The West Winford Incident

by John Parker

  The end of a perfect evening and genuine tears were shed, as Ivan and Dave made their farewells. Dave felt unusually emotional and wondered how enmity could arise between nations when, at the individual level, such harmony was possible.

  Swept up by the emotion of the occasion, Dave made a decision. Bugger the SSA – he had burned his boats anyway. He asked Ivan to pass on a few serious words to Sasha. Ivan was puzzled but agreed. Dave looked earnestly at Sasha as he spoke. He stressed the importance of what he wished to say in relation to the Winford failure and went on to summarise his recent results, from which it was clear that steam impurities were not responsible. Consequently all turbines of similar design, including those at Norvokosky, were at serious risk of failure. He realised that it was unlikely that any real action would be taken, but he implored Sasha, to at least endeavour to get routine overspeed testing suspended, as that was when the stresses on the discs were highest and therefore the risk of failure, greatest. Sasha understood and thanked him, adding that he would report Dave’s comments to his superior, as he was not senior enough to be able to make such a decision himself. He was pessimistic, however, that he would be able to convince his superiors, as they had received a report saying that steam contamination was to blame for the British failure. It would, he thought, require a revised report in print to have any influence. Dave understood and told Sasha that it would be published shortly. He felt that could do no more.

  How strange, he later thought, that he had hugged Elena and Sasha before leaving, which was so out of character for him, and yet it had seemed so appropriate – was this all due to the vodka?

  Next day, the official visit concluded with a small reception. Soon Dave was seated, gazing through the window of his British Airways plane, upon the bustling scene that traditionally surrounds the carcass of a loading aircraft. He felt so fortunate to have been selected for such a trip. Almost ready, he thought; the fuel tankers, luggage buggies and stairways had scuttled away. Just the chap wearing earmuffs remaining, waiting to give the pilot the thumbs-up. A roar down the runway and through the window all the things that go to make up a modern international airport, shrank to model proportions. Then into the clouds.

  On the journey, Dave found himself inexplicably emotional as the miles passed. It had only needed a few days away from home to make him appreciate just how much he valued his family and the routine of his life. This had been brought into even sharper focus following the visit to Sasha’s.

  How precious these things were and yet how quickly he had pushed them into the background over the past months, in pursuit of his personal ambitions. He vowed to urgently redress the situation. He would continue to pursue his work conscientiously, but not to the detriment of his family. He thought about his evening with Pauline and how elated it had made him feel to be, albeit briefly, taken back to the tangled emotions and excitement of his youth. But at what cost? The stupidity of it. Sue and the girls meant the world to him and yet he’d jeopardised everything on a thoughtless, selfish, whim. Thank goodness Pauline had declined to take things further. He’d been a bloody fool. Well, from now on, the family came first. This had, indeed, been a timely reminder.

  Back on the A4 these thoughts suddenly crystallised, he was jolted into the immediate. His technical note would be being prepared for publication. Christ! His heart began thumping, almost bursting through his chest. God! What had he done? In less than three weeks’ time, the shit would hit the fan and no mistake. He willed himself to forget it until then and worked hard to take in pleasant thoughts as he passed the White Horse. What a lot had happened since he’d last walked up to the summit.

  It was an emotional return as all three ‘girls’ rushed eagerly to greet him and he settled down to a real cup of tea. Jo and Katy bustled around and were close at hand when their father reached into his holdall and, in the best conjurors’ tradition, plucked out two brightly coloured parcels. Both girls were in a cooperative mood and so synchronised their unwrapping to be sure not to spoil their sister’s surprise. Maybe not such a surprise when they found, carefully wrapped within the box, a set of brightly painted, lime-wood, Matryoshka dolls, for which Russia is famous. The girls were delighted and, after kissing their father, they went to their rooms to decide where to place all six dolls to best advantage.

  Dave asked after Sue’s progress with her family history, on this occasion with genuine interest. She said that, although whilst he was away she had had to stay near home, she had been able to settle down with all her information and make plans as to how best to solve some of the problems. Dave gave Sue a potted history of his trip and she could tell that it had been more than just a technical exchange. It was clear that he had been touched, at a much deeper level, than could be explained by purely technical matters.

  Dave decided on an early night as, although not jet-lagged, his biological clock seemed a little disturbed. Sue said that she would follow him up. Dave lay on the bed and the tears flowed freely, which for the life of him he couldn’t explain. Was it just the reunion with Sue and the girls or something more complex? Perhaps something to do with Sasha’s family? He thought back to the evening shared with Sasha, Elena and their girls such a loving home and clearly so happy despite the hardships of daily life in the Soviet Union. An example to many western families, who enjoy a comfortable lifestyle and yet still did not find the contentment of the Denisov family. Certainly, he felt that they had been instrumental in reminding him of the importance of the family unit.

  *

  With some trepidation, Dave returned to work. He felt guilty about his secret, which he felt would be obvious to his colleagues. Would someone have found out whilst he had been away? Maybe the typist had made some unguarded remark. However, he need not have worried, as his return to work was characterised by an eagerness on the part of his colleagues, to bring him up to date with significant developments. They passed quickly over the routine work. Eagerly they vied with each other to pass on the big news. Something, it seemed, had revived the interest of the national press in the West Winford incident. They had returned to the subject with a vengeance and had, in no uncertain terms, accused the Authority of suppressing results and orchestrating an elaborate cover up. Though the headlines were not identical, they all carried the same message – ‘SSA Cover-up – Widespread Threat to Power Supplies’ being the theme. Gritty went on to say that this was not the biggest surprise. On reading the articles they had learned that the revelations were nothing to do with West Winford, but concerned the discovery of extensive cracking of turbine discs at a Welsh industrial power plant. The defects had apparently been found during NDT inspection. The newspaper reports claimed that the results had been suppressed by senior figures within the SSA and an inquiry had been ordered.

  “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.

  23

  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:

  ‘Sorry about the old man’s formality – just remember coats and wellies and we hope to be able to dig out a dry crust or two for you to munch on – Pam’

  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 solv
ed. 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.”