*Track 1 (continued)

(Author’s note: It probably should have been obvious to me (I’m new to this social media game!), but I now realise that given the way the Substack system operates, each new entry automatically relegates any previous posts further down the page. So, to ensure the ‘Challenge 69’ narrative flows properly could you please read my most recent three posts in their correct chronological order; i.e. ‘Intro’, followed by ‘Track 1’, followed by ‘Track 1 (continued)’.

Apologies for any confusion, and if I’ve caused you to miss the earlier ‘Intro’ post then please go back and give it a read, it’s designed as a scene setter/teaser before the main story kicks in.)

‘Track 1’ - continued

By the time Stuart had read through the full message twice he had become consumed by a strange cocktail of emotions, two measures of confidence with an added dash of panic.

The panic stemmed from the very first line, ‘Challenge 2’. What had happened to number one? Had he misunderstood or misread the joining instructions? logged on too late? or was the site, which he’d quickly taken at face value, simply malfunctioning? Illogically he tried logging off and on again, but the same headline still appeared.

On the other hand, presuming he hadn’t already missed the boat leaving its first harbour, Stuart was confident he could solve this clue. It looked to him like familiar cryptic crossword territory.

He’d grown up doing the Daily Mirror quick crossword with his Mum, only realising much later in life how impressive she’d been at completing it, largely without dictionary assistance, despite having been forced by circumstance to leave school at fourteen. Stuart had then parked any such lexicographic interest, through high school and university, with their more immediate distractions, only to discover it making an unexpected return during the lunch breaks in his first job (for a finance company in Wembley) where he’d graduated onto the Daily Telegraph cryptic version.

Stuart had two regular lunch partners; the manager Mr Elias, always known by his surname, who interestingly never smoked upstairs at lunchtime, only downstairs at his desk in front of the customers (that was the early ‘80s for you!), and the clearly over-qualified receptionist Margaret who, proud of her Irish heritage, tried to insist everybody call her Mairead, which never worked as nobody could pronounce it. It soon became clear Mr Elias (or Jim out of work hours) had carefully selected his fellow diners, choosing those members of staff he deemed best qualified to assist his daily, almost pathological, quest to complete the Telegraph crossword. Stuart had probably initially been selected based on his recently acquired Geography degree, with an incorrect assumption made he would therefore know every river and city, but with he and Margaret performing well enough to keep their places in the crossword first team the trio were soon finishing the task most days, even if (Jim authorised) it sometimes took them well over their allotted hour.

Thirty-five years later this solid grounding stood Stuart in good stead. He could still spot a cryptic clue and dissect its structure from a mile off. While it would have proven difficult back in 1982, upstairs in Wembley, to discover the name of the river, “flowing through Leeds,” (and he would likely have been castigated for not knowing it, “just what sort of Geography did you study?”) today, even though it felt like cheating, it took just moments on his smartphone to establish it was the river Aire.

Equally obvious, if your mind had been conditioned to work appropriately, was that the potential referenced by the clue was highly likely, especially with the added reference to flowing, to refer to the potential difference in an electrical circuit. Proving the case there was probably more intrinsic value to be gained from a Physics ‘A Level’ (even at a disappointing E grade) than from a full degree in Geography, Stuart could still recall that electrical potential was measured in volts.

Combining the singular version of that with the river in Leeds gave you Voltaire.

Stuart may have read a sum total of zero of Voltaire’s prodigious output (over two thousand books he discovered later), and he was fairly confident he’d prefer ‘Great Expectations’ to ‘Candide’ any day of any week, but he had recently, conveniently, got a pub quiz question wrong about, “the nom de plume of the 18th Century French Writer, François-Marie Arouet?”. He’d guessed the Marquis de Sade, only to find the correct answer was Voltaire, but importantly he still remembered the exact question having been phrased as, “which 18th Century French writer, from the Age of Enlightenment, ...”

That last word sealed the deal. The solution to, “enlightened potential flowing through Leeds?” had to be VOLTAIRE.

It was still only ten past ten. Despite continuing to worry over how he had managed to miss ‘Challenge’ number one (and what the repercussions might be), Stuart recklessly typed VOLTAIRE into the solution box anyway, and pressed Enter.

###

(Track 2 will follow on 10 September at 10am. In the meantime, please let me know what you think about ‘Challenge 69’ so far.)