main course to come and Roberto’s tiramisu is too good to miss.’ Penny pouted like a spoilt child and replied loudly. ‘Don’t want tiramisu – want a shag.’ Duggie winced and peered through the screen. Julie Bunford and her companion were holding hands, oblivious to anyone else in the restaurant. Penny followed his gaze, took the paper back and wrote – 'They’re lesbians. I still want a shag.'
Roberto arrived with the Barolo to accompany the Veal Milanese. Plates and dishes were quietly and efficiently brought to the table by waiters who took their lead from Roberto. As the waiters silently moved away, Penny smiled at Duggie, curled her long fingers around the pepper pot and moved them in a way which produced an instant reaction in Duggie’s trousers. He leant towards her. ‘We could skip the tiramisu.’ She laughed and he stopped wondering what Julie Bunford was playing at.
‘Oh, for god’s sake Julie, stop moaning about Travel Plan. It’s history.’ The comment rose above the general hubbub in the restaurant causing Penny and Duggie to stop mid sip as they drank a toast with the excellent Barolo. Penny put her glass down, reached for her handbag and took out her shorthand notebook. The conversation on the next table revealed everything Duggie wanted to know.
CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.
Peter Bunford had suspected Julie wasn’t happy for a sometime, but it never occurred to him that his wife might prefer women. Last evening though, she had made it very plain she had found her true sexuality. In hindsight he could recognise the signs, but that made no difference, it was pointless trying to persuade her to change her mind. She was obviously happy to be a lesbian and the way she had spoken about it left little doubt she had shared a sexual experience with Lucy, her partner in the cleaning business. Following her news, he decided not to say anything about leaving Meltcon and working at the rugby club, it was none of her business now. What did worry him was how he was going to break the news of his leaving to Lydia. He squatted down to place a hand on a bearing casing. Jeez! He snatched his hand away; the casing was red hot! Niggard was pushing hard for extra production, but, like it or not, the line had to be shut down.
Simon Niggard was drooling over his figures on the computer. Only 4.30am, and he had smashed the shift target. The 90 minutes to the end of the shift would give him an unassailable lead. The Production Director’s position was as good as his. No one could match his record.
It took several seconds for the silence to register. He looked out through the window. The line had stopped! That idiot Bunford was walking down the line from the power breaker. Flinging open the office door he screamed at him. ‘Bunford! My office – now!’
Peter Bunford pretended not to hear and reaching the hot bearing case he crouched next to it to consider the best course of action. Working on it until after it cooled down would be out of the question. He slid under the line to find the drive spindle, where it emerged from the casing, glowing red hot. He slid back out and stood up to face Simon Niggard who was running down the line, gesticulating wildly and commanding everyone to remain at their stations. He arrived, out of breath and red with rage.
‘What do you think you’re doing Bunford? No one stops this line without my say so.’ Peter Bunford calmly looked him in the eye. ‘There was no other option. It’s a case of stopping the line for minor repairs now, or letting it run hot and have it out of production for a whole shift – maybe longer.’
‘I don’t care if it’s shut down for one shift, one day, or one week – it doesn’t shut down on my watch. Haven’t you worked that out yet, you idiot?’ Unable to control his temper, Simon Niggard made the mistake of banging his fist against Peter Bunford’s chest as he screamed. ‘Switch it back on, you idiot. Switch it back on – now!’ Peter Bunford grabbed his wrist, squeezing it hard enough to make him open his hand, then pushing him down, held his palm against the hot casing. ‘Don’t call me an idiot, you moron. If you think I’m going to switch on with bearings that hot, you can think again.’ He let go when Simon Niggard screamed and looked at his reddened hand through tear rimmed eyes. Then he sneered and crowed triumphantly. ‘You have assaulted a senior manager. That’s an instant dismissal offence. You’re fired Bunford – fired! Get your things and leave now!’
Peter Bunford smiled at him. ‘You’re a bit late for that Niggard; my resignation letter went into Human Resources before I came on the shift.’ He turned and walked away and as he approached the Quality Control room, he heard the line start up again.
Lydia was surprised to see him; he was usually busy on the line towards the end of a shift. He grinned and closed the door. ‘How are things?’ She picked up a Meltcon Bar from the bench she was working on. ‘Not good; look at this, another misshape. I’m not supposed to let more than.05% through, but Niggard has the line moving so fast its shot up to over 7%. I’ve tried telling him, but he won’t budge, you know what he’s like.’
‘Certainly do, Line’s running red hot. Switched off without his permission, so he fired me – instant dismissal’
Lydia bristled. ‘He can’t do that.’
‘Well, he thinks he can, but it’s too late anyway. I've already handed in my notice.’
Lydia voice betrayed disappointment. ‘You never told me you were leaving?’ Peter put his hands on her waist and lifted her onto the bench. ‘I’m sorry; I didn’t have time to tell you. Everything changed yesterday evening.’ She took off her glasses and wiped her eyes, before putting them back on again and looking intently at him. ’I don’t think I’ll want to continue with this job if you’re not around Pete, what changed?’
‘I was offered a job at the Rugby Club and didn’t have the opportunity to discuss it with Julie until she came back from taking Becky to Nottingham.’
‘She agreed to you working at the Rugby Club?’
‘No – she had news to tell me first. She’s leaving me to live with the partner in her cleaning business. She wants a lesbian relationship.’ Lydia took off her glasses again and they kissed.
Simon Niggard smiled with satisfaction; the line was running at full speed again, he watched for several seconds through his office window, before turning his attention to the computer. He had the report to write to justify Bunford's instant dismissal. The assault was unprovoked – he had witnesses – he would lay it on thick and heavy – he was a past master at twisting the truth to suit his own ends. Bunford would wish he had never crossed him. He typed the report, sniggering to himself as he did so and was in the process of emailing it to Human Resources, when the strident ringing of the fire alarm jolted him back to the real world. He looked through the window to see a small fire near the suspect casing, quickly aborting the email and added – 'Despite serious overheating, Bunford ignored my order to stop the line.' He clicked on send and watched it connect and go through. When he looked out at the line again, the fire had taken hold. Bunford was there with a fire extinguisher, but it was spreading along the line towards the glucose vats. Could they explode? He wasn’t about to take a chance. He sent a final production update to the main computer before shutting everything down; then grabbing his attache case and jacket, fled from the office.
He joined a stream of workers heading towards despatch and the loading bay. The only way out now the fire had taken hold. He ordered them into a line to save as many Meltcon Bars as they could, exhorting them to greater efforts from the safety of the loading bay. More than half of the packed cases had been cleared when Bunford came along and told everyone that the fire was fuelled by oxygen drawn in through despatch. They should all leave as he was about to close the shutters. To Simon Niggard’s chagrin, they allowed Bunford to countermand his order. Most jumped down into the loading bay; those that couldn’t filed out in an orderly fashion through the emergency exit door. With everyone out, Peter Bunford smashed the glass and hit the large red emergency button to close and lock the steel roller shutters. As they rumbled down, he ran to fetch Lydia from the Quality Control Room.
Outside in the loading bay an angry Simon Niggard watched the workers as they ran through the lorry park to the designated assembly point. After everyone had gone, he crept up the steps to the emergency exit door and using his master key, locked it shut.
When Peter returned with Lydia it did not take long to realise they were trapped! He put a comforting arm around Lydia.
‘It seems the only way out it is through the fire. We can stay here and hope the firemen manage to get to us, or make a dash for it.’ Lydia was very calm. ‘I don’t think the firemen will be looking for anyone. Niggard knew we
