The Sins of the Father (The Clifton Chronicles, #2)(20)

‘Can I help you?’ said a voice.

Emma swung round to see a tall man in a long white coat. She immediately understood why Peggy had a crush on him.

‘I’ve just started on the information desk,’ she blurted out, ‘and I’m meant to be finding out where everything is.’

‘I’m Simon Parkinson,’ he said, giving her a friendly smile. ‘Now you’ve found out where I am, you’re most welcome to drop in at any time.’

‘Thank you,’ said Emma. She quickly stepped back into the corridor, closed the door behind her and hurried away. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had flirted with her, but she wished it had been Dr Wallace. She spent the rest of the morning exploring each deck until she felt she’d mastered the ship’s layout and would be able to tell any passenger where everything was with more confidence.

She was looking forward to spending the afternoon testing out her new skills, but Peggy asked her to go over the passenger files in the same way she’d studied the ship. Emma sat alone in the back office, learning about people she would never see again in her life.

In the evening she made an attempt to eat supper, beans on toast and a glass of lemonade, but she was back in her cabin soon afterwards, hoping to catch some sleep in case the engineer returned.

When the door opened, the light in the corridor woke her. Emma couldn’t make out who it was that entered the cabin, but it certainly wasn’t the engineer, because his feet didn’t reach the wall. She lay awake for forty minutes, and didn’t get back to sleep until the door had opened and closed again.



Emma quickly became accustomed to the routine of the daily work followed by the nocturnal visits. These visits didn’t vary greatly, only the men, although on one occasion the amorous visitor headed for Emma’s bunk and not Peggy’s.

‘Wrong girl,’ said Emma firmly.

‘Sorry,’ came back the reply, before he changed direction. Peggy must have assumed she had fallen asleep, because after the couple had made love, Emma could hear every word of their whispered conversation.

‘Do you think your friend’s available?’

‘Why, have you taken a shine to her?’ giggled Peggy.

‘No, not me, but I know someone who’d like to be the first man to unbutton Dana’s uniform.’

‘Not a hope. She’s got a boyfriend back home in Bristol, and I’m told even Dr Parkinson didn’t make an impression on her.’

‘Pity,’ said the voice.



Peggy and Trudy often talked about the morning that nine sailors from the Devonian had been buried at sea before breakfast. With some subtle prompts, Emma was able to gain information that neither her grandfather nor Maisie could possibly have known. But with only three days left before they reached New York, she was no nearer to discovering if it was Harry or Lieutenant Bradshaw who’d survived.

On the fifth day, Emma took charge of the desk for the first time, and there were no surprises. The surprise came on the fifth night.

When the cabin door opened at whatever hour it was, a man once again headed for Emma’s bunk, but this time when she said, ‘Wrong girl,’ firmly, he left immediately. She lay awake wondering who it could possibly have been.

On the sixth day, Emma learnt nothing new about Harry or Tom Bradshaw, and was beginning to fear that she might arrive in New York without any leads to follow up. It was during dinner that night that she decided to ask Peggy about ‘the one that survived’.

‘I only met Tom Bradshaw once,’ said Peggy, ‘when he was roaming around the deck with his nurse. Well, come to think of it, he wasn’t exactly roaming, because the poor man was on crutches.’

‘Did you speak to him?’ asked Emma.

‘No, he seemed very shy. In any case, Kristin didn’t let him out of her sight.’

‘Kristin?’

‘She was the hospital nurse at the time, worked alongside Dr Wallace. Between them, they undoubtedly saved Tom Bradshaw’s life.’

‘So you never saw him again?’

‘Only when we docked in New York, and I spotted him going ashore with Kristin.’

‘He left the ship with Kristin?’ said Emma anxiously. ‘Was Dr Wallace with them?’

‘No, just Kristin and her boyfriend Richard.’

‘Richard?’ said Emma, sounding relieved.

‘Yes, Richard something. I can’t remember his surname. He was the third officer. Not long afterwards he married Kristin, and we never saw either of them again.’

‘Was he a good-looking man?’ asked Emma.

‘Tom or Richard?’ asked Peggy.

‘Can I get you a drink, Peg?’ asked a young man Emma had never seen before, but had a feeling she would be seeing in profile later that night.

Emma was right, and she didn’t sleep before, during or after the visit, as she had something else on her mind.



The following morning, for the first time on the voyage, Emma was standing behind the information desk waiting for Peggy to appear.

‘Shall I prepare the passenger list for disembarkation?’ she asked when Peggy finally arrived and lifted the counter flap.

‘You’re the first person I’ve ever known to volunteer for that job,’ said Peggy, ‘but be my guest. Someone has to make sure it’s up to date in case immigration decides to double-check any of the passengers’ details once we’ve docked in New York.’