Sue, alone again, stared at the phone. Following the excitement of the previous week she was feeling her isolation more keenly. She had spent part of the morning sketching out another family tree diagram with her newly acquired information added. She couldn’t wait to make another trip home to glean further details. She was keen to chat about her early results with someone – anyone. She felt so energised, almost bursting with excitement, although she realised that she was being childish. Oh! To hell with it.
“Hello, Peter? Is that you?”
He confirmed his identity and his pleasure at hearing from her. Sue related her family history finds with hardly a pause for breath. Peter congratulated her on what he thought was great progress. He suggested that her next step would be to obtain copies of each grandparent’s birth certificate and to do that would probably require a visit to London.
*
“Mum! Guess who has come to live near us,” cried Katy excitedly as she charged into the house making Sue jump. Jo followed at the more dignified pace befitting her developing maturity. Sue, startled from her reverie, asked what all the fuss was about. Katy explained that the house along the lane that had been empty for a while had been bought by the Potters. Her mother’s puzzled look prompted Katy to explain that it was Rosy Potter’s family. “My best friend from school. They moved in over half-term.” It will be nice for Katy to have someone to play with locally, Sue thought. Katy happily agreed and said that she had invited Rosy over after tea. Maybe her brother Sam may come as well. He was in Jo’s class.
“He better not,” said Jo, “he’s a real swot.”
“Well we all know you’d rather it was the luscious hunk Simon Heath who’d moved here don’t we?”
The interested observer would be forgiven for concluding that there was some truth in Katy’s remark from her sister’s, less than dignified, reaction. A lightning lunge, a dodge, a flurry and weave followed by a race upstairs, finally rounded off by a slamming of doors.
*
Dave had escaped the confines of his office. He was on the Fosse Way again but this time travelling northwards on his way to visit Joe Griffiths in Nuneaton. Joe represented his company, who were the manufactures of the steam turbines at West Winford. Dave had been eagerly awaiting this meeting. It was the next logical step along his test-programme flow chart.
He put his foot down. Dave liked the Fosse Way. The good old Romans knew how to build roads, they didn’t give a bugger about planning permission or public enquiries – straight as a die. The only slight irritations were the increasing number of main roads to cross as he got further north. This however, did nothing to spoil his buoyant mood. He reflected that this was almost a permanent state these days and little wonder. Everything was going so well. He loved his job, the personal freedom he enjoyed to get on with it without the continual necessity of seeking approval. This was so different to Fisher’s Tubes, where his time and his work method had been strictly controlled. There was also the increased status. He mixed freely with his managers and had personal dealings with senior people at the various locations. Added to this was the interaction with his highly respected and renowned co-workers on the Corrosion Sub-Committee. On the home front, Jo and Katy had settled much better than he had anticipated. It had been an added bonus that the Potters had moved into the village. Sue, though a little down to start with, now seemed in a better frame of mind since meeting Pam and taking up her family history quest. As for the location, he had known from the outset that for him it was a dream come true; living in a rural setting had been a long held ambition.
Joe met Dave and took him on a tour of the laboratories. He was shown the partly constructed steam test rig, which was progressing well, before returning to Joe’s office to discuss the programme, in particular the type of specimen to be used. Joe felt that the evidence was mounting in favour of the failure of the Winford disc having been caused by stress corrosion, in fact he said that in his view there was no doubt. Accordingly, as his rig capacity was limited, he was in favour of using test specimens in a stressed condition. Dave agreed and had planned to do the same in his on-site steam rig. If the specimens for their separate tests were taken from the same disc material and were of similar design, they should obtain a direct comparison from both test rigs. After lunch, they settled down to consider specimen design.
It was Joe’s view that a lot, maybe all, of the evidence so far obtained was leading to the, he thought inevitable, conclusion that sodium hydroxide contamination was necessary to cause cracking in the medium strength low alloy steel from which the LP discs were made. It was possible that some sodium hydroxide, which was known to be present in the boiler water, had been inadvertently carried over with the steam into the turbine. This contamination may only have been present for a short time, but long enough for a small pit or crack to develop in the disc. Joe’s view was that such a defect, once formed, might later deepen during operation in normal ‘uncontaminated’ steam and penetrate into the disc at the keyway, where the stress was highest. It could become deep enough to cause failure under the operating stress of the steam turbine – increased during overspeed testing.
Dave listened carefully as Joe developed his point, nodding occasionally at the faultless logic. What Joe had in mind, given what he’d said, was the use of a specimen design that incorporated a preformed defect. In summary, he recommended using specimens containing a defect, in the form of a sharp crack, which would represent the sodium hydroxide damage that might have occurred in the actual discs. These specimens would be fitted with a bolt in such a way that a stress could be applied to the crack, the amount of stress could vary in the various specimens. Each specimen would be x-rayed before starting the test to obtain a picture of the starting crack. The specimens would be put into the test rig, through which high purity steam would be passed. Each specimen would be removed and x-rayed again to check for any increase in crack depth. Afterwards they would be returned for further exposure.
Finally, Joe had a pleasant surprise for Dave, as he had sufficient specimens, machined from the failed disc, for Dave’s on-site tests as well as his own. Dave was delighted, even more so to find that they were already loaded up to the required stress intensities and each had been x-rayed. All Dave had to do now was to get his own test rig installed at Winford. He hoped that it could be ready to go by early March.
*
Dave left Nuneaton and travelled the short distance into Birmingham. He had arranged to stay with his parents overnight in order to call in on his old workmates the following day.
He submitted to the customary inquisition as they sat around the tea table. His parents lived quietly these days and were glad to learn of their son’s progress. Mrs Harrison was unapologetic in her quest for information, as she was always keen to have something with which to impress her neighbours. Mr Harrison, though more diffident, was also proud of his son and enjoyed learning of his work. Later, as his parents settled down to watch television, Dave phoned Sue.
“Hello love, I’m glad you called,” greeted Sue, “how did your meeting go?”
“Fine, thanks. How’s everything back at base camp?”
“All quiet now and I’m relaxing after a couple of boisterous hours with the Potter kids here. Betty has just collected them. She’d been invited out for the day so I agreed to look after Sam and Rosy.”
“That’s good, but you will have to be careful that you don’t become a regular child minder,” cautioned Dave.
“Yes I will, but it would suit me if, between us, we could set up an occasional sharing system as it would mean that I could get out now and again with Pam and so forth. Incidentally, on that subject, I would like to go up to Somerset House to do more family research and there’s a chance for me to get up there in the next couple of weeks if it’s OK with you.”
“Sounds a good idea. Be a nice change.”
Sue seized the opportunity. “I’d hoped you wouldn’t mind as the chap who lent me a copy of his family history book – you remember?”
“Yes, Peter somebody?”
“Peter Fenner, that’s right. Well he’s offered me a seat in his car when he goes up to London for the day. Apparently he takes several of his family history circle regularly and they each go off and do their own thing. Although he has two regulars, the third seat is often free. It would be handy for me and economical too.”
“Sounds great,” enthused her husband.
“That’s where an arrangement with Betty Potter would be good, as she’d look after Jo and Katy and, together with Sam and Rosy, get their homework hour organised.”
“That would be ideal.”
“Thanks love. Now I’ve got some good news for you – well for both of us really, and no, before you ask, I’m not pregnant. Gritty popped in to let you know that your request for a contract-hire car has been approved. It seems that the cost is mainly borne by the Authority, so hopefully, we should be able to afford to keep our Morris as well.” Dave agreed that it was good news. He rejoined his parents feeling pleased with himself. It was likely that Sue would be much happier now, having the extra freedom the car would give. Hopefully he could put all his efforts into achieving his own ambitions without feeling too guilty. The future did indeed look bright.
*
How dingy it all seemed. Dave was welcomed by his former lab colleagues, as he had been by the familiar faces that he’d passed on his way through the main workshops. He had forgotten just how noisy and frantic the place was. He had some good mates here. The lab was busy as ever and most of his former colleagues nodded a welcome or exchanged a quick handshake, before returning to their work. Dave didn’t resent this. He could remember the pressure they were under to turn around the work quickly.
A couple of his closest friends broke off what they were doing and led him into the quiet of the chemical balance room for a chat. They brought him up to date with the gossip concerning mutual friends and appeared keen to hear of his progress. The three of them had been together for many years. As new school leavers they had joined Fisher’s training scheme. They had embarked upon part-time day release courses at college and night school, desperately working through the various stages of the National and Higher National Certificate courses, followed by the professional institutions’ examinations, the dread of having to repeat a year ever present. But good times for all that. They had played in the company’s football and cricket teams and been especially active in the pursuit of girls and even now, as they relived some of the incidents, the hint of competition was still alive. After a cup of tea, Dave took his leave, promising to keep in touch.
Back in the car, Dave reflected upon those earlier times. His working life now was so different from that of the many people, bright people, working in numerous industrial labs around the Midlands. Even after obtaining their professional qualifications, the work for many was undemanding and repetitive. The chemists had maybe a hundred routine samples to analyse each day, whilst the metallurgists spent hours carrying out repetitive tensile strength or hardness tests on batches of components. All run like a production line really. Occasionally, an unusual job might turn up, perhaps a component failure to investigate but, for the most part it was a boring routine. Despite this he had been happy and contented and he admitted that, left to himself, he would probably have remained at Fisher’s all his working life – lack of ambition, imagination, or just plain inertia? He was pleased that, largely thanks to Sue, he had taken his opportunity. As a result he felt that now he had a chance to make his mark and was sure that very many of the lads at Fisher’s and elsewhere could do equally well given the chance. He was, after all, just one of them. The industrial landscape of Bolton and Watt gave way to pastoral Shakespeare country as Dave made his way home.