46
‘JUST THINK how many things can go wrong,’ said Emma as she paced up and down the bedroom.
‘Why not focus on how many things will go right,’ said Harry, ‘and take Grace’s advice, try to relax and treat the whole experience as a holiday.’
‘I’m only sorry she won’t be joining us on the voyage.’
‘Grace was never going to take two weeks off during an eight-week term.’
‘Giles seems able to manage it.’
‘Only one week,’ Harry reminded her, ‘and he’s been fairly cunning, because he plans to visit the UN while he’s in New York, and then go on to Washington to meet his opposite number.’
‘Leaving Gwyneth and the baby at home.’
‘A wise decision given the circumstances. It wouldn’t have been much of a holiday for either of them with young Walter bawling his head off night and day.’
‘Are you packed and ready?’ asked Emma.
‘Yes I am, chairman. Have been for some time.’
Emma laughed and threw her arms around him. ‘Sometimes I forget to say thank you.’
‘Don’t get sentimental on me. You’ve still got a job to do, so why don’t we get going?’
Emma seemed impatient to leave, even though it meant they would be hanging about on board for hours before the captain gave the order to cast off and set sail for New York. Harry accepted that it would have been even worse if they’d stayed at home.
‘Just look at her,’ said Emma with pride as the car drove on to the quayside, and the Buckingham loomed up ahead of them.
‘Yes, a truly hysterical sight.’
‘Oh help,’ said Emma. ‘Am I ever going to live that down?’
‘I do hope not,’ said Harry.
‘It’s so exciting,’ said Sam as Sebastian turned off the A4 and followed the signs for the docks. ‘I’ve never been on an ocean liner before.’
‘And it’s no ordinary liner,’ said Sebastian. ‘It’s got a sun deck, a cinema, two restaurants and a swimming pool. It’s more like a floating city.’
‘It seems strange having a swimming pool when you’re surrounded by water.’
‘Water, water everywhere.’
‘Another of your minor English poets?’ said Sam.
‘Do you have any major American poets?’
‘One who wrote a poem you could learn something from: The heights by great men reached and kept were not attained by sudden flight, but they, while their companions slept, were toiling upward in the night.’
‘Who wrote that?’ asked Sebastian.
‘How many of our people are already on board?’ asked Lord Glenarthur, trying to remain in character as the car drove out of Bristol and headed for the port.
‘Three porters and a couple of waiters, one in the grill room, one in cabin class, and a messenger boy.’
‘Can they be relied on to keep their mouths shut if they were interrogated or put under real pressure?’
‘Two of the porters and one of the waiters were hand-picked. The messenger boy will only be on board for a few minutes, and once he’s delivered the flowers, he’ll hot-foot it back to Belfast.’
‘After we’ve checked in, Liam, come to my cabin at nine o’clock. By then most of the first-class passengers will be having dinner, which will give you more than enough time to set up the equipment.’
‘Setting it up won’t be the problem,’ said Liam. ‘It’s getting that large trunk on board without anyone becoming suspicious that I’m worried about.’
‘Two of the porters know the number plate of this car,’ said the chauffeur, ‘and they’ll be looking out for us.’
‘How’s my accent holding up?’ asked Glenarthur.
‘You’d have fooled me, but I’m not an English gentleman. And we’ll have to hope no one on board has actually met Lord Glenarthur.’
‘Unlikely. He’s over eighty, and he hasn’t been seen in public since his wife died ten years ago.’
‘Isn’t he a distant relation of the Barringtons?’ asked Liam.
‘That’s why I chose him. If the SAS has anyone on board, they’ll check Who’s Who, and assume I’m family.’
‘But what if you bump into a member of the family?’
‘I’m not going to bump into any of them. I’m going to bump them all off.’ The chauffeur chuckled. ‘Now, tell me, how do I get to my other cabin after I’ve pressed the button?’
‘I’ll give you the key at nine o’clock. Can you remember where the public toilet on deck six is? Because that’s where you’ll have to change once you’ve left your cabin for the last time.’
‘It’s on the far side of the first-class lounge. And by the way, old chap, it’s a lavatory not a toilet,’ said Lord Glenarthur. ‘That’s the sort of simple mistake that could get me caught out. Don’t forget, this ship is typical of English society. The upper classes don’t mix with cabin, and the cabin classes wouldn’t consider speaking to those in tourist. So it might not be that easy for us to get in touch with each other.’
‘But I read this is the first liner with a telephone in every room,’ Liam said, ‘so if there’s an emergency, just dial 712. If I don’t pick up, our waiter in the grill room is called Jimmy, and he . . .’
Colonel Scott-Hopkins wasn’t looking in the direction of the Buckingham. He and his colleagues were scanning the crowd on the quay for any sign of an Irish presence. So far he hadn’t seen anyone he recognized. Captain Hartley and Sergeant Roberts, who had both served in Northern Ireland with the SAS, had also drawn blanks. It was Corporal Crann who spotted him.
‘Four o’clock, standing on his own at the back of the crowd. He’s not looking at the ship, just the passengers.’
‘What the hell’s he doing here?’
‘Perhaps the same as us, looking for someone. But who?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Scott-Hopkins, ‘but, Crann, don’t let him out of your sight, and if he speaks to anyone or attempts to go on board, I want to know immediately.’
‘Yes, sir,’ said Crann, who began to weave his way through the crowd towards the target.
‘Six o’clock,’ said Captain Hartley.
The colonel switched his attention. ‘Oh God, that’s all we need . . .’