The Darkfall Switch

by David Lindsley

  ‘Oh, price,’ she answered quickly. ‘We’ve always been able to meet the specs. Sometimes we’ve even managed to pull a rabbit out of the hat and offer something better than the client expected, but it never made any difference: PPD always managed to undercut us.’

  ‘By much?’

  Lopez gave a bitter laugh. ‘By miles.’

  ‘But how?’

  ‘I don’t know Dan. They seem to be able to get hardware and software from their American parent at knock-down prices. We simply can’t compete.’

  Foster was still pondering the implications when she went on, ‘And from what we hear they’ve been able to repeat the trick right round the world. They even manage to beat the Germans in their own traditional markets … and the Japanese in theirs.’

  ‘Good God!’ In areas where the big German and Japanese companies had established footholds they quickly developed strong loyalty from their clients and it inevitably became very hard to wrest projects away from them afterwards.

  ‘Yes. By now it looks like virtually every new power station in the world has a PPD control system controlling it. Likewise all the old ones that have come up for refurbishment.’

  ‘I can see how it must be hurting you,’ Foster commented. ‘And all the others.’

  ‘Hurting!’ She gave a bitter laugh. ‘We’ve been forced to lay off people. Oh, we get the odd small job. We’ve had to branch into other fields, like the water industry, but the jobs there are small, Dan. All the big work goes to PPD. And, in any case, we’re beginning to see competition from PPD in the water industry too. In spite of the company name, there’s no way they’re just powerplant people now. We’ve really got our backs to the wall, Dan.’

  ‘I’m sorry to hear that, Carol.’

  ‘Thanks for the sympathy. We’ll survive, but it looks like we’ll have to downsize, move to smaller offices in the sticks.’

  He was really saddened by that. He had been with Universal Digital from the time they had started life in Windsor, and he’d been involved in buying their swanky high-tech office and factory complex in Abingdon. Now it was going to pass into other hands and the company – his company once – would become just another small operation somewhere in the backwoods.

  The conversation tailed off after that. They agreed to meet in the near future.

  After Foster had hung up he sat back and stared at his computer screen for several minutes, deep in thought.

  He considered what he had heard and was appalled. With PPD, and their system with a critical vulnerability, having such a stranglehold on the international electricity industry, the possibility that a hacker could gain access to any power station in the world was frightening.

  He realized that the problem was now far more widespread than he had suspected.

  *

  He heard her footfall on the companionway and he came out to meet her. She smiled at him and he smiled back, wondering how he should greet her. A handshake seemed too formal; would a peck on the cheek be too forward, too intimate? After all, he had met her just that once, at the Coopers’. She took the initiative and offered a cheek. He kissed it briefly and she turned to offer the other cheek. He was immediately and strongly aware of her perfume. It was intoxicating.

  He led her into the wheelhouse and she looked around in amazement. As she walked round, touching the glass-fronted book-case and the leather captain’s chair and armchair, he was suddenly reminded of Fiona’s first visit. He remembered her tilting her head to read the titles on the spines of his books.

  The memory hurt.

  He cleared his throat and said, ‘I’d offer a drink, but the place I’ve booked for dinner is a couple of miles away. We’ll get wine there. Is that OK?’

  She nodded. ‘I’d offer to drive,’ she said, ‘but I saw your car at Alex and Tina’s. I’d like to turn up in that. It’s a Morgan, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes,’ he replied. ‘A plus eight. My pride and joy.’

  ‘I bet it is. And I bet it attracts attention.’

  ‘You’re calling me a poseur?’

  ‘No. I didn’t mean that.’

  He showed her round the boat and she was suitably impressed. Then they went to where his car was parked beside the towpath. She gave a small smile of admiration: the little open-topped sports car was dark green with stone-coloured leather interior.

  ‘It’s gorgeous!’ she exclaimed, as she lightly ran her fingertips along the shining bonnet.

  ‘You should know that Morgans are known in the business as Moggies.’

  ‘Hello, Moggie!’ she said softly as he opened the low door for her to get in.

  The wind whipped her hair as they drove along the road towards Hampton Court. He could sense her excitement as the fruity roar of the exhaust echoed off the brick walls of the parks on either side of the road.

  ‘This was what driving should be like,’ she shouted above the noise at one point.

  When they arrived in Esher he swung the car round and parked it in a service road close to a small bistro. They went in and were given a table overlooking the pretty high street.

  Foster studied his companion as she read the menu. She was certainly very beautiful. Her cheekbones were high and well defined, her lips full and inviting. She glanced up and for a long moment they looked into each other’s eyes. Then she returned to the menu, breaking the spell.

  ‘I’ll have the cannelloni,’ she said as she passed the menu to him.

  He ordered and, with her approval, selected a carafe of the house red.

  ‘Tell me,’ she said, ‘how is it that you live on a houseboat?’

  ‘I like it.’

  Her eyes mocked him. ‘Mmmm. Somehow I feel there’s more to it than that.’

  He looked out of the window and thought carefully before returning his gaze to her. ‘I bought it when I was broke,’ he said. Then he added, ‘I’m sure Tina told you that I was married at one time….’

  ‘Not the one that died in the blackout?’ she interrupted.

  ‘No. We never married. It was before her. We broke up.’

  ‘Divorced?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And she cleaned you out?’

  ‘No. Not her. The lawyers did. I was the injured party, but I was prepared to go halves with her; split everything down the middle.’

  ‘And…?’

  ‘Well, she had some sharp law firm working for her and when I saw what was happening I found myself one as well. Between the two of them, those bastards skinned the pair of us.’

  The wine arrived. She took a sip and gave an approving nod. ‘You said you were the injured party.’

  ‘I did.’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘I caught her in bed with somebody.’

  ‘Oh.’

  She took a deep breath and repeated. ‘Oh. So at the end of the divorce you ended up on the boat.’

  ‘Yes. I had always fancied the idea anyway, but in the end it was all I could afford. Not that it was a cheap option. Goddess cost me a fair packet.’

  ‘She’s lovely.’

  He smiled at her. ‘Yes, I think so too.’

  Their meals arrived and as she started on hers she said, ‘And the one who died?’

  He paused. It was still painful to talk about it, but perhaps it would help. ‘Fiona,’ he said finally. ‘She worked for a firm of London lawyers. She’s the one who got me involved with the thing in China.’

  ‘Tina told me a bit about it. Sounds very complicated.’

  ‘It was. But it made my name. Got me out of debt and left enough to get some urgent work done on the boat. And to buy the Morgan.’

  ‘Well done!’

  ‘But that’s enough about me. What’s your story?’ He wanted to get away from the subject of discussing Fiona now.

  ‘Nothing as exotic as yours,’ she said. ‘But I was married too, once.’

  ‘Once?’

  ‘Yes. He was a bastard. But I never really knew. Then a so-called friend of ours got dru
nk one night and told me about a string of affairs he’d been having. I think she’d had a fling with him and when he dumped her she decided to tell me about him. When I tackled him about it he just laughed. Said everybody did it.’

  ‘The proverbial open marriage!’

  ‘Open from his side,’ she said, a trace of bitterness in her tone. ‘But if he saw me so much as talking to another man at a party he’d fly off the handle. Then he’d be silent and moody for days.’

  ‘So you ended it?’

  ‘Yes, it was messy. I was still at work, so I could escape. And after it was over I threw myself into work and made it so important that it dominated my life and filled my thoughts.’

  ‘And you did well,’ he said. ‘I think Tina told me you are your firm’s chief executive.’

  ‘Yes. That’s right. I suppose that focusing all my attention on the job was what did it. I got to the top in two years.’

  He looked at her and gave an admiring smile before saying, ‘But there’s more to life than work.’

  She smiled. ‘Yes. And I have a reasonable social life.’

  ‘Is there anybody … I mean, is there a man in your life?’

  She frowned and looked down before replying, ‘Not really. I go out on the odd date. Friends try to “fix me up” from time to time.’

  He took a sip of his wine. They had finished eating and the waitress came to take their orders for desert. They both said they’d just have coffee.

  After the meal they drove back to Lake Goddess. As she got out of the car she swayed and clutched at the door for support.

  ‘Gosh!’ she giggled. ‘I must’ve had more wine than I thought.’

  He took her arm and steered her to the companionway. She leant against him and it felt good to hold her firmly, if only to steady her.

  ‘I think you’ve had a tad too much to drink,’ he said. ‘You can’t drive like that. I can get you a taxi if you like.’

  She looked at him seriously and he returned the eye-contact as he went on, ‘Alternatively, you can stay here.’ He smiled, raised both hands, palms towards her and added, ‘No funny business. You can go in the guest cabin; it’s quite comfortable.’

  She continued to hold his gaze for a while, then she smiled. ‘All right. I’ll stay.’

  He had just started to drop off when he felt the boat sway slightly. He heard the soft click of her door opening and was instantly wide awake as she entered the master cabin and slipped under his duvet. He reached out in the darkness and pulled her to him. She was naked.

  ‘Hello,’ he whispered. ‘This is a surprise. A nice one though, I must say.’

  ‘No PJs!’ She giggled quietly. ‘I love your boat, but the bed was cold.’ She paused and he could sense her looking thoughtfully at him in the darkness as she asked, ‘Is it a bed, or is it called a bunk?’

  He smiled, and stroked the back of her neck. ‘Either will do,’ he answered.

  He could feel the softness of her full breasts against his chest, the nipples hard and erect against his skin. ‘My!’ he said as his hand went down to them. ‘You are cold.’ She wriggled against him, working further into his embrace.

  ‘I’ll have you know,’ she said, ‘that I’m not in the habit of doing this.’

  ‘Glad you did, though.’ It had been a long time. There was an aching need deep within him that yearned to be satisfied. He could feel the growing hardness between them. She felt it too, and pushed her crotch firmly against him.

  He kissed her lightly. At first her response was gentle, then the kiss was returned with passion. She opened her full lips and his tongue slipped between them and explored hers. He could feel her rising excitement; her breathing was becoming increasingly deep and rapid. He moved his attention to her cheek and then her neck, kissing her soft skin, moving slowly down from her neck, over her collarbone, down to the softness of her breast. When his lips reached her nipple he felt her shudder in ecstasy.

  Then she twisted until she was under him, reached round and grasped his buttocks to pull him hard against her.

  He took a deep breath. This was the first time since….

  And then the thought was driven from his mind as the passion enveloped them.

  SIX

  Jack and Jill

  She was still asleep when he returned to the boat after his run. He went into the cabin and looked at her, lying peacefully with only her head and one bare shoulder exposed. He bent and kissed the shoulder and she stirred briefly before opening her eyes and looking at him sleepily.

  ‘Good morning,’ he said.

  ‘Oh gosh!’ She sat up abruptly and pulled the duvet up under her chin so that only her head and shoulders were exposed. It was a surprisingly coy gesture given the intimacy they had shared during the night.

  ‘What?’ he asked, the trace of a faint smile on his lips.

  ‘What’ve I done?’

  ‘You mean, apart from making an old man very happy?’

  She smiled and sniffed. ‘Some old man!’

  He sat down on the edge of the bed and held her chin between thumb and forefinger while looking into her eyes. He spoke very softly and gently. ‘You don’t know what you’ve done.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘You’ve broken the spell.’

  ‘Spell?’

  He sighed and looked out of the porthole. ‘After Fiona died I shut myself away for a bit. Didn’t go out socially. Threw myself into work. Trying to obliterate the memory – or memories.’

  ‘But it didn’t work?’

  ‘No. As hard as I tried, I couldn’t shake off the ghosts.’ He snorted bitterly. ‘You know, the night we met at the Crabtrees’ was the first time

  I’d gone out socially since … since the accident.’

  ‘And?’

  He looked at her. ‘I blew it. I lost my cool with you.’

  Her response was quiet. ‘My fault.’

  ‘No. Not at all. But it made me think that that was the way it was going to be. Forever. It was a scary thought: that I was doomed to become a crusty old recluse, living on memories. But all the time, I really felt like I was under some sort of spell. A spell that would poison any attempt I made to form new relationships.’

  She looked steadily into his eyes until he spoke again, very softly, ‘And that’s the spell you’ve broken.’

  She moved her gaze down to his lips, then leant forward invitingly. He kissed her.

  ‘OK,’ he said, abruptly breaking off the extended contact. ‘Time to get the day rolling. I’ve just come back from a run.’

  ‘A run!’ she exclaimed and looked out at the remnants of the early mist still swathing the river. ‘Already? At this time of day?’

  ‘An old habit. I do 10K every morning, whenever I can. Keeps me trim.’

  ‘You can say that again!’ she exclaimed, eyeing his tightly muscled torso.

  ‘Anyway. I need a shower. But, do you want to go first? I can be getting breakfast ready while you shower, if you like.’

  ‘Sod the breakfast,’ she said, letting the duvet fall. He looked at her full breasts and grinned. ‘And sod showering in sequence,’ she added. ‘That’s the first of many things we’re going to be doing together from now on.’ She waited to gather her thoughts before looking at him seriously and continuing, ‘That is … if that’s what you want.’

  He smiled and replied, ‘What do you think? Of course it’s what I want.’

  They sat opposite each other for breakfast. He squeezed orange juice for them both and she selected a small pack of cereal from his store-cupboard. To her horror, he tucked into a huge plate of bacon and eggs. This time he added fried bread, tomatoes and mushrooms.

  ‘How do you do it?’ she laughed, as she watched him eat.

  ‘Easy!’ He gave her a devilish grin and winked. ‘But I do have to put my hands up and admit that I usually stop at bacon and egg. Today’s trimmings are to make up for the energy I’ve burned lately.’

  She smiled. ‘Burning energy! You can
say that again.’

  He looked at her thoughtfully over the plates. ‘Look,’ he said ‘I don’t want you to think….’

  ‘Think what?’

  ‘That I’m some sort of a Casanova. A Don Juan. A womanizer.’

  ‘Oh, Dan Foster.’ She smiled. Her voice was husky. ‘But I think you are.’

  ‘No,’ he protested. ‘No I’m not. Seriously. OK, I enjoy the company of women, and I—’

  ‘And you like making love to them.’

  ‘Some of them, yes.’ Then he thought about what he’d just said and laughed. ‘No, I don’t mean that I don’t enjoy making love to others. I just meant … if there’s someone I really like; if I get on well with her, and if she’s receptive then, yes, I’ll make a play. But then, what red-blooded man wouldn’t?’

  She spoke very quietly. ‘It’s all right, Dan.’ She looked at him for a moment and put her hand on his arm. ‘Really, it’s OK.’ Then she looked away and asked, ‘Your Fiona … Tina said she was much younger than you.’

  ‘Tina would,’ he growled. ‘She made it very clear that she didn’t approve.’

  ‘How old was Fiona?’

  He closed his eyes before replying, ‘Thirty-one. She would’ve been thirty-two next month.’

  When he looked at her again he saw that she was staring pensively out of the window. ‘Very young,’ she observed quietly, shaking her head slowly as if in disbelief. ‘How horrible. She was far too young to die.’ Then she looked at him and added, ‘Compared with that, I’m getting on, Dan. I’ll be forty-two in a couple of months.’

  He smiled. ‘Getting on? You’re still a chicken.’

  She looked at her gold watch, with its slim, pretty strap. ‘Look, I’m meant to be at work today. Mind if I make a call?’

  He shook his head and she used her mobile to ring her office and tell them she’d be late.

  ‘I must go,’ she said after she finished the call.