Chapter 17
Friday Morning – at Dawn
The weather was no longer uppermost in people’s minds. The news channels were again broadcasting and after a brief description of the conflicting weather fronts which created the sea surge up the Thames, the newscasters were concentrating on the scenes of death, destruction and mayhem. It was still dark when the first reports were transmitted and the accompanying pictures were unrepresentative of the catastrophe which would unfold at dawn.
The weather fronts themselves were disappearing to the east. The intense depressions were filling and, in their place, an anti-cyclone was producing an atmosphere of calm with unseasonal warm air. This was creating intense fog, across the whole of England. Over the border in Scotland, the air remained cold and, with the wind speeds having dropped, there was a severe frost, which was restricting the repair work to the electricity grid. In addition, the gritters were experiencing long stretches of black ice, curtailing the clearance and re-opening of the roads.
On the River Thames, following the disastrous flooding the previous afternoon, the tide finally turned at six o’clock. As it ebbed and the flood water drained off the land, it swept down river carrying away much of the damaging debris. Containers, boats, barges and cars, anything and everything still retaining some buoyancy was now carried downstream causing further damage to any remaining riverside infrastructure as well as the uprights of various bridges. It was perhaps fortunate that HMS Belfast was stuck fast under London Bridge. Had the ship broken free, it was quite possible that it would have demolished Tower Bridge. During the surge, after crashing into London Bridge, its stern was swept into south bank and grounded in the soft mud. As the tide ebbed, the vessel was caught between its grounded stern and its bow, which was embedded in the bridge itself.
Many containers and vehicles slowly filled with water and sank. They were now strewn over the whole length of the river bed from Teddington in the west to the Thames Barrier and beyond in the east.
At the Barrier, in order to assist the outflow of flood water, the decision was made to open the gates. Although this allowed the water to flow downstream, the gates themselves acted as a giant sieve and captured the floating debris. Slowly a mountain of cars, buses, containers and boats of all sizes built up, creating a steel dam, through which the water still continued to flow, albeit at a decreased rate. This enormous pile of scrap metal acted, in its turn, as a strainer, capturing many of the drowned bodies. The weight was so great that it began to put pressure onto the foundations of the Barrier itself.
At seven o’clock, the sky lightened but the mist, which now pervaded the country from the Channel coast to the Scottish border, filtered the light making the landscape eerily gloomy. Both army teams forwarded messages to their central Headquarters that any overflying would be impossible as, in some places, the mist was reducing visibility to as little as fifty yards. Although this additional meteorological complication was unwelcome, it did not impede the build-up of resources.
In Downing Street, the Prime Minister finally dozed off in his office at about five o’clock in the morning. His staff decided to leave him. At dawn, two hours later, he was roused and updated with all the latest despatches. Glancing through them at speed, he read that High Tide, just one hour earlier, had caused no additional damage; that the army patrols were continuing to assess the damage to the flood defences plus the road and rail infrastructure; that temporary tented hospitals were now established in both Hyde Park and on Clapham Common; that power was restored to all parts of the capital and the hospitals were functioning. Further reports indicated that the damage to housing, roads and businesses on both sides of the Thames was catastrophic; that army patrols were now pushing further down river from the Thames Barrier to assess and evaluate the structural damage and potential loss of life; that the country was blanketed in fog which was expected to remain throughout the morning.
He was further advised that the situation in other parts of the country remained very mixed. In Scotland, the teams on the ground were slowly re-establishing the power grid, but that it would be several days before that work would be completed; snow drifts, black ice and freezing temperatures were still curtailing transportation and communication; there had been flooding in Huddersfield following the failure of a local reservoir wall causing considerable structural damage, but no loss of life; local flooding around the east coast was being contained and structural damage from the hurricane force winds along the south coast was being addressed.
The Prime Minister placed the last report on his desk, stood up and went through the door to find his private secretary.
“I’m going to shower and freshen up. This will be a long and arduous day. Can you advise me when the Meteorological Office is forecasting that the fog will lift?”
Martin Havers stood on the sea wall and, in the gloom of the new day, looked closely at the wall he and his family and friends had constructed. It snaked away from him to the east. The mist was so thick that he was unable to see the far end too clearly. The water was still high on the seaward side, but they had managed to close the gap and build the new wall sufficiently high to deny any significant ingress. Water had slopped over the top when the tide was at its peak, but now it was on the ebb and any danger of a collapse had passed. He turned to look at the truck which had slipped into the ditch and slowly began to plan in his head how best to extract it. He suddenly realised that Wayne had joined him.
“How’re you feeling, Martin?”
“Pretty bloody knackered,” was the uncompromising response.
“When did you last sleep?”
“Last night. No! Wait on a sec. The night before. Well, I suppose that was Wednesday night.”
“Martin, you’ve just led us through the most intensive night of our lives. We’re all knackered, but we’re all much younger than you. It’s time for you to get off home and get to bed.”
“Thanks, Wayne.” Martin looked at the younger man. “We wouldn’t have been able to do all this without you, but I can’t leave now. We’ve got to get your truck out of the ditch and I’m not leaving until that’s done.”
As he turned to walk down the side of the wall, he realised that James was standing just behind, listening to their conversation.
“Come on, James. We’ve got get this truck out of the ditch.”
“Yes, Dad. But you should listen to Wayne and get off home otherwise you’re going to be useless over the weekend.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“It’s your wedding anniversary, Dad. That’s why we’re all at home.”
Martin stood still for a moment and put his hand to his forehead. “I’d completely forgotten about that.”
“Not for the first time, I understand!”
“Well, that is true. But anyway, we’ve still got to get this truck out and all this talk is only taking up time. I’ll get off home as soon as it’s out.”
“OK. But mind that you do.”
"Yes, yes. Come on. We’ve got to do this before it sinks any further. What I think is that we need one truck on the far bank with a chain attached to its jib. The other end should be attached to the rear of the truck. That’ll be a really mucky job – and cold. On this side, both diggers should have chains attached to the front of the truck. As the diggers pull the cab up the bank, the truck on the other side can lift the trailer and suck it out of the mud.
“Once the suction is broken, it should be a simple task to drag it out.” He stopped, to consider what he was saying. “Mind you, the truck driver over on that side must make sure that he releases his chain at the right time. We don’t want another truck in the mire.”
“I don’t think there’s enough room for both of the diggers to work side by side.” In his own mind James was carefully working his way through his father’s plan.
“I realise that. They’ll have to be driving one in front of the other, the rear one with a shorter chain and the front one with a much longer cha
in. Have we got all that kit here?”
Johnny the truck driver had been listening carefully to the plan.
“Boss, as soon as the suction of the mud is broken, I could start the engine and try to drive out, to relieve stress on the chains.”
“What do you think, Martin?” Martin shrugged.
“It’s worth a shout, I suppose.”
Charlie produced the various lengths of chain from the back of the farm truck. The two diggers lined up on the seaward side of the ditch. There wasn’t too much room to manoeuvre and it was lucky that the flat bed wagon was angled, facing slightly towards the west. Charlie volunteered to connect the chains to the front of the truck. The first was connected without too much difficulty. He then wrapped the second in a big loop around the first, ensuring that it wouldn’t slip and in such a way that, as the digger pulled, it would tighten. He now looked at the rear of the vehicle.
“Wayne! Do your flat beds have a towing hook?”
“’Course they do. They’re on the near side. But I don’t think it’ll be much use, because as you lift the trailer, the chain will slip off the hook.”
“Thought you might say that. I’ve also been thinking that when the diggers on this side start to drag the truck out, we’ve got to be able to release the chain at the back, otherwise your other truck could be pulled in.”
“I was wondering how to slip the chain off the hook of the jib. I don’t think we’ll be able to release it from the rear of the truck.”
As he was talking, Charlie was stripping off his coat, jacket and trousers. As soon as he was undressed to his shirt and underpants, he put his boots back on. Wayne had walked over the bridge to direct the driver of the truck with the jib, to ensure it was in the right place. Finally it was parked parallel to the ditch, but close enough for the jib to extend over the water itself. James had driven the farm truck with all the chain over the bridge.
“I’ll attach the chain to the truck first.” Charlie slipped down the bank into the cold water. “Blimey, that takes your breath away!” he quipped as the black, dirty water covered first his knees, then his thighs and finally up to his waist.
On the bank, Wayne looped the chain over the jib and the driver then swung it out over the water, before lowering it sufficiently that Charlie could reach it. He took one end and pulled down a sufficient length, before disappearing under the water. Working with his eyes closed and by feel alone, he wrapped the chain round the axle, pulling enough of the chain to make a big loop. When he resurfaced, he gulped several breaths.
“James, I now need that big locking pin. Quickly. It’s bloody cold in here.”
“Right!”
James waded out into the water and passed the pin to Charlie who attached it to the chain, closing the loop. Wayne now crawled along the jib until he could drop onto the the stricken truck.
James helped Charlie out of the water, where he rubbed himself dry with some spare sacking before dressing once more. As Charlie got back into the land rover, Wayne grabbed hold of the chain. He pulled the slack over the hook of the jib until it was as taut as he could pull it. He then attached a second locking pin.
“Right!” said Wayne. “Let’s do it.”
Johnny the truck driver got back into his cab. Helen and the other digger driver both moved forward slowly taking up the strain. Wayne indicated to the jib operator to try to lift the rear of the truck. As the chain took up the slack, there was a creaking and slurping noise from the rear. Slowly the truck was lifted up about a foot. Johnny started the truck’s engine and the noise of bubbles coming to the surface from its exhaust added to the creaking and slurping. The diggers now slowly began to drag the truck as they held their chains taut. As the truck was slowly pulled forward up the banking, the jib was slowly swung out further over the water slowly becoming increasingly extended.
When the jib was almost at its fullest extension, Wayne shouted to Johnny to engage first gear and gently start to drive. The diggers were still taking the strain, but to everyone’s surprise and relief, the wheels caught traction. Now for the difficult bit, Wayne thought.
He shouted to the diggers to stop dragging forward, but to hold position and to Johnny to stay completely still. With everything stopped, the jib was fully extended across the water. Wayne directed the truck driver to lower the jib until the chain was slack once more. He now removed the locking pin, freeing the chain from the jib. As soon as the jib was free, the diggers started to move forward and Johnny again engaged first gear. Slowly, inch by inch, the truck came over the bank of the ditch, followed by its trailer and a vast amount of black muddy water. When it was safely and completely on the track, the digger drivers stopped and their chains were released. Having watched the whole extraction, James now drove Charlie back to the farmhouse for a hot bath and breakfast.
For the first time since the previous afternoon, Martin now felt that he was able to relax and he sat down on the base of the sea wall. Almost immediately, his head drooped onto his chest as he was fighting off sleep.
Suddenly, he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see Wayne standing in front of him, with Helen just behind. He realised that the day was much brighter and looked round.
“The sun’s out and the mist has gone,” he said, wonderingly.
“That’s right, Mr Havers.” Wayne gently sat down next to him. “It’s gone half past ten and we’ve let you sleep for the past couple of hours.”
“What?” Martin now struggled to get up. He looked at the temporary wall and then across the field to the embankment and the bridge. All the vehicles had gone and all the spare equipment. Only the Land rover, Helen and Wayne remained.
“Come on, Dad. It’s time to go home.”
Martin sat down again and buried his face in his hands. “Thank you. Thank you for all that you’ve done.” As he looked at them both, his eyes filled with tears.
Michael Varley had spent a most uncomfortable night in his office chair. Alice fared little better but was able to relax in the knowledge that there was absolutely nothing she could do to assist the situation and therefore there was no point in worrying about it. She was sure that everything would finally work out fine. After the power was restored, the heating in the building returned, so they were able to keep warm, albeit in their separate offices.
Alice woke just before dawn and after a trip to the ladies’ toilet where she had a stand up wash, she applied a minimum of makeup and put a comb through her hair. She checked the latest news on her computer and now felt able to face whatever the day might throw at her. She went into the kitchen and put on the kettle to brew coffee, wondering whether there would be any shops open. She would have to go out to forage for supplies, but she knew that the early bird catches the worm and after her coffee, she set off.
At first, she thought that the streets were completely deserted but, after walking a few paces, she realised that there were people sheltering in shop doorways, huddled together to keep warm. She walked northwards up Moor Lane towards the Tesco Express. As she approached, she could smell croissants baking and her mouth started to water. Just as I thought. Everything is fine, she said to herself.
She entered the sanctuary of the warm shop, collected a basket and slowly meandered around the gondolas, picking up other items for their breakfast. There were two or three other people, with haunted looks in their eyes, wandering aimlessly through the mini market. Alice realised, looking at their dishevelled appearance, that they must have spent the night on the streets. Besides appearing shell-shocked, they were dirty and shivering. They avoided her as she approached, as if embarrassed. They then shuffled away from her. Alice now realised that they were only in the shop to keep warm.
After paying for her goods, she returned, as quickly as possible, to Le Grove Investments, realising that Michael would be awake and wondering where she was. As she entered the office door, she saw that the light to his office was on and she could hear the television news. She put down her bags and went to his office.<
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“Good morning, Michael,” she said brightly. He raised his head from the armchair where he had spent the night. He was unshaven and his clothes were all wrinkled.
“What’s good about it?” He asked belligerently.
“There’s a bit of mist about but the sun is trying to shine. I’ve got breakfast and I’m going to brew fresh coffee. You should get a shower and have a shave. While you’re doing that, I can freshen up your suit and press your trousers. I think we might be very busy today.”
“Why? The whole world came to an end yesterday. Haven’t you seen the news? London was flooded and thousands, perhaps even millions of people are dead.” He spoke roughly as though he was seeking an argument.
“Yes, I know,” she replied gently. “I’ve checked my phone for updates and I’ve already seen the news on my computer.”
“Well, there you are then. I’m stuck here and I have no idea whether my wife and son are safe.”
“Is there any reason why they shouldn’t be? Have you tried to phone them?” Alice was fast losing patience with this shadow of a man. “Or have you just been wallowing here with no sense of direction or thoughts as to what we now need to do.”
“You can’t speak to me like that,” he complained.
“Well, I just did and I’m going to say more. You are a respected banker. Out there!” She pointed dramatically through the window towards the river. “There will be massive re-construction jobs needing finance. You are so good at raising solid finance, that this could be an extraordinary opportunity for you and Le Grove Investments to get in on the ground floor, not only make a whole pile of money, but possibly to be the controlling influence. Do this right and you will be lauded up and down the city and the country. But get it wrong, or even worse, don’t do it at all and you will forever wonder ‘what if’. We can do this together, if you want but, right now, you’ve got to get a grip.”
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