Jeffrey Archer - Only Time Will Tell

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The "Clifton Chronicles" is Jeffrey Archer's most ambitious work in four decades as an international bestselling author. The epic tale of Harry Clifton's life begins in 1920, with the chilling words, 'I was told that my father was killed in the war'. But it will be another twenty years before Harry discovers how his father really died, which will only lead him to question: who was his father? Is he the son of Arthur Clifton, a stevedore who worked in Bristol docks, or the first born son of a scion of West Country society, whose family owns a shipping line? "Only Time Will Tell" covers the years from 1920 to 1940, and includes a cast of memorable characters that "The Times" has compared to "The Forsyte Saga". Volume one takes us from the ravages of the Great War to the outbreak of the Second World War, when Harry must decide whether to take up a place at Oxford, or join the navy and go to war with Hitler's Germany. In Jeffrey Archer's masterful hands, the reader is taken on a journey that they won't want to end, and when you turn the last page of this unforgettable yarn, you will be faced with a dilemma that neither you, nor Harry Clifton could have anticipated.

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‘I’m so proud of you, my darling,’ he said. ‘Many congratulations.’

Giles bowed low in genuine respect, and Chinese whispers broke out among the congregation as the news spread from row to row.

The music stopped, and the college chaplain raised his hands and said, ‘ Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God, and in the face of this congregation, to join together this Man and this Woman, in holy matrimony…’

Emma suddenly felt nervous. She had learnt all the responses by heart but now she couldn’t recall one of them.

First it was ordained for the procreation of children…

Emma tried to concentrate on the chaplain’s words, but she couldn’t wait to escape and be alone with Harry. Perhaps they should have gone up to Scotland the night before and eloped at Gretna Green; so much more convenient for Mulgelrie Castle, she’d pointed out to Harry.

Into which holy estate these two persons present come now to be joined. Therefore if any man can show any just cause why they may not lawfully be joined together, let him now speak, or else hereafter for ever hold his peace…’

The chaplain paused, to allow a diplomatic period of time to pass before he pronounced the words, I require and charge you both , when a clear voice declared, ‘I object!’

Emma and Harry both swung round to see who could possibly have uttered two such damning words.

The chaplain looked up in disbelief, wondering for a moment if he had misheard, but all over the church, heads were turning as the congregation tried to discover who had made the unexpected intervention. The chaplain had never experienced such a turn of events before, and tried desperately to recall what he was expected to do in the circumstances.

Emma buried her head in Harry’s shoulder, while he searched among the chattering congregation, trying to find out who it was who had caused such consternation. He assumed it must be Emma’s father, but when he looked down at the front row he saw Hugo Barrington, white as a sheet, was also trying to see who had brought the ceremony to a premature halt.

The Reverend Styler had to raise his voice to be heard above the growing clamour. ‘Would the gentleman who has objected to this marriage taking place please make himself known.’

A tall, upright figure stepped out into the aisle. Every eye remained fixed on Captain Jack Tarrant as he made his way up to the altar before coming to a halt in front of the chaplain. Emma clung on to Harry, fearful he was about to be prised away from her.

‘Am I to understand, sir,’ said the chaplain, ‘that you feel this marriage should not be allowed to proceed?’

‘That is correct, sir,’ said Old Jack quietly.

‘Then I must ask you, the bride and groom and the members of their immediate family to join me in the vestry.’ Raising his voice, he added, ‘The congregation should remain in their places until I have considered the objection, and made my decision known.’

Those who had been bidden were led by the chaplain into the vestry, followed by Harry and Emma. Not one of them spoke, although the congregation continued to whisper noisily among themselves.

Once the two families had crammed themselves into the tiny vestry, the Reverend Styler closed the door.

‘Captain Tarrant,’ he began, ‘I must tell you that I alone am vested by law with the authority to decide whether this marriage should continue. Naturally I shall not come to any decision until I have heard your objections.’

The only person in that overcrowded room who appeared calm was Old Jack. ‘Thank you, chaplain,’ he began. ‘Firstly, I must apologize to you all, and in particular to Emma and Harry, for my intervention. I have spent the past few weeks wrestling with my conscience before coming to this unhappy decision. I could have taken the easy way out and simply found some excuse for not attending this ceremony today. I have remained silent until now in the hope that in time any objection would prove irrelevant. But sadly that has not proved to be the case, for Harry and Emma’s love for each other has in fact grown over the years, and not diminished, which is why it has become impossible for me to remain silent any longer.’

Everyone was so gripped by Old Jack’s words that only Elizabeth Barrington noticed her husband slip quietly out of the back door of the vestry.

‘Thank you, Captain Tarrant,’ said the Reverend Styler. ‘While I accept your intervention in good faith, I need to know what specific charges you bring against these two young people.’

‘I bring no charge against Harry or Emma, both of whom I love and admire, and believe to be as much in the dark as the rest of you. No, my charge is against Hugo Barrington, who has known for many years that there is a possibility that he is the father of both of these unfortunate children.’

A gasp went around the room as everyone tried to grasp the enormity of this statement. The chaplain said nothing until he was able to regain their attention. ‘Is there anyone present who can verify or refute Captain Tarrant’s claim?’

‘This can’t possibly be true,’ said Emma, still clinging on to Harry. ‘There must be some mistake. Surely my father can’t…’

That was the moment everyone became aware that the father of the bride was no longer among them. The chaplain turned his attention to Mrs Clifton, who was quietly sobbing.

‘I can’t deny Captain Tarrant’s fears,’ she said haltingly. It was some time before she continued. ‘I confess I did have a relationship with Mr Barrington on one occasion.’ She paused again. ‘Only once, but, unfortunately, it was just a few weeks before I married my husband – ’ she raised her head slowly – ‘so I have no way of knowing who Harry’s father is.’

‘I should point out to you all,’ said Old Jack, ‘that Hugo Barrington threatened Mrs Clifton on more than one occasion, should she ever reveal his dreadful secret.’

‘Mrs Clifton, may I be allowed to ask you a question?’ said Sir Walter gently.

Maisie nodded, although her head remained bowed.

‘Did your late husband suffer from colour-blindness?’

‘Not that I’m aware of,’ she said, barely loudly enough to be heard.

Sir Walter turned to Harry. ‘But I believe you do, my boy?’

‘Yes I do, sir,’ said Harry without hesitation. ‘Why is that of any importance?’

‘Because I am also colour-blind,’ said Sir Walter. ‘As are my son and grandson. It is a hereditary trait that has troubled our family for several generations.’

Harry took Emma in his arms. ‘I swear to you, my darling, I didn’t know anything about this.’

‘Of course you didn’t,’ said Elizabeth Barrington, speaking for the first time. ‘The only man who knew was my husband, and he didn’t have the courage to come forward and admit it. If he had, none of this need ever have happened. Father,’ she said, turning to Lord Harvey, ‘can I ask you to explain to our guests why the ceremony will not be continuing.’

Lord Harvey nodded. ‘Leave it to me, old gal,’ he said, touching her gently on the arm. ‘But what are you going to do?’

‘I’m going take my daughter as far away from this place as possible.’

‘I don’t want to go as far away as possible,’ Emma said, ‘unless it’s with Harry.’

‘I fear your father has left us with no choice,’ said Elizabeth, taking her gently by the arm. But Emma continued to cling on to Harry until he whispered, ‘I’m afraid your mother’s right, my darling. But one thing your father will never be able to do is stop me loving you, and if it takes the rest of my life, I’ll prove he’s not my father.’

‘Perhaps you’d prefer to leave by the rear entrance, Mrs Barrington,’ suggested the chaplain. Emma reluctantly released Harry and allowed her mother to take her away.

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