Clifton Chronicles 02 - The Sins of the Father Read Online Free Page A

about, he could hear Tom Bradshaw’s father telling Jelks. Harry tried not to think about the next six years, which Mr Bradshaw didn’t care about. Had it been worth $10,000?
    He dismissed his lawyer and thought about Emma. He missed her so much, and wanted to write and tell her he was still alive, but he knew he couldn’t. He wondered what she would be doing on an autumn day in Oxford. How was her work progressing as she began her freshman year? Was she being courted by another man?
    And what of her brother, Giles, his closest friend? Now that Britain was at war, had Giles left Oxford and signed up to fight the Germans? If he had, Harry prayed that he was still alive. He thumped the side of the bunk with a clenched fist, angry that he was not being allowed to play his part. Quinn didn’t speak, assuming that Harry was suffering ‘first-night-itis’.
    And what of Hugo Barrington? Had anyone seen him since he disappeared on the day Harry should have married his daughter? Would he find a way of creeping back into favour, when everyone believed Harry was dead? He dismissed Barrington from his mind, still unwilling to accept the possibility that the man might be his father.
    When his thoughts turned to his mother, Harry smiled, hoping that she would make good use of the $10,000 Jelks had promised to send her once he’d agreed to take the place of Tom Bradshaw. With over £2,000 in the bank, Harry hoped she would give up her job as a waitress at the Grand Hotel and buy that little house in the country she’d always talked about; that was the only good thing that would come out of this whole charade.
    And what of Sir Walter Barrington, who had always treated him like a grandchild? If Hugo was Harry’s father, then Sir Walter was his grandfather. If that turned out to be the case, Harry would be in line to inherit the Barrington estate and the family title, and would in time become Sir Harry Barrington. But not only did Harry want his friend Giles, Hugo Barrington’s legitimate son, to inherit the title, even more important, he was desperate to prove that his real father was Arthur Clifton. That would still give him an outside chance of being able to marry his beloved Emma. Harry tried to forget where he’d be spending the next six years.

    At seven o’clock a siren sounded to wake those prisoners who had served long enough to enjoy a night’s sleep. You’re not in prison when you’re asleep, were the last words Quinn had muttered before falling into a deep slumber, then snoring. It didn’t bother Harry. As a snorer, his uncle Stan was in a different class.
    Harry had made up his mind about several things during his long, sleepless night. To help pass the numbing cruelty of wasted time, ‘Tom’ would be a model prisoner, in the hope that his sentence would be reduced for good behaviour. He would get a job in the library, and write a diary about what had happened before he was sentenced, and everything that took place while he was behind bars. He would keep himself fit, so that if war was still raging in Europe, he would be ready to sign up the moment he was released.
    Quinn was already dressed by the time Harry climbed down from the top bunk.
    ‘What now?’ asked Harry, sounding like a new boy on his first day of term.
    ‘Breakfast,’ said Quinn. ‘Get dressed, grab your plate and mug, and make sure you’re ready when the screw unlocks the door. If you’re a few seconds late, some officers get a kick out of slamming the door in your face.’ Harry began to pull on his trousers. ‘And don’t talk on your way down to the canteen,’ added Quinn. ‘It draws attention to yourself, which annoys the old-timers. In fact, don’t talk to anyone you don’t know until your second year.’
    Harry would have laughed, but he wasn’t sure if Quinn was joking. He heard a key turning in the lock, and the cell door swung open. Quinn shot through like a greyhound out of the slips, with his cellmate only a stride behind.