Like two weight lifters, Harry and Giles crouched down and slowly raised the heavy vase from the table until they were both standing upright. Once they were confident they had it firmly in their grasp they moved sideways across the cabin toward the open door. Scott-Hopkins and Roberts quickly removed any obstacles in their path.

“Follow me,” said the captain, as the two men stepped into the corridor and edged their way slowly towards the grand staircase. Harry couldn’t believe how heavy the vase was. Then he remembered the giant of a man who’d carried it into the cabin. No wonder he hadn’t hung around for a tip. He was probably on his way back to Belfast by now, or sitting by a radio somewhere waiting to hear the fate of the Buckingham, and how many passengers had lost their lives.

Once they reached the bottom of the grand staircase, Harry began to count out loud as the two of them mounted each step. Sixteen steps later, he stopped to catch his breath, while the captain and the colonel held open the swing doors that led out onto the sundeck, Emma’s pride and joy.

“We need to go as far aft as possible,” said the captain. “That will give us a better chance of avoiding any damage to the hull.” Harry didn’t look convinced. “Don’t worry, it’s not too far now.”

How far is not too far, wondered Harry, who would happily have dumped the vase straight over the side. But he said nothing as they progressed inch by inch toward the stern.

“I know just how you feel,” said Giles, reading his brother-in-law’s thoughts.

They continued their snail-like progress past the swimming pool, the deck tennis court, and the sun loungers, neatly laid out in readiness for the sleeping guests to appear later that morning. Harry tried not to think how much time they had left before …

“Two minutes,” said Sergeant Roberts unhelpfully, checking his watch.

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry could see the rail at the stern of the ship. It was only a few paces away, but, like conquering Everest, he knew the last few feet were going to be the slowest.

“Fifty seconds,” said Roberts as they came to a halt at the waist-high rail.

“Do you remember when we threw Fisher into the river at the end of term?” said Giles.

“Could I ever forget?”

“So on the count of three, let’s throw him into the ocean and be rid of the bastard once and for all,” said Giles.

“One—” both men swung their arms back, but only managed a few inches, “two—” perhaps a couple more, “three—” as far as they could get, and then, with all the strength left in their bodies, they hurled the vase up into the air and over the back rail. As it came down, Harry was convinced it would land on the deck, or at best hit the rail, but it cleared it by a few inches, and landed in the sea with a faint splash. Giles raised his arms in triumph, and shouted “Hallelujah!”