Sue awoke with a start and found herself alone. Donning her dressing gown, she went down to the sitting room where, to her relief, she found Dave. He was sitting staring out through the French windows, clearly distressed. He had been weeping. She was amazed to think that in just a few months her husband could have changed so much. At the beginning of the year he had been so different. He was a conscientious worker, always had been, but he had a great personality and enjoyed family life with her and the girls. They weren’t a burden in those days. The change was alarming. He had joined the SSA and had worked hard, which was quite natural when beginning a new job. Then, a more noticeable change in his behaviour, as he took on a leading role in the Winford investigation. He had sensed that this was his big chance. Such opportunities didn’t come along often, especially for someone with his background. He had been determined to grasp it. From that moment he had been completely driven by ambition. Sue felt herself to be responsible, although she had had no way of knowing how things would turn out. She determined to redouble her efforts to get their relationship back to how they were. The timing was unfortunate, but she would have to turn down her job offer. She consoled herself in the belief that there would be others. Her first priority was to support her husband. To begin with she needed to establish the situation from his point of view, which required calm discussion.
She cuddled up beside him and began by asking whether he had come to any conclusion yet, adding that he could count upon her support whatever his decision. She just wanted him to be sure in his own mind before doing anything dramatic. The easiest course would be to accept the situation and get on with his research project at Thornton Power Station. This would also be the best from the family’s point of view, but she understood that for him, there was a matter of principle to be considered. She shared his sense of injustice and it made her angry. Dave was calmer and he explained that, in some ways, he was pleased that the decision to suppress his results had come from the highest level within the Authority and that it wasn’t Sweety who had made it. It felt less of a betrayal somehow.
He admitted, a major reason for his outrage was that he was being prevented from claiming credit for his work, but he hoped that his concern about the risk of someone else actually losing their life unnecessarily, was overriding. The thought of someone’s son, husband or father being killed would be on his conscience and he just couldn’t imagine how he’d feel, should the worst happen. Worldwide, he guessed that there were several hundred turbines of similar design to those at Winford. The primary reason for the violent failure at Winford, was that the disc steel was unusually brittle and thus it was less likely that others would fail, until deeper cracks were formed. However, as most of the other turbines had been in service for longer than those at Winford, there was still a distinct risk.
He was appalled at the SSA management, whose motives were blatantly political. They realised that if his results became public they would have no option but to close down at least Winford and Thornton power stations immediately, and what red faces there would be within the senior ranks of an organisation set up to ensure integrity of supplies.
As the sun rose and cast its early light into the sitting room, via the French windows, Dave came to a decision, of sorts. He would take a step back and consider the whole question as unemotionally as possible. He decided to take off for the day with a packed lunch. Seeing Sue’s reaction, he assured her that he wasn’t planning anything dramatic, but felt that a day’s trek along the Ridgeway, which he had intended to do sometime, would be a good way of thinking the whole thing through.
There were several cars already parked at Overton Hill beside the Ridgeway path early that morning, but no sign of their occupants. The usual stiff breeze was blowing in from his left, the rough grass moving in waves up the hillside, as he set off northwards. The flinty track became more rutted as he climbed the first slope.
Gradually, he became less conscious of his surroundings, as he began mentally to rewind the past months of the Winford investigation, through his mind. He recounted the important developments. Despite his success with the on-site exposure specimens and the laboratory stress corrosion tests, his investigation was not complete and it could be argued that it was the most important part that remained to be discovered. Just how could cracks initiate in what, to all intents and purposes, was pure water? It was the answer to this question that was required before he could write his definitive paper and so, for the present, that was not an issue. He had to be patient. Realistically, it could be the best part of a year before he could expect to see his detailed hypothesis in print.
His immediate dilemma really came down to the question of the technical note, which did not require such a rigorous treatment. This note would serve two distinct purposes. It was an opportunity to announce his amazing results quickly but, more importantly, it would alert all power plant operators (and this particular publication was directed towards such people) to the serious risk in operating turbines of the Winford type.
He blushed at the thought that he, an ordinary Birmingham lad, would have his name linked with this important advance in corrosion science. However, he had no illusions that his note alone would be sufficient to cause all turbine operators around the world to suddenly remove vulnerable turbines from service, as that would be impractical. His, more realistic, hope was that his recommendation, to cancel all routine overspeed tests, would be accepted, which could prove to be the difference between life and death. This information could be made available quickly and with luck, might be in time for the forthcoming issue of International Power Digest, though it would be touch and go. Having written it, he wondered if he would have the nerve to submit it for publication, in defiance of the wishes of his superiors and, more seriously, accepting the risk of prosecution. He found this to be a persistent, nagging worry that would not go away and the more he considered it, the more convinced he became that he had no option. It was a terrifying prospect. The possibility of major disruption to family life. Another move? This was so disheartening, after they had all finally settled so well, but how could this be compared with someone losing their life? A bleak prospect indeed.
What? He was surprised to have reached the Marlborough to Swindon road at Southend already. He checked his watch. He had been walking for two hours. He hadn’t noticed his surroundings; had walked unconsciously through the hill-fort at Barbury Castle.
Although the future looked uncertain, he felt more at ease with himself having at least analysed the situation. There was little else that he could do. There may be further developments by the time he returned to work. He could only wait.
He set off on his return journey and at the hill-fort, he settled down on the grass ramparts to eat his lunch.
Having clarified his thoughts, he was able to take in the marvellous scenery which he’d missed on his way north. As he began the final descent, he noticed a ridge running away to the left forming a shallow valley across Fyfield Down. Here, sheep were grazing contently amongst the scattered stones on the lower slopes. On the horizon to his right, the monument which he had climbed up to the previous day was shining whitely in the sunshine.
So he would return to work and continue with the crack initiation studies and get his full paper developed, which he was determined to get published, as soon as this final element was completed, whatever the consequences.
One thing he did not resolve, did not even consider, was the deterioration in his family relationships. Even though severely chastened by recent setbacks, his focus had not been disturbed, his obsession with his work clearly undiminished. In contrast, this crisis had triggered more radical thoughts for his wife.
*
Sue, although having some nagging doubts, was relieved that her husband had not taken precipitous action on his return to work, but seemed to have settled into a comparatively normal working regime. He was, however, more introverted and engrossed in his own thoughts for much of the time. She realised that this was a critical time in their lives. Despite all her recent feelings for her own situation and her relationship with Peter, she knew that now, faced with this crisis, family interests came first. This might be viewed as a betrayal of all her own aspirations as a woman, but she had no doubt that this was a price she was willing to pay. Making this radical reappraisal of her priorities did not mean giving up her interests, but rather adjusting where necessary to minimise conflict within the family, at this difficult time for Dave. The first thing was, with great reluctance, to notify Henderson’s that she would not be accepting their job offer. She was consoled by the thought that it had served to restore her confidence and that she was not incapable of obtaining employment, which would be a help when the time was right.
*
Dave was working at home. The urgency of solving his crack initiation problem was driving him. He was scanning through his preliminary results.
“Those are nice. What are they?” asked Jo.
“These photographs do you mean?”
“Yes. Nice design.”
“They’re pictures of metal samples under an optical microscope. They’re steel specimens that have been immersed in various solutions for a short time, to check for early signs of corrosion.”
“What are all these bits?”
“The main part, this light coloured background is, more or less, iron. The dark grey, needle shaped structure is made up of carbon rich areas and the light grey particles are impurities of manganese sulphide. The whole structure is normal for this type of steel, which is making it difficult for me to solve an urgent problem.”
“What about that blob there?”
“I just told you, they’re manganese sulphide.”
“But that one’s different.”
Dave looked more closely.
“I don’t see any difference.”
“Well, it’s got a fine black border around it. None of the others have. Can’t you see? It’s time you got some glasses. Can I have a copy of that photograph? It’s really neat.”
“Yes, but let me keep this one for now, as I’ll need it to recheck the sample.”
That was his first job the following morning. He found the sample from which the photograph had been taken and re-examined it. It was difficult to be sure of the exact area Jo had seen but, after a lengthy search, he thought he recognised the features from the pattern of the grains surrounding it. He increased the magnification and he could now see the outlined particle Jo had mentioned. Comparing this with the other manganese sulphide areas, he could see a clear difference. Having decided that the electron microscope would provide more information, he went in search of John Bolton. It was a good decision. The three dimensional image took his breath away. Whilst virtually all of the manganese sulphide particles were in intimate contact with the surrounding matrix of iron, the one picked out by Jo was separated by a narrow, but deep, crevice. It appeared to be the result of localised corrosion, between the particle and the surrounding metal. So this ‘active’ particle was different from the rest and had produced a corrosion crevice which, in time, would result in the formation of a pit as the attack developed. He was elated. This certainly fitted the requirement as a crack initiator, for which he had been searching. This was a credible reason for the presence of cracking in his plain specimens, in high purity water and, more importantly, in the Winford LP turbine discs. It was likely that the ‘active’ particle had a slightly different composition from the majority of the other sulphides. He reviewed many of his earlier samples and found that many contained such ‘active’ particles. Some of these were elliptical in shape and so, as corrosion developed, the resultant pit was noticeably crack-like.
That evening Dave, still in a state of euphoria, told Jo that he had re-examined the specimen which she had pointed out.
“You really are a superstar, Jo. This is the final piece of the jigsaw for which I’ve been searching. You should really be doing science, you know.”
“Not likely. You must know that I get the same kick out of art as you do science. Even so, it’s nice to know that we arty-types can still sort out your science problems.”
“It is a shame that science and art folk do seem to keep aloof.”
“More’s the pity, I say. I mean that chap, Einstein, did OK I suppose, but how much more successful might he have been if he’d embraced art and got himself a decent hair-stylist.”
*
As things turned out, Sue was pleasantly surprised to find that she was able to work her other interests around the family, without much adjustment. Her indexing work had started again, following a summer break, plus Pam was back and so they resumed their regular excursions. Of course, she spent time poring over her Boughton notes, attempting to sort out the Pulham families, as well as considering how she could live up to her silent promise to her Caroline Potten and unravel her family history. So the time passed pleasantly. As the late autumn was staying so fine, she and Pam had made it a regular habit to walk for an hour or so around the Highwood Estate, or as Pam put it, “Hey old girl, fancy a stroll in my garden?” Keeping her eyes open in case the ‘Mellors’ look-a-like appeared, added more interest to these occasions.
*
“Fancy a trip?” Dave looked at his Section Head with interest. Just what he could do with, a change of scene.
He had intended to let Tony know that his latest crack initiation studies had finally provided the evidence for which he had been searching. It was clear that the most critical part of the disc cracking process was the initiation of a sharp pit. He had finally, thanks to Jo, found evidence that such defects could arise in high purity hot water. This had revealed that localised attack of the steel surface often began at certain ‘active’ sulphide particles, which were always present in commercial steels. Relatively deep pits could be produced, even in high purity water, as the local chemistry at the bottom of such pits was known to become acidic as corrosion progressed, the defects could deepen as this aggressive solution developed. Although the reason why not all particles were subject to this attack was unclear, he felt that would be best left for the Slough scientists to investigate.
Despite his earlier resolution, Dave had delayed submitting his technical note for a few days, convincing himself that awaiting the results of these latest experiments was a valid reason. Had this just been an excuse? He had almost certainly missed the September deadline as a result. The next opportunity for publication would be October. This thought brought the whole question back into doubt again. What would be the outcome if he did publish then? Would he be prosecuted? Could he find another job locally? The family were all so nicely settled – just so many reasons for not acting. He knew that this was just an excuse for his cowardice. He had been so close to submitting the note earlier in the week. He had had it typed and actually sealed in an envelope, but he had baulked at the final moment as his heart pounded outside the post office. He had walked away, ashamed. He found little consolation in the fact that no further failures had occurred, as far as he knew.
“Wouldn’t mind, where to?” Dave answered.
“Soviet Union.”
Dave was surprised. Tony went on to say that the British Electrical Consortium were putting together a delegation to visit Moscow on an exchange visit with the USSR Electrical Union. It was planned to be a wide ranging exchange covering most aspects of power generation and distribution. Dave’s name had been put forward by the SSA to the Consortium. In fact, it was concern for Dave’s mental state at present which had prompted Sweety to put his name forward. He and Tony felt that he needed a diversion just now, which in all likelihood would serve to defuse the present situation and result in a less extreme reaction to the Winford business. It was to be a ten day stay in Moscow.
*
Dave had been surprised a few days earlier to receive a phone call from Pauline as, to all intents and purposes, the sub-committee had become defunct since the summer. She wanted to meet up with him away from work. His first thought was that perhaps she had reconsidered his proposition of another social evening, but her manner suggested that this was not the case. It was something important that she wished to discuss. Dave thought that it might prove difficult as he had no reason to visit London at present. He would have to call her back.
Now, out of the blue, this opportunity had arisen in the form of his forthcoming USSR trip. He could certainly make a case for being in London on the evening before his Heathrow flight, when he could arrange to meet Pauline.
The days leading up to the planned trip were eventful for Dave. He decided to amend his note to International Power Digest, to include the latest crucial part of his hypothesis. He was on edge for the whole of Thursday and was not completely calm when the typed final version arrived on his desk on Friday morning. He felt like a character from a Le Carré novel as he slipped it into his briefcase ready to post. But would he? And if so, when?
He checked in at the hotel. He was still procrastinating about posting the letter, which was burning a hole in his pocket. Maybe at the airport. It would still make the October edition easily enough. He was in the bar before seven o’clock and predictably, Pauline was on time. He had forgotten in just a couple of months, how attractive she was. His mind moved on towards a shared meal, followed by the possibility of Lena revealing herself later. He ordered her a drink. It soon became clear that Pauline was not her usual self, she was plainly unsettled as she explained her reason for wanting to meet.
“I can’t stay long, but I’ve something I want you to see. It came as quite a shock to me and following the acrimonious discussions of our last meeting, I thought that you ought to read this.” As she spoke she pulled a large envelope from her briefcase. “Before you do I have to have your word that you will not reveal how you found out about this. I’ve taken quite a risk. I’ve done it partly because I felt that you were being badly treated, but also because I believe it is scandalous that such a thing should be allowed to happen.”
After receiving Dave’s assurance, Pauline passed over the envelope, which contained a letter which he read with a mixture of disbelief and anger. The letter, dated the 17th of August 1970, was classified as ‘SECRET’ and was from the Chief Executive of the Strategic Supplies Authority to the Head of Research at Slough, with a copy to the Head of Public Relations, and read as follows:
SUBJECT – Examination of a Low Pressure Turbine Rotor after 30 years, service at the Mid-Newport Electric Works of
the Welsh Petroleum Corporation.
I enclose a copy of a report prepared by our non-destructive testing people regarding the examination of the two low pressure rotors from the No1 turbine at the above mentioned location and the discovery of stress corrosion cracking in the keyways of several of the discs. It is not only the widespread nature of the cracking, but also the depth of penetration (over one inch in two of the discs) which is alarming. This development has been discussed at executive level and it has been agreed to withhold the circulation of this report for the present.
As the Electric Works have now been decommissioned, there are no implications for the Petroleum Corporation itself and, as No2 turbine is still to be examined, this provides an opportunity for delaying reporting until this has been done, which will be at least eighteen months from now. Mr Pritchard, Chairman of the Welsh Petroleum Corporation, informs me that none of the other operating units in their organisation have the shrink-fit keyway design.
We are, of course, in a much more difficult position at present, with the turbines at both West Winford and Thornton being vulnerable. As disc cracking at Newport cannot be associated with a known contamination incident, we have to assume that our explanation for the West Winford failure (sodium hydroxide contamination) is, at best, suspect. This being the case we have to regard all turbines at West Winford and Thornton Power Stations to be at serious risk and therefore we need to modify our refurbishment programme to include all machines. The Engineering Director informs me that in eighteen months this work will be sufficiently advanced that the reporting of the Newport examinations at that time would not cause too much embarrassment.
Dave was amazed at what he’d read. The first thing that struck him was that Pauline had appreciated the significance of this letter. Furthermore, she had taken this risk. He then considered the implications. If cracking was over an inch deep after thirty years’ operation at this power plant, the rate of cracking was about the same as that found at Winford. Clearly, as the letter acknowledged, the Slough hypothesis of a particular operational incident on Number 2 turbine (the contamination of the steam) could not be sustained.
“Well, Pauline, I’m so pleased that you thought of letting me see this, but how did you get hold of it? Won’t you get into trouble?”
“Yes, if anyone finds out. I came across it whilst I was standing in for the woman who handles the work for the secretariat of the main Technical Committees. No one knows I made this copy.”
“But is there anything that we can do about it, without implicating you?” asked Dave.
“I’m not sure. I was just so angry that I thought of alerting the national press directly. Surely if other failures occurred people could get killed, couldn’t they?”
“There is a real risk, but it may not happen and it’s this uncertainty that the SSA is banking on. They are in a real dilemma now that the new government is looking hard into the whole SSA concept. If they acted as they should, both Winford and Thornton power stations should be removed from service immediately and all operators of similar turbines would be advised of the danger, but that’s unthinkable for them, as they approach the winter and peak demand. The programme of turbine refurbishment and the introduction of improved non-destructive examination is in hand and this should eliminate the risk when it is complete, but that won’t be for at least two years. Their best hope of avoiding failures in the meantime, is the suspension of routine overspeed testing, as it is this that really does increase the risk of a repeat of Winford.”
“Yes, but that is only within the SSA,” countered Pauline. “By sticking to the Slough explanation they can’t alert other utilities, here or abroad, to the danger. Surely there are hundreds of turbines at risk worldwide?”
Dave was surprised by Pauline’s passion. She had finished her drink almost without noticing. He explained that he would be away for about ten days, which would give him plenty of time to think the whole thing through. He could give her a call at the beginning of October. Although she seemed to accept this, he could see that she was clearly agitated.
“Anyway, let’s get some food,” suggested Dave, but Pauline refused. She explained that she was going away on Sunday to Italy to visit her aunt. Dave was sorry. He would have welcomed her company.
He was unsettled by what he’d heard and he didn’t feel up to the Italian restaurant so, after a quick snack at the hotel, he had an early night. It was to be a disturbed night as he slept fitfully. The following morning he handed in his keys at the reception desk, together with a letter to be posted. He was only sorry now that he’d missed the September deadline.
During the flight, Dave’s anger subsided, but he had no misgivings about his reckless action and as he approached his destination his thoughts turned, with keen anticipation to the immediate prospects of this adventure. The British Airways jet touched down at Sheremetyevo on time. As the plane taxied along towards its designated stand, Dave noted the armed guards stationed on the tarmac around the terminal building, a collection of clones, just young lads really but their uniforms, severe haircuts and impassive expressions seemed so at odds with their years. Thank goodness we don’t have the need for anything like that at home, he thought. The idea of armed soldiers or police around the streets or at the airports of Britain was so foreign.
There was more evidence of the cultural divide at passport control. Dave’s passport and visa card were taken in through the booth window and glanced at by another youthful clone – a very long, embarrassing wait. Dave finally assumed he could proceed, though the wordless automaton refused to blink.
Exiting into the public area, he was amongst the waiting group of fur-clad men, women and children, together with the usual jostle of people holding up cards, hand written for the most part, with company’s names, family names, and so on, displayed to catch the attention of their unknown visitor. Then he saw ‘Mr Harrison’ displayed by a young man whom, Dave approached. He smiled and introduced himself as Ivan Razumov from the Electrical Institute of Moscow. A car was waiting and they were driven smoothly along wide, well-paved, roads into the city centre. Dr Razumov led Dave into the spacious reception area of the Rossia Hotel. It was a huge building. His host said that he would return later. Dave registered and was taken up to the fifth floor. He wandered along a corridor, looking at the room numbers. He was challenged by a middle-aged woman, sitting at a table at the corner of the corridor.
“Gdye vash klyooch?” she said, and Dave could see that she was leaning forward over her table, looking sideways at his left hand, in which he was holding his key. He offered it up with a questioning look. “Da, prava,” she said, indicating a door on his right hand side and as he moved towards it hesitantly, “Da, da.” This woman, he learned, was the appointed ‘dezhurnaya’ (woman on duty) who, though apparently doing nothing, acted as the lynch-pin for that particular floor. She looked after the keys of residents, answered the phone and also supervised a samovar for guests. In most westerners’ eyes however, the role as a spy was thought to be her main duty.
The hotel comprised four sections, built around the periphery of a large courtyard, and Dave was delighted to find that his room had an excellent view over Red Square. As he unpacked, he idly wondered where the microphones would be hidden, or was that just in spy novels?
At seven o’clock he met Ivan and they went up to a restaurant on the twenty first floor. The service was slow. Eventually an impressive menu arrived. Dave mentioned how comprehensive the menu was and Ivan smiled. “Pardon me,” he said, “I am not making fun but I should perhaps explain. You see the very long list of food and wine on offer here?” Dave nodded. Ivan continued, “You will now note how many items have their prices listed. Take the wine, for example.” Again Dave nodded. There were probably over twenty wines mentioned, though only two had prices included. “So,” explained Ivan with a smile, “only two wines are really on the menu. If they only listed the available items, the menu would be only one page long, not ten.”
Even with this limitation, Dave was hoping that Ivan would suggest something and order for them both, which he did when, eventually, their order was taken. Of the two wines, red or white, the latter had been selected by Ivan and Dave attempted to read the label ‘Tsinandali’ with only partial success. Ivan gave the accepted pronunciation and went on to say that it was a medium-dry wine, from the Georgian Republic. It was very good, as was the main meal. It was a pleasant evening and Dave learned a little of the arrangements for the week’s visit. His colleagues had arrived earlier and were being escorted by an Intourist guide. Dave was pleased to be in a one to one situation, as he enjoyed Ivan’s company and was interested in his information and anecdotes about life in the ‘sinister’ Soviet Union.
Monday morning arrived and Dave glanced out through his window. At eye level were the many domes of St. Basil’s Cathedral – so foreign. It was still dark. A more familiar scene down at ground level, as clusters of dark silhouettes shuffled along the pavements to their workplaces, heads bowed, a template for a modern day Lowry. A lukewarm shower and down to the breakfast room, where he met his British colleagues.
Ivan escorted them to the meeting place. This entailed a minibus ride passing alongside the imposing Kremlin wall on their right and down Leninski Prospeck. After about half a mile, they stopped and were greeted by an assorted bunch of men and women, no doubt including the statuary KGB ‘minders’, and hustled into the entrance hall of a tall office block. Dave and his colleagues were organised together to be taken up to the committee room. There were two ancient lifts, brass grill fronted, one of which was waiting at ground floor level. Dave and his party were squeezed into this together with the obligatory attendant – the USSR boasts full employment! The latter pushed the button but the lift refused to move. Repeating this with increasing violence did nothing to persuade it to budge. There followed a somewhat comical scene of confusion as a woman administrator, with an unnecessary theatrical display of arm waving and herding, corralled her charges into the second lift. Off they went, leaving the former liftman rattling his cage to little avail.
After the formal introductions, each member from the host delegation gave a brief resume of their background and their area of expertise and the visitors were asked to do likewise. Amongst Dave’s colleagues were a variety of specialists in areas such as high voltage systems, instrumentation equipment and reactor operation. Dave was the sole turbine materials representative. The plan outlined by the hosts was to spend the day together in a general exchange of information on electricity production matters and for the rest of the week, they would get down to detail within smaller groups. Visits had also been arranged to suit the various interests.
Dave and his colleagues quickly adapted to the routine and although they were a friendly group, Dave enjoyed being alone with Ivan in the evenings, as this experience was so different to his normal life. He was pleased to learn that Ivan had been appointed to be his guide on a visit to a power station, a little to the north west of Moscow, towards the end of his stay. Not only was Ivan good company but, being a qualified metallurgist, his area of interest was very similar to Dave’s.