Patterson, who was now up to his knees in water, shouted, 'For God's sake you two, get yourselves into the lifeboats before it's too late!'
'Not a chance,' said the captain. 'Mr Clifton, get yourself down there and push the bastard up, then you can follow.'
Harry didn't hesitate. He lowered himself backwards, feet first, into the hold, gripping on to the ledge with his fingertips. Finally he let go and dropped into the darkness. The sloshing, oily, freezing water broke his fall and once he'd regained his balance he gripped the sides, lowered himself down into the water and said, 'Climb on to my shoulders, sir, and you should be able to reach.'
The chief engineer obeyed the fourth officer, but when he stretched up, he was still a few inches short of the deck. Harry used every ounce of strength in his body to push Patterson further up until he was able to reach the rim of the hatch and cling on by the tips of his fingers. Water was now pouring into the hold, as the ship listed further and further over. Harry placed a hand under each of Mr Patterson's buttocks and began to press like a weightlifter until the chief engineer's head appeared above the deck.
'Good to see you, Jim,' grunted the captain, as he continued to place every ounce of his weight on to the oar.
'You too, Arnold,' replied the chief engineer, as he pulled himself slowly out of the hold.
It was at that moment the last torpedo hit the sinking ship. The oar snapped in half and the iron hatch lid came crashing down on the chief engineer. Like the axe of a medieval executioner, with one slice it cleanly severed his head and slammed shut. Patterson's body fell back into the hold, landing in the water next to Harry.
Harry thanked God he couldn't see Mr Patterson in the darkness that now surrounded him. At least the water had stopped flooding in, even if it meant there was now no escape.
As the Devonian began to keel over, Harry assumed the captain must also have been killed or he surely would have been banging on the hatch trying to find some way of getting him out. As he slumped down into the water, Harry thought how ironic it was that he should go to his grave like his father, entombed in the hollow bottom of a ship. He clung to the side of the hold in one final effort to cheat death. As he waited for the water to rise inch by inch above his shoulders, his neck, his head, myriad faces flashed before him. Strange thoughts take over when you know you only have a few moments left to live.
At least his death would solve problems for so many people he loved. Emma would be released from her pledge to forsake all others for the rest of her days. Sir Walter would no longer have to worry about the implications of his father's will. In time, Giles would inherit the family title and all his father's worldly goods. Even Hugo Barrington might survive now that it would no longer be necessary for him to prove he wasn't Harry's father. Only his dear mother ...
Suddenly there was an almighty explosion. The Devonian split in two and seconds later both halves reared up like a startled horse, before the broken ship unceremoniously sank to the bottom of the ocean.
The captain of the U-boat watched through his periscope until the Devonian had disappeared below the waves, leaving in its wake a thousand brightly coloured cotton dresses and countless bodies bobbing up and down in the sea, surrounded by potatoes.
54
'CAN YOU TELL ME your name?' Harry looked up at the nurse but couldn't move his lips. 'Can you hear me?' she asked. Another American accent.
Harry managed a faint nod, and she smiled. He heard a door opening and although he couldn't see who had entered the sick bay, the nurse left him immediately, so it had to be someone in authority. Even if he couldn't see them, he could hear what they were saying. It made him feel like an eavesdropper.
'Good evening, Nurse Craven,' said an older man's voice.
'Good evening, Dr Wallace,' she replied.
'How are our two patients?'
'One's showing definite signs of improvement. The other's still unconscious.'
So at least two of us survived, thought Harry. He wanted to cheer but, although his lips moved, no words came out.
'And we still have no idea who they are?'
'No, but Captain Parker came in earlier to see how they were, and when I showed him what was left of their uniforms, he wasn't in much doubt they were both officers.'
Harry's heart leapt at the thought that Captain Havens might have survived. He heard the doctor walk over to the other bed but he couldn't turn his head to see who was lying there. A few moments later, he heard, 'Poor devil, I'll be surprised if he survives the night.'
Then you obviously don't know Captain Havens, Harry wanted to tell him, because you won't kill him off that easily.
The doctor returned to Harry's bedside and began to examine him. Harry could just make out a middle-aged man with a serious, thoughtful face. Once Dr Wallace had finished his examination, he turned away and whispered to the nurse, 'I feel a lot more hopeful about this one, although the odds are still no better than fifty-fifty after what he's been through. Keep fighting, young man,' he said, turning to face Harry, though he couldn't be sure if the patient could hear him. 'We're going to do everything in our power to keep you alive.' Harry wanted to thank him, but all he could manage was another slight nod, before the doctor walked away. 'If either of them should die during the night,' he heard the doctor whisper to the nurse, 'are you familiar with the correct procedure?'
'Yes, doctor. The captain is to be informed immediately, and the body is to be taken down to the morgue.' Harry wanted to ask how many of his shipmates were already there.
'And I'd also like to be kept informed,' added Wallace, 'even if I've turned in for the night.'
'Of course, doctor. Can I ask what the captain has decided to do with those poor devils who were already dead when we pulled them out of the water?'
'He's given an order that as they were all sailors, they are to be buried at sea, at first light tomorrow morning.'
'Why so early?'
'He doesn't want the passengers to realize just how many lives were lost last night,' the doctor added as he walked away. Harry heard a door open. 'Goodnight, nurse.'
'Goodnight, doctor,' the nurse replied, and the door closed.
Nurse Craven walked back and sat down by Harry's bedside. 'I don't give a damn about the odds,' she said. 'You're going to live.'
Harry looked up at a nurse who was hidden behind her starched white uniform and white cap, but even so, he couldn't miss the burning conviction in her eyes.
When Harry next woke, the room was in darkness apart from a glimmer of light in the far corner, probably from another room. His first thought was of Captain Havens, fighting for his life in the next bed. He prayed that he would survive and they'd be able to return to England together, when the captain would retire and Harry could sign up with any Royal Navy vessel Sir Walter could get him on.
His thoughts turned to Emma once again, and how his death would have solved so many problems for the Barrington family, that would now return to haunt them.
Harry heard the door open again and someone with an unfamiliar step walked into the sick bay. Although he couldn't see who it was, the sound of their shoes suggested two things: it was a man, and he knew where he was going. Another door opened on the far side of the room and the light became brighter.