Chapter 1: The invitation

"I think I will do that," Tom Peders exclaimed to himself as he read the email from his Stateside friend, Chuck Walters.

Hi Tom

Why don't you bring that heap of polished brass you call a fire engine over to our show? You can stay with us for a couple of weeks and have a tour round. If you can stay till the 24^th, we might persuade you to give a talk to our local group. We sure would be pleased to meet you after all these years.

Chuck

Tom and Chuck had corresponded first by snail mail and now electronically for many years. They had never met but had become good enough friends to make derogatory remarks about each other's work. 'That heap of polished brass you call a fire engine' was actually an exquisitely crafted model of a Shand-Mason steam powered fire engine c1890 that had won a silver medal at the last Model Engineer Exhibition in London.

"I think I will do that," Tom repeated, "There's nothing to stop me now I've been made redundant and they gave me redundancy pay equivalent to over one year's salary so I don't really need to work for a bit. I've plenty in my savings accounts to last me a while if I live like I've been doing for the past few years." The engineering firm where Tom worked for the last twenty years, ever since he left school at 15 had been taken over by a big multinational company which had closed the tool making section and transferred it abroad. "It's the end of September so the high season fares should have gone down."

Two weeks later, Tom found himself at Gatwick Airport trying to explain the contents of the polished wooden box after it had passed through the Xray machine. He had decided the parts were too fragile to let the box pass through with the cargo hold luggage and it was small enough at about fourteen inches long to go as hand luggage. Fortunately he had made the box so the sides folded down when four toggle clasps were opened. He also had the copy of The Model Engineer that described the making of the engine. After fifteen minutes of explanation, it seemed the officers were more interested in the model than in it being a security risk.

It was a similar if somewhat different scenario when he arrived at Dulles Airport, Washington DC. After standing in line for ages to get through immigration, he finally arrived at the desk to be greeted by a rather sour woman who questioned him aggressively concerning the fact he had only $100 in cash, no travellers cheques and only one credit card. Half convincing her he wasn't going to be staying over his allotted time she then turned to the purpose of his visit. "You've brought a model engine to exhibit in a show here in Washington and yet you say on this form the value is £200, that is only $300. Surely any exhibit in a high profile show is going to be worth more than that?"

"That was the cost of materials," Tom replied, "I put my own time in and don't charge myself for the pleasure."

"But you might easily sell it for a lot more?"

"I wouldn't sell it Ma'am. I've put too much of my time and effort into making it to want to sell it."

"But you could easily sell it," the officer insisted.

"Ma'am, why would I want to do that? All I would get was money. Everyone has that. It's common stuff. No one in the world has a fire engine like mine. It's unique. I will not be selling it."

"How else are you going to pay for your nineteen day stay?" Tom tried to convince her that he was staying with friends and he wouldn't be needing that much money and in any case he had a credit card but the woman just seemed to lose patience and reached under the table to ring for assistance. Another woman officer came and from her appearance seemed senior to the desk officer. Tom was lead away to an office.