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 attaché 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 were in here and he’s the only one with a key to lock this door from the outside.’ Peter nodded his agreement. ‘Unfortunately, I think you’re right. We both know Niggard only too well.’
‘What about a way out through to the next line? `
‘The rest of the factory is automatically isolated when the fire alarm goes off. All the interconnecting doors will be locked.’
‘I could try emergency services. I’ll use the phone in Quality Control.`
‘Good idea, but just in case it doesn‘t work, I’ll get my mobile.’ He sprinted towards the men’s locker room as she ran to Quality Control. Smoke which had been pushed away by the air dragged in through the loading bay was becoming a problem. She closed the door behind her before picking up the phone; it was dead. Determined not to panic, she held a handkerchief over her mouth and nose and calmly walked towards the men’s locker room. They met in the doorway; he was carrying his bike leathers, gloves and helmet, together with several overall coats. ‘Any luck? ` She shook her head. ‘Phone’s dead, what about your mobile?’
He gave her a rueful smile. ‘Must have left it in one of the panniers on the bike.’
She coughed as a curl of smoked drifted around them. ‘So what do we do now Pete?’
‘This way, I’ve got an idea.’ She followed him into the locker room. He closed the door behind them.
Dudley Wink was in the Royal Mail Sorting Office when he heard the news. This was too good an opportunity for any photographer to miss. In the half light the glow from the Meltcon fire cast flickering shadows across the car park as he ran to get his camera. He arrived at the front entrance to the Meltcon factory before the fire engines and began taking pictures. They were disappointing – he needed more drama. The fire engines arrived in an urgent clamour and a fire officer was swiftly on the case, moving onlookers away. Dudley managed to evade his sweep by crouching behind a bush. Sparks flew from the roof of the building as fire burst through – that was better. He assumed everyone was out, but just in case, kept his camera focussed on the entrance.