Thursday

by David Ridgway

  We need to be in the city at nine o’clock, she thought. If I wake Michael at seven, we should be at breakfast by half past and ready to leave by quarter past eight. With this weather, we’ll have to get a cab. I know that Michael uses someone, so I’ll get the number and phone him while Michael’s shaving. Everything else is ready.

  She blow-dried her hair and slipped into her dress. She had transformed it from the bedraggled article that was soaked the evening before. It was now crisp, dry and figure enhancing. She applied a little perfume just below her ears on her neck and checked her watch. It was five to seven. She went to the bed and, leaning over Michael, she gently shook his shoulder. Michael grunted, opened his eyes and looked up. Seeing Alice already dressed and ready for the day, he panicked.

  “What time is it?” he gasped.

  “It’s OK,” she answered, calming him. “It’s just coming up to seven o’clock. There’s plenty of time for you to shave and shower. Yours clothes are all dried and pressed. I’m just nipping downstairs to make sure that breakfast will be ready at half past. I need to phone for a cab. You have the number of a specific chap, don’t you?”

  “What? Oh yes! Thank you, Alice. You seem to have everything sorted out.” Michael got out of bed and started to walk to the bathroom.

  “I need that telephone number.” Alice gently reminded him.

  “Oh! Right. Hang on a sec.” Michael went to his briefcase and opened it. He saw his speech neatly prepared and realised that his heart was already starting to race. Andy Greene’s card was in a pocket in the lid. He took it out and handed it to Alice.

  “I’m sorry about last night,” he murmured, with his eyes averted from hers.

  “That’s OK. Don’t think about it,” she replied.

  “But it’s just not like me.” He looked at her, pleading silently for understanding and comfort.

  “It really is OK,” she repeated. She put her hand on his arm. “These things happen and I do appreciate that you’ll be under some stress just now. Now, hurry up and get shaved. I’m going downstairs to sort out breakfast.” She turned away from him and left the room.

  Downstairs, it was still quiet. Alice looked into the dining room, but there was no one there. She opened the door to the basement to go down to the kitchen. As she emerged from the stairway, she could hear noises coming from the kitchen. She opened the door and saw Betty, who was boiling a kettle.

  “Can I help you, dear?”

  “Yes, please. Mr Varley, from room 1, has to be away promptly at quarter past eight. Will it be possible to have our breakfast ready for half past seven please?”

  “That’ll be no problem, love,” Betty replied. “Do you know what you want for breakfast?”

  “We’ll both have bacon and eggs please.”

  “Do you want any grilled tomatoes and mushrooms? Or baked beans, perhaps?”

  “Oh, thanks. We’ll both have grilled tomatoes as well, please.”

  “As soon as you go into the dining room, just press the bell inside the doorway. I’ll then start your eggs. Do you want tea or coffee? And brown or white toast?”

  “Tea for me and coffee for Mr Varley, please. And we’ll have a mixture of toast. Thanks.”

  “That’s fine, dear,” Betty said. “Everything will be ready for you.”

  Alice left the kitchen and returned to the reception area by the stairs. She looked at the card Michael had given her. Gracious, she thought. That’s Andy. He’s going to get a surprise! She switched on her iPhone and dialled the number. It rang seemingly for ages before a somewhat sleepy voice muttered “Hello. Who’s that?”

  “Good morning, Andy,” Alice spoke briskly. “This is Alice, from Le Grove Investments. I have a job for you. Can you drive Mr Varley and me into the city this morning? We are staying at the Gloucester Palace Hotel and we need to leave at quarter past eight. That’s just about an hour from now. Can you do that?”

  “Hang on a sec.” Alice could hear Andy moving around. “It’ll be tight but, yes, I can be there in an hour. What are you doing there?” he continued, his curiosity getting the better of him.

  Alice cut him off. “I don’t think you’ve got time to chatter. I suggest you get organised and get over to Kensington as soon as possible.”

  “Right,” he replied and realised that the phone was dead. Alice had already rung off.

  She returned to the room, where Michael was already dressed and just putting on his shoes.

  “Breakfast will be ready as planned,” Alice announced. “The taxi will be here at quarter past eight. We’d better go down.”

  She gave him back his card and held the door for him.

  Rising regularly each day at six o’clock, Sebastian Fortescue Brown was already in the dining room when Michael Varley entered with Alice just behind. Mm, he thought. A gentleman would hold the door for a lady. Alice pressed the bell push. They went to a table near the window.

  He nodded politely to Michael, before returning to his copy of the Daily Telegraph. Michael acknowledged him and sat down.

  “Isn’t that Mr Sebastian Fortescue Brown?” Alice asked Michael.

  “Yes,” he replied.

  “I knew I had seen him before,” Alice commented, as Betty entered the room. “I didn’t make the connection when he came to the office, but it’s all dropped into place now.”

  Betty went to a dumb waiter and took out a tray with the tea, coffee and toast. She placed these on their table and returned to the dumb waiter, where there were two breakfasts of two fried eggs, bacon, with a grilled tomato each presented on a separate plate.

  “Be careful!” she cautioned them. “The plates are very hot. If there’s anything else you need, just press the bell.”

  “Thank you,” Alice replied. “And thanks for getting it all done on time.” She smiled at Betty.

  Breakfast was finished by eight o’clock and they returned to the bedroom, where they collected their bags and put on their coats. Outside the weather remained just as bad, with dark skies, high winds and driving rain.

  Slowly, the tide receded and Low Water was reached in the middle of the morning. The river level above the Thames Barrier hardly dropped at all and below, the sea level only reluctantly receded. By Low Water, at 10.45 hrs, it was almost as though the tide hadn’t really ebbed at all and the wind was creating really large breakers that were crashing into the sea wall.

  The CEO of the Environment Agency had briefed his Chairman, who felt that the situation was so grave that it was necessary to request an urgent meeting with the Prime Minister. This had been arranged for ten o’clock, when the Home Secretary, the Defence Secretary, the Environment Secretary and the Chancellor would all be present.

  As soon as David left to go to school, Sarah Varley drove Jackie to her home on the other side of Richmond Park near Wimbledon, where she quickly ran inside to get changed ready for college. Jackie’s mother, Annabel Bleasedale, invited Sarah inside for a cup of coffee.

  “Thank you so much for looking after Jackie last night.”

  “Well, they both arrived home looking like drowned scarecrows,” replied Sarah. “They both needed a shower straightaway, if only to warm up, so it would have been well after two o’clock by the time I could have driven her home.”

  “It made a lot of sense to me as well!”

  Chatting away like two old friends, Annabel took Sarah into the kitchen and put on the kettle. Upstairs, they could hear Jackie as she changed into suitable clothes for college. It wasn’t long before their conversation turned to the weather.

  “As we came down Petersham Road, we could see that the river was very high.”

  “This rain won’t have been helping. My husband was telling me that the Environment Agency is so concerned that all leave has been cancelled.”

  “What does he do?”

  “He’s a Chief Superintendent with the Police based at Scotland Yard. I’m not too sure exactly what he does. He keeps all that away from the family. Jackie tells me that your
Michael is something in the city.”

  “Yes. He works for a small investment bank called Le Grove Investments. He’s at a conference this morning, making the welcoming speech for all the other delegates.” She looked at her watch. “It’s half past nine, so I expect he’ll just about be starting.”

  “Is it? Already? I must get Jackie off to college.” She went to the kitchen door and called up the stairs. “Are you ready?”

  “Just coming.”

  Sarah said, “If it’s any help, I can drop Jackie off on my way back home. We passed her college on the way here.”

  “Are you sure? That’s really kind.” Just at that moment, Jackie appeared in the doorway in jeans, sweater and coat, with her bag over her shoulder.

  “Do you want some breakfast?” her mother enquired.

  “I’ll get some at college.”

  “Come on,” said Sarah. “You need to be there for ten, don’t you?”

  They got back into Sarah’s car and drove off in the direction of Kingston on Thames.

  The impromptu cabinet meeting had not gone well. The Prime Minister and his ministers were firstly brought up to date with the weather situation. The low pressure, centred over Oxford, had deepened further and was causing hurricane force winds in the English Channel. There had been some local flooding along the south coast, but the wind damage had been much more severe in northern France and Belgium.

  The snow in Scotland was continuing to fall and the wind was creating unprecedented drifting. In northern England, the M62 was closed and unlikely to open for at least another 24 hours. The river Ouse was swollen and York was under Flood Alert. There was also some flooding along the east coast but High Tide had passed with no reports of significant damage.

  “That’s basically where we are, Prime Minister.”

  “A rather comprehensive report of the current situation,” he replied. “But what of the next 24 hours?”

  “My worry, Prime Minister, is that the hurricane blowing eastwards up the Channel has denied the natural ebbing of the tide. Whereas the water should have fallen around 10 metres, it has only fallen an estimated 4 metres. This means that there is already too much water in the Thames estuary, with the tide beginning to flow once again. This will put the estuary and possibly even London under severe threat.”

  “The Agency advised us of a potential flood threat in the east of the country. Did this materialise?”

  “No, Prime Minister, although the whole situation in Scotland and the east of England is still under careful observation. My concern in the east is that we have issued severe flood warnings on previous occasions, following which no significant flooding occurred. This only serves to compromise the effect of issuing such warnings again.”

  “You mean, the local people will not take your advice and won’t evacuate.”

  "Exactly, Prime Minister. Although the situation in the north east appears less severe than the Channel, Kent and the Thames estuary.

  “I must also add that the depression just off the Norwegian coast is also causing concern, because it appears still to be deepening. This is making the wind rise in a southerly direction. This, in turn, is forcing the sea to surge in a southerly direction.”

  The Prime Minister looked quizzically at his colleagues. The Environment Minister raised his head and asked, “What is the effect of the closing of the Thames Barrier? When I came in this morning, the river seemed to be extraordinarily high. Is the barrier retaining too much water?”

  “As soon as the tide had receded sufficiently, the barrier was lifted and the river level has started to reduce. It isn’t going down fast enough, of course, because the outflow is restricted with the amount of seawater downstream in the estuary. The barrier will have to be closed again sometime between 13.00 and 14.00 hours and the concern is that, above the barrier, with the river taking in so much flood water upstream, there could well be localised flooding of varying severity.”

  “What does that mean?” asked the Home Secretary. “‘Of varying severity’?”

  "Well, we don’t know where nor by how much. Of course, we do know where the likely flood areas are. These have been mapped and well publicised for many years. It’s more a question of what we should do because it is impractical to evacuate all these areas. That would mean the movement of millions of people, most of whom will be away from home anyway, because it’s an ordinary working day.

  “I can only advise, Prime Minister.” The Chairman of the Environment Agency continued, as he looked round the Cabinet table and commented, “If it were down to me, I would advise people to make their way home immediately and then to sit out the storm at home. I don’t know how impractical that might be, but I can imagine it will place an intolerable strain on public transport. On the other hand, to reduce panic and to be able to monitor the situation as it unfolds, it might be better to make no comment at all, other than to raise the issue of potential flooding in London and the south east.”

  “I agree,” said the Prime Minister. “Without access to specific facts, there is no other way forward. Please issue a media statement, worded specifically to alert but not alarm.”

  The sight of the river as he walked to work, was nagging away at Fred all morning. He considered whether it was a trick of the light and the rain. By nine o’clock, with all his paperwork complete, he was about to buckle down to some serious studying connected with his impending promotion. The thought of the river, however, kept creeping back into his mind, so he decided to climb the training tower to take another look. As he emerged onto the viewing platform, he felt the full force of the wind. Although the rain had lessened a little, the sky was still dark and menacing.

  From the top, when he looked to the east, he could see the river after passing the Isle of Dogs, down towards the Thames Barrier. To the south, however, much of his view of Millwall was obscured by the Canary Wharf tower blocks, but he had a good view to the west towards the city of London. Between the rain squalls he saw that the Barrier was still open, but that the water on the far side seemed as though it was still High Tide.

  I was right, he thought. The water is still very high and it hardly seems to be moving. High Tide was at half past four, so it should almost be Low Water now. This is really strange.

  He now realised that the pair of binoculars, kept in his office, would be more than useful and decided to fetch them. When he reached the ground, he crossed the training area and entered the main building. He put his head into the canteen and was seen by his crew.

  “Hi, boss. We’ve just boiled the kettle. You want some coffee?”

  “Yeah! Great.” Fred went in and sat down.

  “Blimey, Boss, you’re all wet! Where’ve you been in all this weather?”

  “I’ve just been to the top of the tower.”

  “Needed the exercise? Bit of middle age spread?” His crew joined in the good-natured banter.

  “Listen, guys,” Fred responded, looking round at them all. “I’m a bit worried, because the river is still so high.”

  “Well, it should be after all this rain.”

  "I suppose so, but we’re only an hour from Low Water and the river still seems pretty high to me. I checked the Barrier and it’s open, but there doesn’t appear to be much flow. I came down to collect the binoculars to take a closer look.

  “I’m going to call the Environment Agency for an update. They’ll have their hands full, I expect, but I know a guy that works there. I’ll call him on his mobile. As soon as I’m fully briefed, I’ll get back to you all.” He stood up, picked up the mug of coffee and went to his office.

  It took some time before his friend picked up. “Hi, Fred. You on duty, today?”

  “Yeah! Look, I’m worried about the height of the Thames. We’re an hour from Low Water, the Barrier is open, but there seems to be no outflow.”

  “You’re absolutely right,” agreed his friend. “Look, Fred, we’ve got a situation building up here. The gales in the Channel have stopped the tide from ebbi
ng properly. There’s been an enormous amount of flooding on the continent. It’s still raining heavily right across the country from the Chilterns to London. Several rivers have already gone over. Our Governor decided to brief the Cabinet direct and is at Downing Street right now. The tide will turn in about 40 minutes and we’ll be closing the Barrier again. I reckon you can expect some flooding in London with this lot.”

  “Are you serious?” asked Fred.

  “Can’t put it plainer, mate.”

  “Cheers, Jim. Appreciate the info. Let’s get a pint together soon.”

  He put down the phone and sat there for a couple of minutes, mentally analysing the information and planning how best to organise the station’s resources to respond to the situation. He grabbed the binoculars and went back up the tower. As he emerged at the top for the second time, the rain was still drifting past in heavy squalls, as though a giant hand was opening and closing enormous net curtains. Once again, he turned to the east and, as he stared at the Thames Barrier, he saw the massive gates being hydraulically lifted into position. They must be more concerned with the sea than the river flood water, he thought.

  Nature, of course, when she is so minded, can make mankind look pathetic and particularly feebleminded. Sensible plans and strategies, when calculated on paper, can fall apart like tissue paper lanterns in the rain. A wrong word here and a locked door there can have massive implications that are completely out of balance with the norm.

  The media statement was written and issued to all the appropriate channels.

  The Environment Agency, on behalf of the Government, advises that the current weather conditions are likely to prevail for the next 24 hours. The heavy rainfall has already caused local flooding throughout the Thames Basin and there is every likelihood of further flooding both in the London area and throughout the south east. The emergency services are already dealing with a number of fallen trees. However, all major roads and railway routes remain open.