You could have done better,’ Giles said, smiling at her.

‘I know,’ said Sam, ‘but a poor immigrant girl can’t be too fussy.’

‘You’re American,’ said Giles.

‘Yes. I think you know my father, Patrick Sullivan.’

‘I do indeed know Pat, and I hold him in the highest regard. In fact, I’ve always thought that London is nothing more than a stepping stone in his already glittering
career.’

‘That’s exactly how I feel about Sebastian,’ said Sam, taking his hand. Giles laughed as Emma and Harry walked into the grill room.

‘What’s the joke?’ asked Emma.

‘Sam has just put your son properly in his place.
I could marry this wench for this device
,’ said Giles, giving Sam a bow.

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