Sue laid her book aside. The words were blurring through her tears and not for the first time during the past month. She sensed that things were getting out of control. Certainly her life had improved with her interest in family history, her friendship with Pam and Peter, as well as the greater freedom that the car had brought. However, she viewed these as oases in the desert of her married life. They occupied a few hours amongst the weeks of isolation. Long days and even longer nights of loneliness. She had had nothing positive from her job search and she doubted that the response to her latest application would be any more successful.
Over the past few months the relationship between herself and Dave had gradually deteriorated. The reasons seemed clear enough, but the remedy more elusive. They were both doing their best to avoid open hostility, whilst channelling their energies into their respective passions. Although anxious to do everything necessary to keep their marriage stable, if only for the girls’ sake, neither was prepared to retreat into the traditional roles accepted by previous generations. They were living in the second half of the twentieth century and things were changing. Women were not prepared to settle for the duties of wife and mother to the exclusion of everything else. One of the consequences resulting from these changes in attitude, was the threat it posed to the traditional concept of family life, a home tending to become a collection of individuals having their own aspirations foremost in their minds, rather than the collective cause. But did it have to be that way? It seemed clear to her that the reluctance of couples to adjust to changed circumstances, was a major factor in the increasing incidence of marriage breakdown. Would the concept of marriage survive into the twenty first century?
Sue realised that in their own case the situation was aggravated by a combination of unfortunate timing. She was approaching forty and the girls were becoming increasingly independent, which was the point in her life in which she would have anticipated greater personal freedom. This had coincided with the move and the consequential exciting changes in Dave’s life. Quite understandably, he could see a real opportunity for his long held ambitions to be realised, but only if he applied himself. He had made it abundantly clear that this was certainly no time to be thinking of increasing family commitments. A nine-to-five mentality would get him nowhere. So back to square one? Surely there was some room for compromise? Something was nagging in the background. Something missing within the present situation – it was love!
She understood Dave’s increasing involvement with his work, driven by his ambition, but the intensity was becoming unreasonable. He barely showed any interest in family matters. He just seemed to calculate the minimum involvement necessary to maintain peace. Their sex life had gradually diminished and, now become non-existent. She couldn’t remember the last time it had been anything other than a routine chore. Surely she was still reasonably attractive? Whilst Dave patronised her, Peter showed a genuine interest and not just because he was committed to family history. He was interested in her as a person, an individual. Dave might argue that he was like that when they first met, but that was no reason for her to accept the present situation. She wanted a life for herself, but also a shared life, shared experiences. It dismayed her to imagine what things would be like after the girls had left and Dave was a success. What then for her? Just someone to accompany him? Would he accept it if the situation was reversed? Her feelings of frustration brought more tears. She had to do something, but she was reluctant to bring things to a head. In order to avoid that she decided to look for an opportunity to bring the spark back. The trip to Lynton, almost a year ago, had been so successful. If she could arrange something along similar lines, perhaps that would give them an opportunity for reflection.
*
As Dave reflected upon recent events, he became more philosophical. He had come to terms with the latest Winford developments. He still believed that, thanks to his involvement in the investigation, he was well on his way to bigger things. His professional life was moving to a new level. Membership of the Corrosion Sub-Committee had been a great experience. This had led to his invitation to participate in the BSI discussions and he was confident that this would prove to be a springboard to other opportunities.
Then there was Lena. No responsibility, no commitment, just pure selfish enjoyment. Lena, he felt sure, was just living for the moment. She was young, modern. There was plenty of time to settle down – so much more of life to experience first. Dave envied her generation. So different to when he’d left school. The importance of settling down in a job with a future was instilled in all of them. Marrying early had been part of it. He accepted that there were some benefits. Sue was a good wife and the girls were all that anyone could ask for, but it was all so restrictive somehow. He worked all the week, after which he had to accommodate Sue’s wishes and spend time with Jo and Katy. Even his time away from work had to be spent in a rather proscribed way, with little spontaneity. What would things be like after the girls had left home? He and Sue together most of the time – a rerun of their parents’ predictable, uneventful, lives. Just a few hours with Pauline had shown him there was so much more, at least whilst he was still active. It was clear that she lingered in his thoughts.
*
Circumstances were about to arise which, one might have thought, would have been conducive to promoting closer harmony between man and wife, but this did not turn out to be the case. It began when Dave made his next trip to Winford Power Station to attend to his test rig. He drove into the car park on a beautiful July morning. Climbing out of his car, he stretched himself comfortably. In spite of his lingering disappointment about the forthcoming closure of the investigation, he could not be too depressed on such a day. The sun was already providing a pleasant warmth as he looked across the bay. A wonderful day indeed. Were those lapwings amongst the grassy tussocks leading to the beach, he wondered? He thought that he would try to fit in a run across Winford Heath before lunch. He had to admit, even with the recent setbacks, his move from Fisher’s Tubes had been for the best. The run-down of the Winford investigation, he thought, may give him sufficient time, before the next staff appraisals, to get some worthwhile results from his Thornton Power Station experiments.
As he made his way into the turbine hall, he was conscious that this might be his last visit, at least in connection with this dying project. After opening the test vessel, he removed the specimens and wrapped each separately for the journey back to the lab. The test had been running for 3,000 hours, which was about one tenth of the time the failed LP disc had been operating, before the incident.
He had plenty of time for a run. This was a wonderful area to run across, mainly heathland with few restrictions to the public. After a shower and a sandwich, he drove back to the lab and delivered his specimens to the non-destructive testing engineers, for them to make their first inspection. He stressed the importance of avoiding contamination of the surfaces of the test pieces. They confirmed that this would be no problem with the pre-cracked specimens which they would x-ray, but they could not effectively check the plain specimens loaded in the test frame. The best that they could promise, as far as an in-situ test was concerned, was the careful use of dye-penetrant solution on a couple of the specimens on the outer edge of the group. Although this would contaminate the tested surfaces, they could protect the other specimens. Dave settled for this as he could discard these two specimens if he decided to return the others for further exposure at Winford.
*
Sue received a surprising phone call. She had just made a start on her new book, Mrs Dalloway. The man’s voice clearly betrayed a Midlands background. Having confirmed that it was Sue Harrison, formerly Turner, with whom he was speaking, he explained that he was her cousin Eric, Auntie Clara’s son. He went on to say that his mother had passed on to him some family papers before her death and, having heard from their Uncle Stan, about her research into their family’s history, he was interested in learning how she was progressing. He lived in Fordingbridge, which wasn’t far and he wondered if they could meet. He realised that it was short notice but he would be passing through Chippenham the following day, on his way to visit an old RAF pal, and wondered if she might be free for an hour, late morning. Although a little wary, Sue welcomed any opportunity of talking to anyone who had an interest in, better still might be in a position to make a contribution to, her research. She agreed and suggested the local pub.
The Marden Arms was quiet when Sue arrived, having enjoyed the walk through the Highwood Estate. She would have no trouble spotting Eric. She had a recollection of seeing him at a family wedding when she was about ten and he would have been in his early twenties. When Eric arrived Sue waved rather unnecessarily, considering there was only Sam and his local wag in the bar. He joined her and placed a carrier bag on the floor by the table, before collecting drinks.
After a trip down memory lane, Eric steered Sue into her well-practised spiel. Eric expressed surprise with the progress she had made. He was able to add some colour to her recent findings with a few anecdotes. She was amused, as he related a variety of incidents relating to the Turner side of the family. Being about ten years older, he could recall some events unknown to Sue. On several occasions she had cause to laugh out loud as Eric dug deeper into his store of gossip. She found him a joy.
“Anyway, enough of these preliminaries.” Eric reached down into his carrier bag and brought out a tattered bible. “Thought you might like this. As I’m on my own now, it’s likely to be of more use to you than to me.” Sue was delighted though embarrassed and suggested that she would be happy just to borrow it. Eric insisted. He was content for it to have a good home. He handed it to Sue, who carefully opened it.
“Oh my goodness! How absolutely wonderful,” she cried, when she saw that inside the front cover was a list of hand written notes with names and dates of various family occasions. At the top there was the name ‘Caroline Potten, Brighton 1863’ in copperplate. This was the great grandmother whom she was attempting to identify from the two candidates. At Eric’s prompting, Sue found more entries on the back sheets.
“I can’t believe it,” laughed Sue, her enthusiasm drawing attention from Sam behind the bar. Eric explained that his mother, Sue’s Auntie Clara, had been keen to keep family business private. He would have contacted her earlier had he realised its significance. He allowed Sue to buy him another half of bitter before leaving.
*
“We’ve been trying to contact you,” said the voice on the phone. “George here, Non Destructive Testing. We’ve been having a look at your specimens and you may be surprised to know that we’ve detected significant cracking. Thought you’d want to know straight away.”
Dave said that he’d be over shortly. He didn’t think that it was surprising that crack growth had occurred in the pre-cracked specimens. After all, he had noted the suggestion of crack growth during his earlier inspection at Winford. The tests had been running for some weeks since then and the use of x-ray techniques was much more sensitive. This result would not be a surprise to the other sub-committee members, as Joe had already reported crack growth in his laboratory steam rig. It would, however, be interesting to compare the rates of growth between the two tests.
George, after lighting his pipe, took Dave through the results. All the pre-cracked specimens showed an increase in crack length, in other words the pre-existing crack had penetrated more deeply during exposure to the Winford turbine steam. “Well, that’s great. Thanks George. Everyone should now be convinced that a defect in a disc could extend in normal service in an LP turbine without any contamination present and so, all similar turbines are at a slight risk. It may be just good luck or good pre-assembly inspection, that has prevented other failures. I suppose it might be argued that only defects that are sharp and ‘crack like’ in shape could cause this growth and the presence of these is unlikely. I’ll go and knock out a brief report for the sub-committee.”
“Aren’t you interested in the others, that are loaded into that test frame?” asked George, indicating the assembly on the opposite bench with the stem of his pipe. Dave confirmed that he was, if only for the record. He was wondering whether it might be worth putting those back in the test vessel for further exposure. He might as well use the Winford rig until the end of the year when the job finally closed. “I thought that you’d like to know that they’re already cracked, at least the two that we checked are,” said George. Dave was shocked, he couldn’t believe it. Surely there was some mistake? Of course, the confined space within the test frame would make it difficult to examine the specimens in any detail, so it was probably a misinterpretation. George assured him that, although it had been tricky, they had been able to do the job. There was no doubt that the samples checked were cracked and well cracked at that.
Dave was shaking as he carried the test frame back to his own lab. Gritty caught Dave’s mood as soon as he heard the news. He took the frame to the do-it-yourself workshop and cautiously slackened off the load from the two specimens tested and carefully removed them. Dave examined the length of both of the specimens under a high-powered bench microscope. Some discolouration in the black surface film was evident. What did Gritty think? He was not sure.
“Bugger it, let’s sacrifice one of them,” declared Dave decisively.
They assembled one of the specimens into a tensile testing machine, which was normally used for stretching specimens to failure to assess tensile strength and other mechanical properties. They gently applied an increasing load, which gradually stretched the Winford test piece. As they began and before any appreciable load had been applied, they were amazed to see small cracks opening up along the surface. Normal steel test pieces, loaded in this way, would gradually distort and not show surface cracking until very near their failure load.
“Bloody hell, it’s cracked to buggery, I can’t believe it.” Gritty and Dave almost danced around the lab. They decided to continue loading this specimen to failure, upon which it was clear to see, on the otherwise bright fracture surfaces, a crescent shaped area of discolouration. This was the area of the stress corrosion crack and was almost identical to the appearance of the fracture surface on the failed Winford disc. The procedure was repeated on the second specimen with a similar result. Following this, Dave asked Gritty to carefully remove one of the other specimens, which had not been exposed to the NDT dye-penetrant fluid. He was delighted to find this also cracked. The other specimens were left undisturbed so that they could be used for demonstration purposes for anyone doubting their claims.
Dave was shaking as he took in the serious implications of this discovery. He was delighted, as he believed that he had produced the most unexpected result in the field of stress corrosion for years. Stress corrosion cracking in high purity steam! No one would believe it, but he had the proof. He had his specimens and he had Bunsen’s steam analysis. The steam quality had remained high throughout. He didn’t know what to do. He called Mike Pearson and Bunsen, both of whom had been so helpful to him. Ian had already arrived having been attracted by the noise of the two of them.
A couple of hours later Dave was still in a daze of pleasure. He was brought back to earth quite suddenly, as he realised that his personal joy at the findings would not be shared by the Authority or other utilities operating turbines of the Winford type. These results would send shock waves through many organisations. All turbines of this type were at risk of sudden catastrophic failure. Many had been in operation for much longer than Number 2 turbine at Winford. It was only the fact that the Winford discs had been unusually brittle that caused failure with such small cracks present. Other LP turbine discs still in service would, almost certainly, contain cracks and possibly some deep ones. There had already been one fatality resulting from the Winford failure. Next time, things could be much worse. Though there were usually few people around turbines under normal operation, more were present when measurements were being taken, or during turbine run ups, shut downs and overspeed testing.
Time was getting on and Dave was anxious to make a start on writing his report. He had the odd irrational fear that if he didn’t claim the credit for this unexpected discovery, someone else would beat him to it – probably tomorrow. There was no point phoning Sue to tell her the news and say that he might be late home, as he knew that, as it was Friday, she would be at her blessed Peter’s group indexing.
He settled to his work. Ian helped initially by taking a selection of photographs of the specimens and their cracks. They had photographs of the specimens before testing and the Station Chemist at Winford had taken a nice shot of the test rig in operation. Gritty cut a couple of sections through one of the specimens and prepared them for examination under an optical microscope. These showed other cracks, typical of stress corrosion, which he photographed. Soon Dave had all the illustrations that he needed and his colleagues went off on their weekend.
He stayed on and wrote his draft report, outlining the object of the experiment, and the on-site equipment details, together with the specimen design and purpose. He added the steam analysis record, quoting maximum and minimum values for impurities, which were miniscule. Then, finally, the results and a brief discussion, with such great pleasure, followed by his conclusions and recommendations. It was just past midnight. He spent the weekend putting the final polish to his report, which he would get typed first thing on Monday.