When Harry woke again, he could hear voices coming from the next room. Moments later, Dr Wallace and Nurse Craven walked into the sick bay.
‘It must have been heart-wrenching,’ said the nurse.
‘It wasn’t at all pleasant,’ admitted the doctor. ‘Somehow it was made worse because they all went to their graves nameless, although I had to agree with the captain, that’s the way a sailor would have wanted to be buried.’
‘Any news from the other ship?’ asked the nurse.
‘Yes, they’ve done a little better than us. Eleven dead, but three survivors: a Chinaman and two Englishmen.’
Harry wondered if it was possible that one of the Englishmen might be Captain Havens.
The doctor bent down and unbuttoned Harry’s pyjama top. He placed a cold stethoscope on several parts of his chest and listened carefully. Then the nurse placed a thermometer in Harry’s mouth.
‘His temperature is well down, doctor,’ said the nurse after she had checked the vein of mercury.
‘Excellent. You might try giving him some thin soup.’
‘Yes, of course. Will you need my help with any of the passengers?’
‘No, thank you, nurse, your most important job is to make sure this one survives. I’ll see you in a couple of hours.’
Once the door had closed, the nurse returned to Harry’s bedside. She sat down and smiled. ‘Can you see me?’ she asked. Harry nodded. ‘Can you tell me your name?’
‘Tom Bradshaw,’ he replied.
55
‘TOM,’ SAID DR WALLACE once he’d completed his examination of Harry, ‘I wonder if you can tell me the name of your fellow officer who died last night. I’d like to write to his mother, or his wife if he had one.’
‘His name was Harry Clifton,’ said Harry, his voice barely audible. ‘He wasn’t married, but I know his mother quite well. I’d planned to write to her myself.’
‘That’s good of you,’ said Wallace, ‘but I’d still like to send her a letter. Do you have her address?’
‘Yes, I do,’ said Harry. ‘But it might be kinder if she heard from me first, and not from a complete stranger,’ he suggested.
‘If you think so,’ said Wallace, not sounding at all sure.
‘Yes, I do,’ said Harry, a little more firmly this time. ‘You can always post my letter when the Kansas Star returns to Bristol. That’s assuming the captain is still planning to sail back to England, now we’re at war with Germany.’
‘We are not at war with Germany,’ said Wallace.
‘No, of course we’re not,’ said Harry, quickly correcting himself. ‘And let’s hope it never comes to that.’
‘Agreed,’ said Wallace, ‘but that won’t stop the Kansas Star making the return journey. There are still hundreds of Americans stranded in England, with no other way of getting home.’
‘Isn’t that a bit of a risk?’ asked Harry. ‘Especially considering what we’ve just been through.’
‘No, I don’t think so,’ said Wallace. ‘The last thing the Germans will want to do is sink an American passenger ship, which would be sure to drag us into the conflict. I suggest you get some sleep, Tom, because I’m hoping that tomorrow the nurse will be able to take you for a turn around the deck. Only one lap to begin with,’ he emphasized.
Harry closed his eyes but made no attempt to sleep as he began to think about the decision he’d made, and how many lives it would affect. By taking Tom Bradshaw’s identity, he had allowed himself a little breathing space to consider his future. Once they learnt that Harry Clifton had been killed at sea, Sir Walter and the rest of the Barrington family would be released from any obligations they might have felt bound by, and Emma would be free to begin a new life. A decision he felt Old Jack would have approved of, although the full implications hadn’t yet sunk in.
However, the resurrection of Tom Bradshaw would undoubtedly create its own problems, and he would have to remain constantly on his guard. It didn’t help that he knew almost nothing about Bradshaw, so that whenever Nurse Craven asked him about his past, he either had to make something up or change the subject.
Bradshaw had proved very adept at deflecting any questions he didn’t wish to answer, and had clearly been a loner. He hadn’t set foot in his own country for at least three years, possibly more, so his family would have no way of knowing of his imminent return. As soon as the Kansas Star arrived in New York, Harry planned to sail back to England on the first available ship.
His greatest dilemma was how to prevent his mother from being put through any unnecessary suffering by thinking she’d lost her only son. Dr Wallace had gone some way to solving that particular problem when he promised to post a letter to Maisie the moment he arrived back in England. But Harry still had to write that letter.
He had spent hours going over the text in his mind, so that by the time he’d recovered enough to commit his thoughts to paper, he almost knew the script by heart.
New York,
September 8th, 1939
My dearest mother,
I have done everything in my power to make sure you receive this letter before anyone can tell you I was killed at sea.
As the date on this letter shows, I did not die when the Devonian was sunk on September 4th. In fact, I was plucked out of the sea by an American ship and am very much alive. However, an opportunity arose for me to assume another man’s identity, and I did so, in the hope it would release both you and the Barrington family from the many problems I seem to have unwittingly caused over the years.
It is important that you realize my love for Emma has in no way diminished; far from it. But I do not feel I have the right to expect her to spend the rest of her life clinging on to the vain hope that at some time in the future I might be able to prove that Arthur Clifton and not Hugo Barrington was my father. This way, she can at least consider a future with someone else. I envy that man.
I plan to return to England in the near future. Should you receive any communication from a Tom Bradshaw, it will be from me.
I will be in touch with you the moment I set foot in England, but in the meantime, I must beg you to keep my secret as steadfastly as you kept your own for so many years.
Your loving son,
Harry
He read the letter several times before placing it in an envelope marked ‘Strictly private and confidential’. He addressed it to Mrs Arthur Clifton, 27 Still House Lane, Bristol.
The following morning, he handed the letter over to Dr Wallace.