The West Winford Incident (22 page)

“I reckon that you should be clear to publish the rig results now,” he concluded, “now that the whole thing is out in the public domain.”

Dave's mind was scrambled. The colour drained from his face and he felt that he was visibly shaking. If Ian and Gritty noticed, they didn't comment. He showed genuine surprise at learning this, which of course he was, though he suspected that he knew the source of the leak to the press. He tried to speak calmly and said that he would take it up with Tony. He greeted the prospect of having his own actions becoming public a great deal more calmly than would have been the case two weeks earlier. The whole place seemed to have gone mad.

He met Tony soon afterwards and was told officially of the press disclosure. This had resulted in actions being taken at a senior level, the most decisive of which was to shut down Winford immediately. Thornton was still operating for the moment. This was necessary to bridge the gap, while some of the mothballed older power stations were being re-commissioned, by the various utilities to take up the shortfall in supply, which the loss of Thornton would create. The Strategic Supplies Authority were naturally under the spotlight and an investigation was underway to discover the source of the leak.

“It has been agreed, in view of the changed circumstances, that you should get your technical note out as soon as possible,” said Tony. “The official line is that we might as well get some benefit and show that we've nothing to hide.”

Later, after checking through his mail and dealing with the most immediate demands, Dave settled down to write a letter of thanks to Ivan at the Electrical Institute of Moscow. He mentioned some of the things that had most impressed him on the technical side, as well as their pleasant social outings together. He also wrote a brief personal note to Sasha and his family, which he asked Ivan to be kind enough to translate and forward on to him. He enclosed a copy of his technical note, but wondered if any action would result

A phone call brought more welcome news.

“Mr Harrison? It's Bernard Cracknel here from the
Digest
. I've been trying to contact you regarding your submission. Bad news, I'm afraid. We are not going to be able to publish your technical note in our forthcoming issue. Simply lack of space. Personally, I believe that it should go in as it is a most significant piece of work. However, we've received more submissions than usual this time and my editor had already given his personal promise to another author that it would definitely be October for him. So that's it. Sorry. I can assure you that you're guaranteed November. It's particularly annoying as you only missed the September deadline by a couple of days, when we had space to spare.”

Dave assured Mr Cracknel that he understood. He felt euphoric. He had got away with it and he had taken the difficult and honourable decision, despite the risk of serious consequences. His conscience was clear as his hesitancy had only resulted in two months' delay, which hopefully, would not prove to be significant. As soon as the information became public, surely anyone running similar plant would take immediate action such as halting overspeed testing. Dave thought that by the end of the year no utility worldwide would have any excuse not to protect their workers.

Over the next few days, Dave did say more to Sue about his trip and the strange feelings stirred. He said that he wasn't sure that it was due to a single cause, but rather the result of a combination of things, not least, the stresses of the past few months. During his visit he'd been struck by the contrast between this experience of Moscow and the people he'd met, and his earlier preconceived ideas. Before the trip his knowledge of the Soviet Union and its peoples had been fashioned by the, generally negative, propaganda reported in the west. Even though he had been sceptical of some of this, believing that most ordinary people everywhere were mainly concerned with the everyday problems of daily life rather than political matters, he had been influenced by what he'd read. So it had come as a pleasant surprise to find that the situation was different to that which he had anticipated. True, he couldn't deny that, at the official level, there seemed to be an undercurrent of menace, but that had not been the case in his personal dealings. For the most part the people that he'd met had been helpful, friendly and well, normal. He mentioned Ivan and how they had both been fortunate to be invited to visit an ordinary Moscow family for an evening and what a pleasure it had been. Although the whole experience had been heightened by the foreign setting, the genuine welcome from this charming family was undeniable. The closeness and love within this modest home and the warmth of their welcome was something he would never forget and was an example to all.

A few weeks later, the whole Harrison family were delighted to receive a small package from Sasha and Elena containing an unusual Christmas card and a photograph of Natasha and Tanya. There was a message written in very competent English, presumably from one of the girls, wishing Jo and Katy a peaceful Christmas and enclosing their address with the hope that they might become pen friends. The girls were thoroughly excited. They went straight off to compose a letter to Natasha and Tanya. Their school friends would be really jealous. They were enthusiastic as, unlike many of the duty letter writings they were normally obliged to do, in this case there was just so much to write about their lives in England and about English things in general.

*

Sue had a map of Norfolk spread out before her. She located Pulham Market, which was south of Norwich and just off the A140 on the Ipswich road. This now seemed to be an early base for her Boughton ancestors. There appeared to be four basic Boughton families, with many of the men being thatchers, though her own great, great, great grandfather, Thomas, was a wheelwright. She could imagine them in that lovely village setting, going about their daily work, little realising that over a hundred and fifty years later, they would be arousing such interest in an equally lovely village in Wiltshire.

She next turned her attention to her Potten family. She had obtained a large scale ‘Explorer' map of the Kent/East Sussex area. It seemed, from Peter's information, that this family's base was possibly in Kent, indeed from her own census information, one Thomas she had found, who could be her ancestor, had been born in Kent, at Sedley, whilst the other had been born in Mayfield, Sussex. Her map indicated that it was only about twelve miles between the villages, so either Thomas was still possible – but which one? She casually looked around the two areas and her eyes almost popped from her head when she saw a small dot marked Potten's Mill. This was near Hawkhurst, not far from Sedley, just within the Kent border. Immediately she knew that this must be the next place that she had to visit, in her quest to locate her Caroline Potten.

This was their first formal visit and when the Harrison family arrived at the main entrance to the grand house, they found the large area in front of the building full of cars, so Dave had to join the line of those that had begun to park on the grass verge alongside the drive. They made their way to the source of music and noise around the right hand side of the house and joined the crowded scene. Fortunately, the weather was good and so it had been decided to serve drinks and snacks from long tables set outside on the Eastern patio.

Dave and Sue had been surprised to receive the gold-edged, embossed card requesting the pleasure of their company below the colourful Marden family crest. Scribbled below in hasty biro was written:

Quite a few villagers were there, including Gritty and Mary. Jo and Katy went off to gather with their school chums whilst, after collecting drinks, the adults settled at a vacant table. Shortly afterwards they were greeted by His Lordship, who was touring the various groups, welcoming his guests. Sue recognised him from photographs she had seen in the local press. Although he was dressed informally on Pam's insistence, he hadn't gone so far as to relinquish his cravat. He paid especial attention to Sue and expressed the hope that his wife hadn't been leading her into mischief – with a glance at Dave.

Later Sue and Dave mingled amongst other guests, exchanging a brief word here and there. They hadn't seen a great deal of Pam, who had waved to them earlier but had clearly been busy inside the house. Sue had been surprised to catch a glimpse of Charles through one of the hall windows, whom she had recognised even though in silhouette. She still wondered about his relationship with Pam. They seemed so often together and usually when her husband was not around. Well, she supposed that it was none of her business, but even so…

Her thoughts were interrupted when she saw Peter coming from the house with Charles. They began helping themselves to food and drink. Peter, looking around, caught sight of Dave and Sue and made his way over to them. They learned from him that the main reason for the ‘do' was to celebrate the completion of the work on the East Wing of the house, which had been under renovation for over two years. It had been decided to mark this with a bonfire-night gathering. Peter thought that the renovation was a great achievement considering what the place had been like before Pam arrived. She, of course, had been the driving force behind the project and her decision to bring in Charles to oversee the interior design had been a great move. So, Sue's mystery was solved. This commercial reason for the relationship between Charles and Pam hadn't occurred to her. In a way she was a little disappointed that the less innocent reason she had ascribed hadn't been correct, as it had a touch of glamour about it.

“I'm not sure whether I ought to raise this matter with you now,” continued Peter mysteriously addressing Sue. “It's thinking about all this work that's been going on, has reminded me.”

“Goodness this does sound ominous. Please do tell.”

“Well, I'm in need of help and it's quite urgent,” Peter explained. “My local history work has been quite constant for the past four or five years. A steady stream of investigations on behalf of clients, mostly from abroad. However, in the last few months, the inquiries have about trebled, for which I believe the increase in popularity of personal genealogy is probably responsible. In short, I need an assistant and it needs to be someone who has an interest in the subject. You know how tedious some of the work can be. It could be part time, though it would require at least three days a week, but the hours could, to some extent, be flexible.” Dave glanced across and was pleased to see Sue's evident delight at the prospect that seemed to be presenting itself.

“You would be ideal, Sue, if you felt able to undertake it. You have a car, which is essential. I envisage that the work would be largely confined to the Wiltshire archives, encompassing places such as the County Record Office at Trowbridge, Salisbury Diocesan Record Office, in addition to parish churches around the county. Do have a think about it, but if you could let me know within a week or two. I need to find someone by the New Year.”

Sue did her best to contain her immediate reaction, which was excitement at the prospect. She would relish the challenge which the job offered. It was with a considerable effort of will that she resisted enthusiastic acceptance there and then. She needed to discuss it with Dave in private. She thanked Peter and assured him that she would let him know within a few days.

“Fine. Oh! Another thing is this programme from my trip to the Archway art gallery, which I mentioned. On looking through it, after I got home, I saw it contained a brief piece about your possible ancestral artist, Henry Potten. I knew you would be interested, especially as an example of one of his paintings was included.”

“How marvellous. Thank you so much.”

Pam arrived and asked Sue and Dave to stay on afterwards, which they did and as the other guests drifted away, Pam and Charles took them around the newly completed rooms, proudly displaying their achievements. It seems that modesty had prevented Peter from explaining his role in the project, as advisor upon the numerous paintings hung in the various rooms and hallways. Yet another of the talents of this unusual man.

*

Moscow – Norvokosky Power Station.

November. Peak demand. The usual noise and bustle of activity in the turbine hall. Six machines operating at full load. The floor vibrating in tune with the mechanical workhorses shimmering in the steamy heat haze – powering the socialist revolution.

In addition to the mechanics and turbine operators busy with their statuary duties, there was the inevitable army of cleaners and supernumeraries around all six turbines, applying themselves haphazardly, so it appeared, to a variety of trivial tasks with little direction or enthusiasm.

The operator of Number 3 turbine sat before the instrument control panel smoking his pipe contentedly.

“Dimitrov!”

He was startled by the voice raised above the background noise. It was the Deputy Station Manager.

“Why hasn't the overspeed test on Number 3 turbine been carried out?”

“Sasha asked us to wait. He's gone to check with the Senior Operations Engineer to see if these tests should be suspended. He has information that it was overspeed stresses alone that were responsible for the British turbine failure last year.”

“Damn him. Alexander Borisovitch has no right. Get the test started this instant.” The operator and two junior assistants did as they were ordered.

*

Leaving the Senior Operations Engineer to consult with the Station Manager, Sasha returned to find the turbine test already underway. The rev counter was up to 3,200 and rising. He was annoyed that the operator hadn't waited, it would have only been a short delay… then the noise… the tell-tale change in pitch… out of balance…

“
Bozhi Moy!
The bloody steam leaks are worse than ever.”

Immediately Sasha realised that the operator hadn't cleared the area around the turbine as he'd instructed. He could just make out a group of cleaners in the mist. Were they mad or just plain stupid?… The turbine was vibrating… increasing violence… his warning shouts were futile.

His men stood transfixed, helpless, as Sasha raced along the side of the turbine towards the LP cylinder – shouting… screaming… until lost in the fog of steam.

*

“Hi! Gritty?”

“That you Ian? I thought you'd be trekking along Hadrian's Wall by now.”

“I'm just off, but I wanted a word with Dave before he left work.”

“He's off for a few days – back after the holiday. What's the problem?”

“I forgot to let him have last week's batch of journal references. There was one in particular he would want to see. They're on my bench. Would you let him have them?”

“Sure, I'll see to it. Have a good Christmas.”

“Thanks Gritty. Same to you.”

Gritty went into the corrosion lab to make his final checks on the experiments that were to be kept running over the holiday. Amongst them were Dave's stress corrosion tests on some newer turbine disc alloys.

“Hey, get your arse in gear, beers are waiting to be drunk,” Geoff called from the doorway.

“Be with you in a tick,” said Gritty. He went to Ian's bench and scooped up the reference cards. Ian had developed an efficient system for Dave, which allowed him to check relevant references to corrosion related matters, from selected journals. Gritty took the cards with him and left them in the centre of Dave's desk. As he slipped on his jacket, he read from the top card:

USA Power Nov 1970

New Heat Exchanger Tube Material for Sea Water Cooled Power Stations.

High Purity Titanium Installed in Condenser at

Corpus Christi Power Plant Texas.

Gritty could see that Dave would be interested in that item, in connection with his Thornton seawater trials. He joined his colleagues for their Christmas booze-up. On almost any other day Gritty would have looked through all the reference cards out of interest. Although only a scientific assistant, he was keen to keep on top of things and during his time at SSD, had proved himself a valuable member of the team. Had it been any other day, he would have noted and taken in the particular significance of the next card reference:

EDF Review Dec 1970

LP Turbine Disc Failure – Second in November.

The sudden failure of a turbine disc at Xanlu Power Station in China, with serious casualties, has been reported. No details are available. This news is of some concern following so soon after the unconfirmed reports of a similar catastrophic break up of an LP turbine disc in the USSR earlier this month. It is only just over a year ago that the first failure of this kind occurred at the West Winford Power Station in the UK.

Full details of these recent failures are awaited.

Certainly Dave would have wished to have seen this earlier.

*

Earlier in the month, Dave's pulse had quickened when he received a phone call from Pauline. He asked how the bad news had been received at HQ. She maintained a business-like manner – perhaps there were other people in the office – and replied that, as he could imagine, an internal investigation was underway to find the source of the press leak. The reason for her call was to let Dave know that it had been considered necessary to have a final wind-up meeting of the Corrosion Sub-Committee before the year's end. This was required by precedent, as an established committee could not be allowed to be disbanded without an orderly closure, even in the present circumstances.

Accordingly, a week before Christmas, Dave had to make a trip to London for this final meeting. He suggested that Sue and the girls should join him and have a shopping trip and overnight stay. The evening of this announcement saw the female Harrisons busy with their final preparations. As they were spending the holiday in Birmingham in a few days' time, they were aware that time was short. The girls were making Christmas present lists for their cousins and school friends. Sue was going through the information on her Potten family history, and the discovery of Potten's Mill had intriguing possibilities.

“Which of you two is mine?” she pleaded looking at the two birth certificates for the umpteenth time. She really hoped that it was the granddaughter of the famous artist, Henry, and was encouraged, when she had looked through his details in the pamphlet Peter had given her. It included one of his pictures which, although reduced in size, clearly showed that he had a great eye for fine detail which, she thought, Jo's Hunstanton holiday efforts resembled. Sue felt that her Caroline had been a thoughtful, intelligent lady, who, of course, had helped so much with her dedicated recording of her family. She thought that her foresight should be rewarded and this would, in a small way, be appropriate. If her Caroline Potten was the granddaughter of Henry, it would provide her with details of her own ancestors back into the seventeenth century, which would be an added bonus.

She had a road atlas, showing the south east, open in order to roughly place the area of Potten's Mill (too small to be marked at this scale) in relation to London. Hmm! She mused. It was not exactly conveniently placed, but Dave had been so much more his old self since his returning from his USSR trip, so:

“Do you think that we would have time to make a small detour on our trip? It's only just in Kent,” Sue asked, with an encouraging smile. It has to be said that Dave's agreement owed as much to his hazy knowledge of geography, as it did to Sue's persuasive manner. Sue's plan was to visit Potten's Mill and possibly the surrounding area, during their London trip.

They started early, as Dave was due to be at Walton House by eleven o'clock. He had been delighted that Sue had arranged for them to park their car at Pam's London address. This was convenient for The Bonnington as well as Walton House. The journey was enlivened, with a pleasant bubble of chatter, as plans were finalised.

After parking, it was off to St. Paul's for Dave, with his female accomplices, rather predictably, heading for Oxford Street. Before taking leave of them, he gave directions to The Bonnington. He would join them there, after collecting their overnight bags from the car, en route.

*

This final sub-committee meeting, which consisted mainly of a review of recent developments, was less formal than hitherto. Even so, Pauline was her usual efficient self and showed no especial reaction towards Dave. Joe reported that the cracks in his laboratory specimens were continuing to grow in a linear fashion. The others all accepted that the discovery of severe cracking at the Welsh Petroleum Corporation's Newport site, plus Dave's crack initiation results, had overshadowed everything. They were happy to support Dave's request to publish. He was grateful, but sorry that this was the worst possible outcome for the Authority or, indeed, the whole of the electrical supply industry.