The Sins of the Father (The Clifton Chronicles, #2)(90)

Harry was reminded of the photograph of himself as a boy that his mother kept on the mantelpiece in Still House Lane. He didn’t have to be told that this was his child and he felt a thrill he couldn’t have begun to imagine before. He studied the boy more closely as he leapt up and down on the bed – his fair hair, blue eyes and square jaw, just like Harry’s father.

‘Oh my God,’ said Harry, and fell into a deep sleep.



When he woke again, Emma was sitting on the bed beside him. He smiled and took her hand.

‘Now I’ve met my son, any other surprises?’ he asked. Emma hesitated, before adding with a sheepish grin, ‘I’m not sure where to start.’

‘At the beginning possibly,’ said Harry, ‘like any good story. Just remember that the last time I saw you was on our wedding day.’

Emma began with her trip to Scotland and the birth of their son Sebastian. She’d just pressed the doorbell of Kristin’s apartment in Manhattan, when Harry fell asleep.



When he woke again, she was still with him.

Harry liked the sound of Great-aunt Phyllis and her cousin Alistair, and although he could only just remember Detective Kolowski, he would never forget Sefton Jelks. When Emma came to the end of her story she was on a plane crossing the Atlantic back to England, sitting next to Mr Harold Macmillan.

Emma presented Harry with a copy of The Diary of a Convict. All Harry said was, ‘I must try and find out what happened to Pat Quinn.’

Emma found it difficult to find the right words.

‘Was he killed by the landmine?’ Harry asked quietly.

Emma bowed her head. Harry didn’t speak again that night.



Each day produced new surprises because, inevitably, everyone’s life had moved on in the five years since Harry had seen them.

When his mother came to visit him the following day, she was on her own. He was so proud to learn that she was excelling at reading and writing, and was deputy manager of the hotel, but was saddened when she admitted she had never opened the letter delivered by Dr Wallace before it disappeared.

‘I thought it was from a Tom Bradshaw,’ she explained.

Harry changed the subject. ‘I see you’re wearing an engagement ring, as well as a wedding ring.’

His mother blushed. ‘Yes, I wanted to see you on my own, before you met your stepfather.’

‘My stepfather?’ said Harry. ‘Anyone I know?’

‘Oh yes,’ she said, and would have told him who she’d married, if he hadn’t fallen asleep.



The next time Harry woke it was the middle of the night. He switched on the bedside light and began to read The Diary of a Convict. He smiled several times before he reached the last page.

Nothing Emma told him about Max Lloyd came as a surprise, especially after Sefton Jelks had made a reappearance. However, he was surprised when Emma told him that the book had been an instant bestseller, and that the follow-up was doing even better.

‘The follow-up?’ enquired Harry.

‘The first diary you wrote, about what happened to you before you were sent to Lavenham, has just been published in England. It’s racing up the charts here, as it did in America. That reminds me, Mr Guinzburg keeps asking when he can expect your first novel, the one you hinted at in The Diary of a Convict?’

‘I’ve got enough ideas for half a dozen,’ Harry said.

‘Then why don’t you get started?’ asked Emma.



When Harry woke that afternoon, his mother and Mr Holcombe were standing by his side, holding hands as if they were on their second date. He’d never seen his mother looking so happy.

‘You can’t be my stepfather,’ Harry protested, as the two shook hands.

‘I most certainly am,’ said Mr Holcombe. ‘Truth is, I should have asked your mother to be my wife twenty years ago, but I simply didn’t think I was good enough for her.’

‘And you’re still not good enough, sir,’ said Harry with a grin. ‘But then, neither of us ever will be.’

‘Truth be known, I married your mother for her money.’

‘What money?’ said Harry.

‘The ten thousand dollars Mr Jelks sent, which made it possible for us to buy a cottage in the country.’

‘For which we will be eternally grateful,’ chipped in Maisie.

‘Don’t thank me,’ said Harry. ‘Thank Emma.’

If Harry was taken by surprise when he discovered that his mother had married Mr Holcombe, it was nothing compared to the shock when Giles walked into the room, dressed in the uniform of a lieutenant in the Wessex Regiment. If that wasn’t enough, his chest was covered in combat medals, including the Military Cross. But when Harry asked how he’d won it, Giles changed the subject.

‘I’m planning to stand for Parliament at the next election,’ he announced.

‘To which seat have you granted this honour?’ asked Harry.

‘Bristol Docklands,’ Giles replied.

‘But that’s a safe Labour seat.’

‘And I intend to be the Labour candidate.’

Harry made no attempt to hide his surprise. ‘What caused this Saint Paul-like conversion?’ he asked.

‘A corporal I served with on the frontline called Bates—’