Dave left the girls to gather up their belongings whilst he collected the car. It was an early start from Bloomsbury over Tower Bridge and on to Greenwich. They stopped briefly to stretch their legs in the park, which was lovely in the weak winter sunshine. Sue was anxious to get over to Sedley, in time to have a good look around before dark. Accordingly, they didn’t stop for lunch, but bought sandwiches to eat on their journey.
From Greenwich they drove to Bromley and southwards down the A21 towards Hastings. Just over the Kent border, they arrived at the picturesque village of Sedley. Sue had a copy of the diagram she had made, which located Potten’s Mill. She matched it, as best she could, with their freshly purchased OS map. Surprisingly quickly, they found the small junction with a lane leading to the mill, but it was unsuitable for cars. “So it’s trekking time,” said Dave. Jo and Katy pleaded tiredness and stayed in the car whilst their parents, wrapped up in their coats, set off on foot. They found the small stream and in amongst the tangled undergrowth was a ruin that presumably had been the mill. Three partial walls remained, the fourth having tumbled completely. There seemed nothing of interest inside the walled area but, as they were leaving, Dave drew Sue’s attention to the top of the archway which he assumed had been the main entrance to the building. The keystone was still in place at the top of the arch and it had an inscription. Although not clear, it seemed to be initials, beneath which was a date. It looked like HP with the date 1775.
“It could be P for Potten,” suggested Sue hopefully.
“Quite possible, given the mill’s name.”
“It would be wonderful if I could prove it was my ancestor,” Sue added with enthusiasm.
“Well, we best get going, if you want to check the churchyard out. I don’t like the look of those grey clouds coming in from the west.”
Back in the car, Sue reported their discovery and she was surprised at her daughters’ keen attention and eager offer to help her look at gravestones – a spooky adventure. St. Anne’s church was not far, being in the centre of the village. Sue had been so optimistic that this would be the burial place for many of her Potten ancestors. Consequently, it was an anti-climax, when a thorough search of the churchyard failed to reveal any. She tried to hide her natural disappointment, as it had been such a lovely family trip.
“Only just finished in time. I reckon there’s snow in the offing and it’s getting pretty dark,” warned Dave, looking upwards at the encroaching black clouds.
They drove away and, almost immediately, came to another village which, Sue was surprised to find, was called Sedley St. Peter. Another Sedley! She thought quickly. Would the 1851 census enumerator have been specific in recording which Sedley after all? Sedley St. Anne or Sedley St. Peter? Indeed, it appeared that this was the larger village. She just had to know. They had come all this way. The others could understand the situation and agreed that they should at least stop for a quick check through the churchyard here. Their natural instincts would have been to get home quickly, but the feeling of togetherness, of family harmony, seemed to have affected them all. If they all helped they might just beat the worst of the weather. The snow had started to fall, but only lightly.
“Oh, Dear! There are more here, we shall have to hurry as this snow is getting heavier. It will be covering the inscriptions soon. Let’s spread out.”
Dave moved to the left and worked his way along the side of the church. Sue searched along the boundary wall, with Jo and Katy attempting to fill in between their parents as best they could. Whilst Katy’s enthusiasm was evident, Jo’s was a little less so, but she was doing her bit. Nothing. They moved to the other side of the church and repeated their slow, patterned, search. Occasionally there was a half cry of joy, from one of the girls, followed by an apologetic ‘sorry’. Whilst some of the headstones were in good condition and the inscription clear, many were not, and the combination of lichen growth and erosion made identification impossible. At least the undergrowth was not rampant at this season, but the snow was not helping. Sue was becoming despondent as it looked as though the snow was winning the battle. Then triumph.
“Quick, Mummy, over here, I’ve found one,” exclaimed an excited Katy, jumping up and down clapping her hands. “It’s a Potten. Quick, come and look.”
“Don’t shout Katy, remember where you are.”
The three of them rushed to join her as the falling snow thickened into large sticky flakes, ideal for making snowmen. It began to stick with a purpose to clothes and eyelashes, as it was swept by a strengthening wind. The headstone recorded the passing of a Neri Potten and his wife Mary.
“And another one,” called Jo from a behind a yew tree. Whilst Sue attempted to write legibly, turning her back to the snow flurries, Dave went to join Jo. They read this one with some difficulty, as the snow was obscuring some of the stone – George Potten died 1835. Sue hurried over to make notes; it was difficult to get the pen to write on the damp paper.
“Over here. This is a big one,” called Dave, half turning to keep the snow to his back. The others struggled over to him, the ground was very uneven. Sue bent down and saw the partly covered headstone and could just make out part of the inscription.
‘In Loving Memory of Thomas Potten… Eliz… 1810 1856… Devoted Wife… Beloved Daught… Oc… 2yrs and Caroline… mes 1846… with her… ’
“Oh, my goodness,” she gasped, as she knelt down and hurriedly brushed away the settling snow. It was thickest at the lower part of the inscription. Finally it became fully legible:
‘In Loving Memory of Thomas Potten 1806 – 1858 and Elizabeth 1810 – 1856 His Devoted Wife with Beloved Daughters Octavia aged 2yrs and Caroline Loomes 1846 – 1891 Reunited with her Family.’
“Oh, my goodness,” she repeated. “Look, even young Octavia’s here and Caroline. It’s her. See her married name? She’s mine. At last,” gasped Sue. “I’ve searched for you for so long.”
Dave, taking a scrap of paper from his pocket, suggested that he noted the top two lines and Sue the rest before they became obliterated again. Having done this, he stepped back with Katy and Jo either side of him. They stood quietly whilst Sue, rising to her feet, gazed down on the grave. “Thank you,” she whispered. She straightened up and smiled sheepishly, as she brushed the snow from her face along with her tears; tears of joy. Dave, flanked by Jo and Katy, also felt emotional as they watched her. A brief pause.
“Come on then,” said Dave, putting an arm protectively around the girls either side of him. “Let’s get home and celebrate,” and all four of them linked arms, a family united, and walked down the path and through the gate – happily through the thickening snow.
*
The snow increased, the flurries swirling in the arctic wind. The gravestones took on a greyish hue. The bitter chill cut deeply. Two girls held hands whilst their mother swept the snow from the inscription, her tears almost frozen as she gazed down with love.
Alexander Borisovitch Denisov
“Sasha”
1934 – 1970
Beloved Husband and Devoted Father
Tragically killed trying to save others.
12th November 1970
R. I. P.
*
It was two months later that Dave heard the news of Sasha’s passing and it came as a dreadful blow. Although it was to be expected that his death and its cause would be distressing, added to this was a feeling of guilt. He sat in his office and found himself shaking and emotional. If he had not prevaricated over submitting his paper, it might have made all the difference. Certainly, he knew that he had passed on his concerns to Sasha and emphasised the urgent necessity to take action, which may have prevented the tragedy, but could he have done more? He would have been sad whoever the victim had been, but having met Sasha and his family added greatly to his sorrow.
The Harrison family mourned. They sent a message of condolence to Elena and the girls. Dave also wrote to Ivan requesting more information and news of the Denisov family. Several weeks later a letter arrived from Elena, translated by Natasha, which thanked them for their kind words and hoped that they would keep in touch, as they so much enjoyed hearing all the news from England.
*
Dave’s technical note did, as promised, appear in the November 1970 issue of International Power Digest, the definitive paper being published in Corrosion Review in May 1971. This was well received and in the following months his correspondence contained many invitations to attend meetings and conferences worldwide. He was delighted, but was only able to accept a few due to his workload. He had become heavily involved in the British Standards Institution’s Corrosion Committee, in addition to his normal work and although he still had ambition and enjoyed his work, this was now strictly balanced with his private family life.
One invitation that he did accept, was to return to Moscow to receive an award from the USSR Electrical Union. This had obviously passed through Ivan’s hands as he had appended a note, informing Dave that he would have an opportunity to meet the Denisov family.
As his flight approached its destination, Dave’s thoughts returned to his earlier trip. The airport bureaucracy retained its previous menace. Dave was delighted to be greeted by Ivan. They shook hands warmly and swapped news, as they were driven into the city. The hotel this time was the Intourist, overlooking Red Square, where they shared an evening meal.
The following morning Dave joined the official breakfast party, hosted by the event organisers, before travelling out to Moscow State University, a magnificent edifice, situated in the Lenin Hills. As they disembarked from their taxis, the group of guests paused to admire the panoramic views over the city, before being escorted to the main conference hall. Following a long welcoming speech, the awards ceremony began. Dave was last to be presented. He received a medal and scroll. He was embarrassed and humbled by the overstated citation highlighting his ground-breaking discovery which had led to the modification of power plant operational procedures and potentially saved many lives. He was invited to say a few words before he rejoined the audience.
Then an added item was announced and from the side of the stage, Elena, Natasha and Tanya appeared. After a brief welcome, a presentation was made. Elena, with great dignity, accepted a special posthumous award, in recognition of Alexander’s brave, selfless, action, which had saved many colleagues.
A reception followed, which allowed Dave time to talk to the Denisovs. He was pleased to find that Natasha’s English was so assured that he could be confident that his sympathy, good wishes and his family’s sadness, could be accurately conveyed to Elena. He then presented them with gifts from the Harrison family. To Natasha and Tanya, books – The Phantom Tollbooth and The Mystery of the 99 Steps and Elena was delighted to receive one of Jo’s paintings, even more so when Dave explained that it was a view of their home in Wiltshire.
Before leaving, Dave expressed his hope that changes in the political climate, might soon allow a greater freedom of movement between their countries. He knew that Jo and Katy would be so excited at the prospect of one day meeting Natasha and Tanya.
*
Sue had not been idle since the New Year. She had worked her way slowly into her collaboration with Peter. Although many of the enquires, mostly from overseas, could be dealt with using records with which she had become familiar, others required her to delve into unknown archives, such as Wills, Bishops’ Transcripts and Monumental Inscriptions. She tackled all enquires with gusto, as she empathised with the ‘customers’, having experienced their passion. An additional spur was the experience she was gaining, which would be invaluable as she continued to pursue her own ancestors. As the months passed, her accumulating knowledge of Wills and Monumental Inscriptions increased and, gradually, her articles in magazines and contributions to family history conferences, became popular.
*
Thus life in the Harrison household settled into a comfortable, though busy, routine for Dave and Sue. They were fortunate as their respective passions were to prove to be a great help as they approached a major upheaval in their lives. This began with Jo making her final preparations to begin her art studies at Sheffield. Although she had eagerly awaited this time and was excited, she realised that it was an important moment for the family and the final goodbyes were emotional for them all. Hardly had they adjusted to this new situation, before it was time for Katy to follow. She was not staying on to take ‘A’ levels, as she was eager to begin a career in nursing. She had been accepted to begin her training at a Bristol teaching hospital at the age of seventeen.
Barry and Velma were in a similar position, as their girls were away from home too. The Turner family bond remained firm. At times of special significance and even sometimes on a whim, celebrations were held. The traditional format was maintained, with Barry in his customary role as MC. These occasions were always eagerly anticipated by all the family. Although the youngsters had matured, and were away with their studies, they were still keen to be part of the celebrations; the treasured family ties evident as they filled the house with gaiety.
Though Sue and Dave felt the loss of their daughters sorely, with great fortitude they had acclimatised, realising that love is proved by the letting go. Their lives moved to a new level. They became much closer, each supporting the other. They took a keen interest in each other’s activities. Dave even found time to make a modest attempt to research his own family tree and was Sue’s willing assistant in supporting her work.
Ah, but a woman’s reach should exceed her grasp,
Or what’s a heaven for?
*