Be Careful What You Wish For Read online

  To

  Gwyneth

  My thanks go to the following for their invaluable advice and research:

  Simon Bainbridge, Eleanor Dryden, Professor Ken Howard RA, Cormac Kinsella, National Railway Museum, Bryan Organ, Alison Prince, Mari Roberts, Dr. Nick Robins, Shu Ueyama, Susan Watt and Peter Watts.

  CONTENTS

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  Family Tree

  Prologue

  Harry and Emma 1957–1958

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Don Pedro Martinez 1958–1959

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Cedric Hardcastle 1959

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Giles Barrington 1963

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Jessica Clifton 1964

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Cedric Hardcastle 1964

  Chapter 26

  Major Alex Fisher 1964

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Sebastian Clifton 1964

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Diego Martinez 1964

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Harry and Emma 1964

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Also by Jeffrey Archer

  About the Author

  Copyright

  PROLOGUE

  SEBASTIAN TIGHTENED HIS grip on the steering wheel of the little MG. The lorry behind him touched his rear bumper and jolted the car forward, sending its number plate flying high into the air. Sebastian tried to advance a couple more feet, but he couldn’t go any faster without running into the lorry in front of him and being squeezed between the two of them like a concertina.

  A few seconds later they were nudged forward a second time as the lorry behind them drove into the back of the MG with considerably more force, pushing it to within a foot of the lorry in front. It was only when the rear lorry hit them a third time that Bruno’s words Are you certain you’re making the right decision? flashed into Sebastian’s mind. He glanced across at his friend Bruno who was white with fear, clinging on to the dashboard with both hands.

  “They’re trying to kill us,” he screamed. “For God’s sake, Seb, do something!”

  Sebastian looked helplessly across at the southbound traffic to see a steady stream of vehicles heading in the opposite direction.

  When the lorry in front began to slow down, he knew that if they were to have any hope of surviving, he had to make a decision, and make it quickly. He glanced across to the other side of the road, desperately searching for a gap in the traffic. When the lorry behind hit him for a fourth time, he knew he’d been left with no choice.

  He yanked the steering wheel firmly to the right, careered across the grass verge and straight into the face of the oncoming vehicles. Sebastian pressed his foot hard down on the accelerator and prayed they would reach the safety of the wide open fields that stretched in front of him before a car could hit them.

  A van and a car threw on their brakes and swerved to avoid the little MG as it shot across the road in front of them. Just for a moment, Sebastian thought he might make it, until he saw the tree looming up in front of him. He took his foot off the accelerator and swung the steering wheel to the left, but it was too late. The last thing Sebastian heard was Bruno screaming.

  HARRY AND EMMA

  1957–1958

  1

  HARRY CLIFTON WAS woken by the sound of a phone ringing.

  He was in the middle of a dream, but couldn’t remember what it was about. Perhaps the insistent metallic sound was just part of his dream. He reluctantly turned over and blinked at the little phosphorescent green hands on the bedside clock: 6:43 a.m. He smiled. Only one person would consider calling him at that time in the morning. He picked up the phone and murmured in an exaggeratedly sleepy voice, “Good morning, my darling.” There was no immediate response, and for a moment Harry wondered if the hotel operator had put the call through to the wrong room. He was about to replace the receiver when he heard sobbing. “Is that you, Emma?”

  “Yes,” came the reply.

  “What’s the matter?” he asked soothingly.

  “Sebastian is dead.”

  Harry didn’t reply immediately, because he now wanted to believe he was still dreaming. “How can that be possible?” he eventually said. “I spoke to him only yesterday.”

  “He was killed this morning,” said Emma, clearly only able to manage a few words at a time.

  Harry sat bolt upright, suddenly wide awake.

  “In a car accident,” continued Emma between sobs.

  Harry tried to remain calm as he waited for her to tell him exactly what had happened.

  “They were traveling up to Cambridge together.”

  “They?” repeated Harry.

  “Sebastian and Bruno.”

  “Is Bruno still alive?”

  “Yes. But he’s in a hospital in Harlow, and they’re not sure if he’ll make it through the night.”

  Harry threw back the blanket and placed his feet on the carpet. He was freezing, and felt sick. “I’ll take a taxi to the airport immediately and catch the first flight back to London.”

  “I’m going straight to the hospital,” said Emma. She didn’t add anything else, and Harry wondered for a moment if the line had gone dead. Then he heard her whisper, “They need someone to identify his body.”

  * * *

  Emma replaced the receiver, but it was some time before she could gather enough strength to stand up. She eventually made her way unsteadily across the room, clinging on to several pieces of furniture, like a sailor in a storm. She opened the drawing room door to find Marsden standing in the hall, his head bowed. She had never known their old retainer to show the slightest emotion in front of a member of the family, and hardly recognized the shrunken figure now clutching on to the mantelpiece for support; the usual mask of self-composure had been replaced with the cruel reality of death.

  “Mabel has packed an overnight case for you, madam,” he stammered, “and if you’ll allow me, I’ll drive you to the hospital.”

  “Thank you, Marsden, that’s most considerate of you,” Emma said as he opened the front door for her.

  Marsden took her arm as they made their way down the steps toward the car; the first time he’d ever touched the mistress. He opened the door, and she climbed in and sank into the leather upholstery, as if she was an old lady. Marsden switched on the ignition, shifted the gear lever into first and set out on the long journey from the Manor House to the Princess Alexandra Hospital in Harlow.

  Emma suddenly realized she hadn’t rung her brother or sister to let them know what had happened. She would call Grace and Giles this evening, when they were more likely to be alone. This was not something she wanted to share when strang