As Mr Matthews accompanied the princess out on to the lawn, Becky took Harry in the opposite direction. He followed her down the back stairs, through the kitchen and out of the tradesmen’s entrance at the side of the building.
‘I hope you have a pleasant flight home, Captain May.’
Harry made his way slowly back to the hotel, with several thoughts colliding in his mind. How he wanted to phone Emma to let her know that he’d seen Sebastian, and that he was safe and would be returning to England in a few days’ time.
After he’d arrived back at the hotel, he packed his few belongings, took his case down to the concierge’s desk and asked if there were any flights to London that evening.
‘I’m afraid it’s too late to get you on this afternoon’s BOAC flight,’ he replied. ‘But I could book you on to the Pan Am flight to New York that leaves at midnight, and from there you could—’
‘Harry!’
Harry swung round.
‘Harry Clifton! I knew it was you. Don’t you remember? We met when you addressed the Bristol Rotary Club last year?’
‘You’re mistaken, Mr Bolton,’ Harry said. ‘My name is Peter May,’ he added as Annabel walked past them carrying a suitcase. He strolled across to join her, as if they’d arranged to meet.
‘Let me help you,’ he said, taking her case and walking out of the hotel with her.
‘Thank you,’ said Annabel, looking a little surprised.
‘My pleasure.’ Harry handed their suitcases to the driver and followed her on to the bus.
‘I didn’t realize you were flying back with us, Peter.’
Neither did I, Harry wanted to tell her. ‘My brother had to get back. Some problem with the dam. But we had a great party last night, thanks to you.’
‘Where did you end up?’
‘I took him to the Majestic Hotel. You were right, the food is sensational.’
‘Tell me more. I’ve always wanted to have a meal there.’
During the drive to the airport, Harry had to invent a fortieth birthday present (an Ingersoll watch), and a three-course meal – smoked salmon, steak, of course, and lemon tart. He wasn’t impressed by his culinary imagination, and was grateful Annabel didn’t ask about the wines. He hadn’t got to bed, he told her, until three in the morning.
‘I wish I’d taken your advice on the bath as well,’ said Harry, ‘and had one before I went to bed.’
‘I took one at 4 a.m. You’d have been welcome to join me,’ she said, as the bus came to a halt outside the airport.
Harry stuck close to the crew as they made their way through customs and on to the plane. He returned to the back corner seat, wondering if he’d made the right decision or if he should have stayed put. But then he recalled Sir Alan’s words, so oft repeated. If your cover is blown, get out, and get out quickly. He felt sure he was doing the right thing – that loudmouth would be running around town telling everyone, ‘I’ve just seen Harry Clifton posing as a BOAC pilot.’
Once the other passengers had settled in their seats, the aircraft taxied out on to the runway. Harry closed his eyes. The briefcase was empty, the files destroyed. He fastened his seat belt and looked forward to a long, uninterrupted sleep.
‘This is your captain speaking. I have turned off the seat-belt signs, so you are now free to move around the aircraft.’
Harry closed his eyes again. He was just dozing off when he heard someone slump into the seat next to him.
‘I’ve worked it out,’ he said, as Harry opened one eye. ‘You were in Buenos Aires to do research for your next book. Am I right, or am I right?’
SEBASTIAN CLIFTON
1957
39
DON PEDRO WAS among the last to leave the garden party, and not until he was finally convinced that the princess would not be returning.
Sebastian joined him in the back of the Rolls. ‘This has been one of the great days of my life,’ Don Pedro repeated. Sebastian remained silent, because he couldn’t think of anything new to say on the subject. Don Pedro was clearly drunk, if not on wine, then on the thought of mixing with royalty. Sebastian was surprised that such a successful man could be so easily flattered. Suddenly, Martinez changed tack.
‘I want you to know, my boy, that if you ever need a job, there will always be one for you in Buenos Aires. The choice is yours. You could be a cowboy or a banker.