Dipsora

Jay Ramella

Description

Although this book is a work of fiction, it is a fact that the UK narrowly escaped Soviet invasion in 1978. There remains one unanswered mystery for readers and author alike - who WAS Keith?Espionage, sabotage and intrigue are exposed against the backdrop of more than forty years of Cold War in a Lincolnshire setting. Terrorism and a dramatic race against time and discovery ensue as the Nash family unites to protect one of its own without any regard for an innocent woman's lost freedom. The drama unfolds to reveal surprising strengths and weaknesses.Narrated with humour and pathos through flashbacks, a private diary and a blog and social media platform, DIPSORA, the story is told of a slow-burning love affair that flares into sexual passion amidst political change and faltering convictions. Throughout this novel, a series of revelations rock the lives of the seemingly run-of-the-mill Nash Family.

Informations

• Publié par: Bain Press
• Date de parution: 04 décembre 2012
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781871506471
• Langue: English

Extrait

Originated in England.
Copyright 2012 by Bain Press
ISBN 978-1-871506-47-1 A catalogue record of this book is available from the British Library.
All rights reserved; no part of this publication may be stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any other means, electronic or mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without prior permission of the publisher.
Whilst every effort has been made to ensure that the factual content of this book is accurate and up to date the publisher takes no responsibility for errors or omissions. Notwithstanding the above, this story is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author's imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Cover illustration: www.marieclaret.co.uk
www.DIPSORA.com [e-mail]
DIPSORA
It will not spoil the plot if I reveal there is still one unanswered question at the end of this book - who was Keith?
It is true that the Soviet Union blueprinted England with a view to invasion and that both Grimsby and Lincoln were mapped in detail.
Due to its combination of location and infrastructure Grimsby remained important to the USSR throughout the Cold War years. It was to have been one of the first landing points in the north of England. That plan was close to fruition in 1978.
You can visit Stenigot in the Lincolnshire Wolds to see the remains of the NATO ACE Relay Station with its high metal tower that still presides for miles across the rolling landscape. You can explore the little market towns of Louth and Market Rasen. You can discover the remote villages of Binbrook, with its airfield and wartime connections, and Elkington with its farm cottages.
However, you won’t find Keith and Debbie’s old house with its tiled steps and glorious rose garden in the conservation area of Louth, and neither to the best of my knowledge or belief is there an estate near Epsom that revels in the name of ‘Lakelands.’
Some Russian vocabulary was essential to the plot and, though most of its meaning should be self-explanatory, it is included separately and has been rendered phonetically with the aid of online translation.
Acknowledgement is due also to John Davies’s ‘Uncle Joe knew where you lived,’ the story of the Soviet Mapping of Britain.
The story behind DIPSORA
My father was a decorated veteran of both World Wars (1914-1945) who always believed in his own luck – often a reckless act of faith! He was also a writer and a maverick of a man who pursued other interests between working on the News of the World and the London Evening News. Somewhere along the way he developed an unexplained passion for England’s East Coast. Why? I don’t know - he was a Welshman born in Watford – but he had a taste for sentimental Art and a man who warbled excerpts from Puccini’s operas every morning while shaving was going to be disposed in favour of East Anglia’s Constable and his Haywain.
We lived in ‘London West Central One’, as my father would declaim pompously, ignoring the fact that not only did our accommodation leave much to be desired, our postal code encompassed three railway termini and their sordid hinterlands. Summer holidays meant a week of what my father called ‘a roaming holiday along the East Coast.’ He was working for the mysterious Economic League then so our bucolic ramblings took place in an incongruously conspicuous sign-written Ford Thames van.
By the time I had children of my own, London had become an increasingly toxic place. We rejected suburban dormitory counties because, ironically, we couldn’t afford them but also because they weren’t what we were looking for. Like my Dad, we found ourselves following the A1 and by a process of elimination we found ourselves in Lincolnshire. ‘No problem with water or electricity,’ said the surveyor’s report, ‘you haven’t got either!’
Driving off the A153 and down into the village of Goulceby the Stenigot Signals Relay Station loomed large on the horizon. ‘Fat tummies!’ shrieked my little boys at the sight of the huge round parabolic aerials and that was what they called them in perpetuity. The contrast of children’s jokes with the reality of their purpose still freezes me today. There were innumerable scary and improbable rumours about the site before and after its disposal but one thing remains clear. For many years the Chain Station was our first defence against enemy attack from across the North Sea and it is unimaginable that Soviet agents did not infiltrate it. Once you have acknowledged that concept, you realise that Keith must have been there all the time.
The rest is imagination.
PHONETIC TRANSLATION
Beliyi poroshok - The white powder
Beremennaya - Pregnant
Bratyshka - Brother
Byvshiy - Lit . Former (people) or old and elevated social order
Chopornaya devushka – Primly respectable girl
Dermo - Shit
Dorogoi - Darling
Doushka - Soul (used as term of enderament like darling)
Dyadya - Uncle
Galubka - Little dove (darling)
Gryaznoi sukoy - Dirty bitch
Konspiratsiya - Conspiracy or scheming plot
Kulturniy - Cultured or civilised
Mladshiy brat - Little brother
Mochit sya - To piss or pee
Moya lyubov - My love
Moi syn - My son
Ne ostavish menya - Don’t you leave me!
Nepriyatnost - Nuisance
Nevinnuyu devushku - Innocent girl
Nye poglyadyev na khlyeb, nye govori, chto syt - Do not say you are fed if you haven’t touched bread
Pozdravlyayu - Congratulations
Prizrak - Ghost
Promezhnost - Crotch
Ssat’ - To piss
Suka - Bitch
Tri sestry - The Three Sisters
YA gotov mochit’sya sebe! - I'm ready to piss myself!
YA umirayu za mochoi - I’m dying for a piss
Yaschik - Box
Zatknis! - Shut up!
Zemlekopov - Navvies
Zhivot - Belly
Zhivotnoe - Beast
Prologue Lincolnshire 2006
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Chapter 1 Beth Lincolnshire, 2007
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Chapter 2 Beth Lincolnshire, 2008
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Chapter 3 Beth Lincolnshire, 2007
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Chapter 4 Beth Lincolnshire, 2009
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Chapter 5 Konstantin Lincolnshire, 1969
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Chapter 6 Konstantin ‘Lakelands’, 1997
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Chapter 7 Beth Lincolnshire, 2009
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Chapter 8 Konstantin Lincolnshire, 2009
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Chapter 9 Beth Lincolnshire, 2009
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Chapter 10 Valeriya Surrey and Lincolnshire, 1960- 2010
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Chapter 11 Valeriya Surrey and Lincolnshire, 1960- 2010
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Chapter 12 Valeriya Surrey, 2010
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Chapter 13 Beth Lincolnshire, 2010
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Chapter 14 Valeriya Surrey, 2010
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Chapter 15 Valeriya, Surrey, 2010
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Chapter 16 Beth, Lincolnshire, 2010
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Chapter 17 Valeriya Surrey, 2010
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Chapter 18 Valeriya Surrey, 2010
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Chapter 19 Valeriya Surrey, 2010
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Chapter 20 Beth Lincolnshire, 2010
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Chapter 21 Valeriya Surrey, 2010
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Epilogue St Petersburg, 2010
PROLOGUE
The offices of Waine, Pettit and Hall, solicitors, Louth, in the County of Lincolnshire Thursday 12th December 2006
She hadn’t been qualified all that long, so Hannah Fisher was conscientious still about reviewing her work at very stage. The contracts had been exchanged, the money transferred, the agent had delivered the keys and the removers were booked and waiting to act. All that remained for her to do was to scribble her signature, stamp the conveyance and get the paperwork off to the Land Registry. Her clients, a likeable young couple called Greg Simms and Alice Morton, would be installed in their new home in time for Christmas. As she tidied the bundle of deeds for the final time she realised that it contained a copy of the pamphlet prepared by the agent who had handled the sale of this property. The house had gone to auction after an unusually long period of non-occupation and she smiled as she remembered the triumphant delight with which Greg and Alice had instructed her to act for them. They considered they had got themselves a bargain. Most unusually, the vendor was a foreign embassy in London. The property had last been acquired nearly 40 years before in 1968. Hannah imagined briefly a high-powered diplomat stepping into his limousine in Kensington Palace Gardens on his way for a visit. The A1 road would have been akin to a cart track then she reflected; almost exclusively single lane, anyway. What on earth could have been the attraction of making such a journey to this out of the way spot in the Lincolnshire Wolds? She searched for clues in the property description and its pictures. The house was in the conservation area of the town and was described intriguingly as being arranged on two and a half floors with three/four bedrooms. The half floor and its ‘oblique four’ bedroom were in fact a third storey. It comprised half an attic under the eaves with an adjacent windowless box room. Between them, they spanned the width of the narrow building. Judging by the profusion of electrical power points and aerial and telephone sockets someone had once used the attic room for an office or study. Both the light and the view through the unusual, long, bow window would be lovely. The house retained some other nice period features. The fireplaces, in particular, were interesting and it was obvious that someone at some time had restored them carefully. In the little back garden, overgrown now, an abundance of singularly beautiful roses still flourished defiantly and it was detectable here, too, that someone had once taken pride and pleasure in its small magnificence. A carefully picketed compost heap was still in evidence. Hannah smiled and tucked the brochure and its enigmas back in the bundle. Greg and Alice might like to look back on it years later when they were eventually granted the deeds; after they’d paid the mortgage off, of course.
CHAPTER 1 - BETH
‘ You came you saw, You conquered me. When you did that to me, I somehow knew that this had to be’
‘These Foolish Things’ H. Marvell & Jack Strachey
Lincolnshire
Wednesday 13th June 2007
Beth’s Blog
Moved into a farm cottage today - green fields, peace and quiet! There is another semi-detached cottage like mine with a blue door and ivy around the front window