by John Parker
He’d been asked to set up a meeting of leading corrosion scientists and engineers to consider the question. He was intending to hold this meeting in London on the day before the conference, as several of the experts he had decided to invite, including Dave, would be in London for the conference. Dave was delighted.
“I look forward to receiving the details, Henry, many thanks.”
With almost indecent haste, Dave phoned Pauline. He would be in London on the evening of the 25th of June and would be staying over for the conference. He wondered if she would like to redeem her voucher for an Italian meal. After a quick diary check, this was arranged.
The main feature of the BSI meeting, from Dave’s perspective, was the pleasure of being in such august company. He was the only unknown. He was relieved to find that, despite this, he was warmly welcomed into their midst. As for the meeting, it was agreed, after lengthy consideration, that there was indeed a need to standardise the most commonly used test procedures and a committee should be set up to undertake this work. Henry was pleased with the outcome and would report to the BSI secretary. Understandably, Dave’s mind was in something of a turmoil, as he travelled the short distance from Green Street to The Bonnington Hotel. He was nervous as he took a shower and prepared himself for his date. This was unfamiliar ground for him. He correctly assumed that things would be very different now from what they had been at the time of his last date, almost twenty years earlier. He met Pauline in the downstairs bar and they made the short walk to the restaurant. The meal was excellent and the house red (Pauline was quite happy with that, she assured him) was very palatable. They chatted unselfconsciously and Dave was surprised that it was only a little after eight o’clock when they left. He was in a strangely expansive mood and insisted that he would escort her home, adding that he was allowed out until after dark these days. It was an easy trip to Shepherd’s Bush from Holborn, Central Line all the way, so after a short time, Pauline let Dave into her flat, just off The Green.
Although he hadn’t known what to expect, his imagination had conjured up a vague idea of Pauline’s private life – he could hardly have been more mistaken. Immediately his vision of Pauline, together with one or two fellow professionals, occupying well-appointed flats in a spacious Victorian house, was shattered when he found himself in what could best be described as a cramped girls’ squat. The cheap furniture in the sitting room was bestrewn with skirts, tights, bras and other assorted underwear. Unwashed cups and plates decorated many of the level surfaces around the fireplace. He found a seat on a sofa, as Pauline went off to change. Almost immediately, the two ‘fellow professionals’ burst into the room, one of whom was almost fully dressed, the other almost fully undressed. They giggled and asked if he was Lena’s Dave. He supposed that he was. He was embarrassed. These girls were barely older than Jo, who in no time might be living in a place like this. He was genuinely amazed. He was familiar with the notion of the generation gap but until now he’d not fully appreciated it – a completely different world.
This initial impression, in itself, was sufficient to convince him that he was out of his depth in this unfamiliar environment, but the transformation in Pauline on her return compounded his confusion. It was not merely a question of the casual costume, beguiling though her new ensemble was, but an astonishing change of her whole personality as she exchanged banter with her flat mates. Surely this wasn’t the Miss Pauline Sage, secretary to the West Winford Corrosion Sub-Committee?
“Coming down The Grapes, Lene?” asked Tina – the undressed one. Pauline said maybe later as she seated herself beside Dave, after consigning a half empty crisp packet to the floor. Eventually they were alone.
“Now we can have a drink, if those two madams haven’t found it.”
They obviously hadn’t, as Pauline returned with half a bottle of gin and a couple of glasses. Dave, though not a gin drinker, was pleased to top up his alcohol level as he was still feeling uncertain as they sat side by side. As he put down his empty glass, Pauline, aka Lena, turned and kissed him enthusiastically, pushing him backwards against the arm of the sofa. He could feel her urgent breasts pressing into his chest and realised only a thin T-shirt covered her. He slid his hands beneath and she sighed as he caressed her – she felt warm, smooth and moist. She pulled away and began to remove his shirt. He began clumsily, trying to help. His tie tangled around his ears. They needed to stand, fumbling, and then staggered towards her room. Lena lay on the bed and wriggled out of her mini-skirt, whilst Dave attempted the difficult task of removing socks, trousers and pants, whilst trying to look cool. They lay naked and entwined. He was urgent and insistent and moved on top of her quickly. He was keen to establish himself as in control, credible, but it was a clumsy attempt. They coupled and Dave was firm, insistent, as he moved. Lena relaxed, still, seeming to submit. It was a ploy. As he moved with increasing urgency she did not succumb. Dave was almost at the height of his passion but he sensed a change and he paused. She moved gently, slowly turning whilst maintaining their contact. Gradually she moved on top. He was stilled. She moved, swaying gently, then firmer – releasing – firmer again – relaxing – harder still, as they moved together. He submitted, following her lead. The rhythm gradually increasing. Dave was now at the point when satisfaction beckoned, his breathing increased. It was amazing. Then, as he approached the height of his desire, she slowed, relaxed, lowering Dave’s passion gently. He moaned. The passion built again. How many times he couldn’t say. Then finally, at last, the craved-for ecstasy. He was taken at her insistent command.
Breathing deeply, satisfied, they lay together. The door burst open.
“Oooh! Sorry. Just letting you know Jake’s got a party going upstairs. See you later.”
Dave dressed quickly. He declined the party invitation and after making his farewells, left to catch his late tube back to normality, his head buzzing. Unsurprisingly, the whole episode led to a sleepless night, not entirely due to an excessive consumption of alcohol.
*
The conference on the Environmental Aspects of the Failure of Number 2 Turbine at West Winford Power Station took place at the Institute of Mechanical Engineers’ Headquarters in Birdcage Walk. It was well attended. Dave was still struggling to get back onto an even keel. The combination of alcohol, lack of sleep and a feeling of disorientation, were taking their toll. He did his best to disguise his discomfort, as he joined Tony and the other representatives from the Scientific Services Department, including Sweety and Bunsen, who had travelled up from Wiltshire that morning. They took their seats near the front of the conference hall. Dave’s head throbbed. In addition to those involved with the power industry, there were many other scientists from the chemistry and corrosion fraternity. Dave recognised two eminent university professors, both of whom had been at the BSI meeting, seated behind him. Slowly, he recovered his composure and began to take more notice of his surroundings. Despite his prejudice, he had to admit that the whole meeting was conducted with great aplomb. All the presentations, detailing station design, operation, steam chemistry, failure analysis and so on, were excellently delivered with high quality slides.
There followed an open debate on what had been presented and on the validity of the Slough hypothesis. Some discussion arose suggesting that this significant conclusion, having major practical and safety implications, was being grounded upon, what was after all, relatively circumstantial evidence. As Dorinda McCann began to respond to this point, with some vigour, Dave was surprised to hear one of the eminent men behind him commenting that he couldn’t understand what all the fuss was about, as this was as clear a case of caustic cracking that he’d ever seen. Even allowing for the circumstantial nature of the evidence, it was generally agreed that this was the most likely explanation – after all what were the alternatives? The conference came to an end and the Chairman, the Chief Scientist of the National Laboratories, made his closing remarks, which included the intention to publish the results widely, in the leading inter
national scientific journals. To Dave’s dismay, he went on to announce that the Technical Investigation Committee and its sub-committees would be disbanded at the end of the year. This would allow all those involved to bring their ongoing investigations to an orderly conclusion.
Dave’s shock and disappointment was understandable. He felt that he had missed out upon his own advancement within SSD by becoming involved with this investigation, instead of being focussed upon his project studying marine corrosion. His technical assessment, although only a few months away, would almost certainly have yielded a positive result if he had been able to obtain even some preliminary results from his Thornton trials.
His initial reaction was to terminate the Winford work quickly and move onto his Thornton project. Hardly had he settled upon this course of action, when his stubborn nature intervened. No, he wouldn’t just give up like that. He wasn’t convinced about the Slough theory. He had the rest of the year to run down the investigation, but what would the sub-committee members and more importantly, his own managers have to say?
“Come on David, you’re invited too.” His thoughts were interrupted by Sweety, who was clearly making the most of being associated with top managers from the SSA, who had been attending the conference. Indeed, there was something of a party atmosphere developing amongst these, as the other delegates left. A light buffet had been set up in an adjoining room for participants and invited guests and this was being supervised by staff from the SSA press office. Henry appeared to be slightly abashed as he was engulfed amongst a group of senior executives, who were paying him homage. It seemed that the national press, who had been in attendance, had gone off to file their reports on the satisfactory conclusion to the investigation of the West Winford incident. The cause, they had learned, was the result of contamination of the turbine steam due to the carry-over of sodium hydroxide from the boiler water during the early commissioning of the power station in 1965. Only turbines Number 1 and 2 had been in operation at the time and these, together with Number 3 turbine had been taken out of service, pending refurbishment of their LP rotors. No further action was deemed necessary.
As Dave travelled home, the lunch-time drink having settled his stomach, he couldn’t help feeling surprised and disappointed to find how easily people seemed to accept what he considered, at best, to be only circumstantial evidence. In the case of the suspected dosing error on Number 2 turbine, for example, Bunsen had recently chatted to one of his chemistry pals from Winford and had learned that it was very unlikely that the dosing mistake had in fact taken place. However, the Station Chemist, being a scrupulous man, had insisted that the possibility, however remote, ought to be included in the station operational log.
Despite his own reservations, Dave was, it appeared, in a minority, as the others were clearly pleased with the outcome. The most important point in his view, which had been neglected, was the crack initiation phase. If steam contamination had not occurred and the discs did not contain any original defects then just how could cracking occur? This was an aspect which required urgent attention. Having decided that this would be his next task, he settled into his seat and allowed himself the luxury of recalling the previous evening.
He marvelled at the difference in Pauline. He had seen films in which the rather dreary secretary was suddenly transformed into a beauty, as she discarded her horn-rimmed spectacles and roughly tumbled her hair out of its restraining pins, but this was quite different. In addition to her appearance, Pauline’s whole personality had changed. As Pauline, she appeared to be a smartly dressed woman, late twenties, privately educated, who fulfilled her role as a secretary with remarkable efficiency and charm – ideal for her position in the civil service. Lena, on the other hand, appeared to be an irresponsible teenager, making the most of her first year away from home at some city college, majoring in sex and drink – given a favourable interview she might be lucky to get a job in the corner shop.
It had all been so different with the girls in Dave’s own era. In the early 1950s you generally had to show a clear intention to marry a girl before you got so much as a feel and even then it was confined to the outside of her sweater. He supposed it was the pill that was mainly responsible for the change. His next thought was when he could realistically contrive to see Pauline, or rather Lena, again.
17
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 th
at 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.