HARRY AND EMMA

1964–1965

1

“HRH,” MUMBLED HARRY as he came out of a drowsy half-sleep. He sat up with a start and switched on his bedside light, then slipped out of bed and walked quickly across to the vase of lilies. He read the message from the Queen Mother for a second time. Thank you for a memorable day in Bristol. I do hope my second home has a successful maiden voyage. It was signed, HRH Queen Elizabeth the Queen Mother.

“Such a simple mistake,” said Harry. “How could I have missed it?” He grabbed his dressing gown and switched on the cabin lights.

“Is it time to get up already?” inquired a sleepy voice.

“Yes it is,” said Harry. “We’ve got a problem.”

Emma squinted at her bedside clock. “But it’s only just gone three,” she protested, looking across at her husband, who was still staring intently at the lilies. “So what’s the problem?”

“HRH isn’t the Queen Mother’s title.”

“Everyone knows that,” said Emma, still half asleep.

“Everyone except the person who sent these flowers. Why didn’t they know that the correct way to address the Queen Mother is as Her Majesty, not Her Royal Highness. That’s how you address a princess.”

Emma reluctantly got out of bed, padded across to join her husband, and studied the card for herself.

“Ask the captain to join us immediately,” said Harry. “We need to find out what’s in that vase,” he added, before falling to his knees.

“It’s probably only water,” said Emma, reaching out a hand.

Harry grabbed her wrist. “Look more closely, my darling. The vase is far too big for something as delicate as a dozen lilies. Call the captain,” he repeated, with more urgency this time.

“But the florist could just have made a mistake.”

“Let’s hope so,” Harry said as he began to walk toward the door. “But it’s not a risk we can afford to take.”

“Where are you going?” asked Emma as she picked up the phone.

“To wake Giles. He has more experience with explosives than I do. He spent two years of his life planting them at the feet of advancing Germans.”

When Harry stepped into the corridor he was distracted by the sight of an elderly man disappearing in the direction of the grand staircase. He was moving far too quickly for an old man, Harry thought. He knocked firmly on Giles’s cabin door, but it took a second demanding bang with his clenched fist before a sleepy voice said, “Who’s that?”

“Harry.”

The urgency in his voice caused Giles to jump out of bed and open the door immediately. “What’s the problem?”

“Come with me,” said Harry without explanation.

Giles pulled on his dressing gown and followed his brother-in-law down the corridor and into the stateroom.

“Good morning, sis,” he said to Emma, as Harry handed him the card and said, “HRH.”

“Got it,” said Giles after studying the card. “The Queen Mother couldn’t have sent the flowers. But if she didn’t, then who did?” He bent down and took a closer look at the vase. “Whoever it was could have packed an awful lot of Semtex in there.”