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Only Time Will Tell (2011) Page 25
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He was about to speak to Mr Atkins, when he was interrupted by Dr Paget, who was keen to introduce him to Professor Henry Wyld. Harry recognized the name at once.
‘I hear that you’re hoping to come up to Oxford to read English,’ said Wyld.
‘Only if I can be taught by you, sir.’
‘I see that Romeo’s charm has not been left behind on the stage.’
‘And this is Emma Barrington, sir.’
Oxford’s Merton Professor of English Language and Literature gave a slight bow. ‘You were quite magnificent, young lady.’
‘Thank you, sir,’ said Emma. ‘I am also hoping to be taught by you,’ she added. ‘I’ve applied to Somerville for next year.’
Jack Tarrant glanced at Mrs Clifton, and couldn’t miss the unmasked horror in her eyes.
‘Grandfather,’ said Giles as the chairman of the governors joined them. ‘I don’t think you know my friend, Harry Clifton.’
Sir Walter shook Harry warmly by the hand, before throwing his arms around his granddaughter. ‘You two made an old man proud,’ he said.
It was becoming painfully clear to Jack and Maisie that the two ‘star-crossed lovers’ had no idea of the problems they had set in motion.
Sir Walter ordered his chauffeur to drive Mrs Barrington and the children back to the Manor House. Despite Emma’s triumph, her mother made no attempt to hide her feelings as the car made its way towards Chew Valley. As they drove through the gates and up to the house, Giles noticed that some lights were still on in the drawing room.
Once the chauffeur had dropped them off, Elizabeth told Giles, Emma and Grace to go to bed, in a tone of voice none of them had heard for many years, while she headed for the drawing room. Giles and Emma reluctantly climbed the wide staircase but sat down on the top step the moment their mother was out of sight, while Grace obediently went to her room. Giles even wondered if his mother had left the door open on purpose.
When Elizabeth entered the room, her husband didn’t bother to stand up. She noticed a half empty bottle of whisky and a tumbler on the table by his side.
‘No doubt you have some explanation for your unforgivable behaviour?’
‘I don’t have to explain anything I do to you.’
‘Emma somehow managed to rise above your appalling behaviour tonight.’
Barrington poured himself another tumbler of whisky and took a gulp. ‘I have arranged for Emma to be removed from Red Maids immediately. Next term she will be enrolled at a school far enough away to ensure she never sees that boy again.’
On the stairs, Emma burst into tears. Giles wrapped an arm around her.
‘What can Harry Clifton possibly have done to make you behave in such a shameful way?’
‘It’s none of your business.’
‘Of course it’s my business,’ said Elizabeth, trying to remain calm. ‘We are discussing our daughter and your son’s closest friend. If Emma has fallen in love with Harry, and I suspect she has, I can’t think of a nicer or more decent young man for her to lose her heart to.’
‘Harry Clifton is the son of a whore. That’s why her husband left her. And I repeat, Emma will never be allowed to come in contact with the little bastard again.’
‘I’m going to bed before I lose my temper,’ said Elizabeth. ‘Don’t even think of joining me in your present state.’
‘I wasn’t thinking of joining you in any state,’ said Barring-ton, pouring himself another whisky. ‘You haven’t given me any pleasure in the bedroom for as long as I can remember.’
Emma leapt up and ran to her room, locking the door behind her. Giles didn’t move.
‘You are obviously drunk,’ said Elizabeth. ‘We’ll discuss this in the morning, when you’re sober.’
‘There will be nothing to discuss in the morning,’ slurred Barrington as his wife left the room. A moment later his head fell back on the cushion and he began to snore.
When Jenkins pulled back the shutters in the drawing room just before eight the following morning he showed no surprise when he found his master slumped in an armchair, sound asleep and still wearing his dinner jacket.
The morning sunlight caused Barrington to stir. He blinked, and peered at the butler before he checked his watch.
‘There will be a car coming to pick up Miss Emma in about an hour’s time, Jenkins, so be sure she’s packed and ready.’
‘Miss Emma is not here, sir.’
‘What? Then where is she?’ demanded Barrington as he tried to stand up, but wobbled unsteadily for a moment before falling back into the chair.
‘I have no idea, sir. She and Mrs Barrington left the house just after midnight.’
38
‘WHERE DO YOU THINK they’ve gone?’ asked Harry, once Giles had described what happened after he had arrived back at the Manor House.
‘I’ve no idea,’ said Giles. ‘I was asleep when they left the house. All I could get out of Jenkins was that a taxi had taken them to the station just after midnight.’
‘And you say your father was drunk when you returned home last night?’
‘As a skunk, and he hadn’t sobered up by the time I came down for breakfast this morning. He was shouting and screaming at anyone who crossed his path. He even tried to blame me for everything. That was when I decided to go and stay with my grandparents.’
‘Do you think your grandfather might know where they are?’
‘I don’t think so, although he didn’t seem that surprised when I told him what had happened. Grandma said I could stay with them for as long as I wanted to.’
‘They can’t be in Bristol,’ said Harry, ‘if the taxi took them to the station.’
‘They could be anywhere by now,’ said Giles.
Neither of them spoke again for some time, until Harry suggested, ‘Your villa in Tuscany perhaps?’
‘Unlikely,’ said Giles. ‘That’s the first place Papa would think of, so they wouldn’t be safe there for long.’
‘So it has to be somewhere your father would think twice about before going after them.’ Both boys fell silent again, until Harry said, ‘I can think of someone who might know where they are.’
‘And who’s that?’
‘Old Jack,’ said Harry, who still couldn’t quite bring himself to call him Captain Tarrant. ‘I know he’s become a friend of your mother’s, and she certainly trusts him.’
‘Do you know where he might be at the moment?’
‘Anyone who reads The Times knows that,’ said Harry scornfully.
Giles punched his friend on the arm. ‘So where is he, clever clogs?’
‘He’ll be at his office in London. Soho Square, if I remember correctly.’
‘I’ve always wanted an excuse to spend a day in London,’ said Giles. ‘It’s just a pity I’ve left all my money back at the house.’
‘Not a problem,’ said Harry. ‘I’m flush. That Atkins fellow gave me a fiver, although he did say I was to spend it on books.’
‘Don’t worry,’ said Giles, ‘I can think of an alternative plan.’
‘Like what?’ asked Harry, looking hopeful.
‘We can just sit around and wait for Emma to write to you.’
It was Harry’s turn to punch his friend. ‘OK,’ he said. ‘But we’d better get going before anyone finds out what we’re up to.’
‘I’m not in the habit of travelling third class,’ said Giles as the train pulled out of Temple Meads.
‘Well, you’d better get used to it while I’m paying,’ said Harry.
‘So tell me, Harry, what’s your friend Captain Tarrant up to? I know the government has appointed him Director of the Citizens Displacement Unit, which sounds pretty impressive, but I’m not sure what he actually does.’
‘What it says,’ said Harry. ‘He’s responsible for finding accommodation for refugees, in particular those families who are escaping the tyranny of Nazi Germany. He says he’s carrying on his father’s work.’
‘Class act, your friend Cap