It was a rainy evening in a small town on a small island off the English coast. A young woman of about 23 years in a royal blue knee-long dress, black high heels and a broad golden waist belt sat in a bar, sipping on her Blue Constantinople occasionally and surveying the people coming and leaving. She was thinking about the last few days' events since she arrived; why were all the guys always thinking she would be easy prey? Was she sending explicit messages without even knowing? Back home in Austria, this never happened to her. She only went to the UK for her studies of railways, art and music.
Deep in thought, she didn't notice that someone was standing in front of her with a questioning look. She only sensed the presence of the other when that particular person put down a hand on the table and asked again, "Excuse me, but there aren't any free tables anymore. May I sit down with you?"
"I... uh... yes of course. I'm sorry, I was in thought," the young woman answered, a bit perplexed, but smiling.
As she looked at the person next to her for the first time, her mouth ran dry. He was about the age of 25 from her guesses, had jet black hair, wore red trousers with a black and golden stripe on the sides, a black dress shirt, a golden tie, a red jacket and black shoes. But what was the most stunning were his eyes; they were of a glowing golden shade, almost as golden as his tie. The female shifted uncomfortably in her seat and glanced at her glass as she noticed that she had been staring at him.
"Sorry to be so curious, but you don't seem to be from here because of your slight accent. Where are you from?" the man asked her, sitting down in the chair opposite of her.
"Oh, me? I'm from Austria. I'm only here to study art, music and railways for a year. A friend referred me to Sodor, she told me this was the best place to learn something about these things," she answered, smiling at her counterpart.
"That's actually quite interesting! How come a young and pretty lady as you are is interested in railways? ... Oh, sorry for my being so rude as not to introduce myself before asking all these things, my name's James," he said, grinning.
"Nice to meet you, I'm Sandy. And don't worry, hardly anyone ever asked why I'm here anyways..." she replied, sighing and blushing a bit.
The two talked for a while longer and got to know each other better. Sandy came to the conclusion that James was different from all the other boys and men she got to know before. He had that certain something about him that made her shiver every time he looked at her. And there was something else; she felt save, like she could tell him anything and not be judged. He didn't look at her the way everyone else usually did, he actually seemed to be paying attention to what she had to say and she grew to like him a small bit despite not knowing him for long. The two lost track of time completely, not noticing that the bar was already empty apart from them and the bar tender has exaggeratedly glanced at his pocket watch several times already. Only then, the blonde realized what time it actually was.
"Oh my, look what time it is! I have to go, there's too much I have to do tomorrow," Sandy exclaimed, looking at her wrist watch with a slightly shocked expression.
"Let me pay for your drink, can I accompany you home then?" James asked, all the gentleman.
"Well, I- thanks, but I don't really have a home. I live right across the street, in that small hotel. And, I hardly know you," Sandy replied, looking down to the ground before her, feeling ashamed that she didn't have a proper place to stay at and a bit worried about his offer for company.
After James had paid for their beverages, the two left the bar and it was raining heavily, typical British weather one might say. James pulled out a red umbrella from under his jacket, opened it up and held it over their heads. It took James some convincing to stop Sandy from running off right into the rain on her own as she was still sceptical. After a few minutes, they finally walked over to the house which Sandy had called a "hotel" before. James stopped dead, looking at the house and then back at Sandy wide eyed.
"This isn't a hotel, this is a cheap motel where prostitutes take their suitors! How the hell did you end up there?!" James asked her.
"I- I booked the ticket to England, the train to Sodor and the room back home via an agency, but how do you know this is a motel where... urm, well these things are happening?" Sandy was a bit confused.
"A friend's girlfriend was once here with one of her suitors. A very unkempt and fat guy was standing behind her and already tried to get between her legs right outside the door. My friend saw that and got between them as he had thought the man was trying to rape her. They fled the scene and the next day my friend paid her 'employer' to free her, to shorten a long story," he explained, "But let's go in and collect your things now, you can stay the night with me until we found something better for you."
"You really think this is such a good idea? I mean, I'm grateful for your offer, but I can only repeat: I hardly know you," Sandy answered doubtfully, slightly raising an eyebrow.
"Don't worry, you can sleep in my bedroom and lock the door if you don't feel save. I'll sleep on the couch in the living room which is downstairs in my house," he said, smiling a bit.
"Alright, thanks! I really appreciate that. But be aware I do know how to defend myself if needed," she answered, showing a bit more confidence.
So James and Sandy went into her room to collect her suitcase, which she didn't even unpack yet, and her bag with her laptop. As they left the room and Sandy locked the door from the outside, James sniggered slightly as he saw that the door bore the number five. Sandy noticed that and gave him a questioning look, but he only raised his shoulders and gestured with his head for them to leave this unwelcoming place. They went downstairs and Sandy walked over to the counter to give her key back. The scruffy man looked at her and then waved his hand for her to leave.
Sandy and James left the dirty motel and walked over to a red sports car. James pulled out the key and opened the car. Sandy only looked at him wide eyed; she hadn't been expecting him to have such an awesome car. They heaved her suitcase into the luggage compartment and then got into the car and James drove off. After some minutes of driving out into the countryside, James turned the car to the right and a few kilometres down the road, he stopped in front of a large house, partly hidden by high trees and a small pond at its side. Sandy couldn't stop staring; was this really happening to her? She couldn't quite believe her eyes; this was amazing and looked exactly like the house she always wanted to own one day.
"Wow! So, this is your house?" she asked, amazed that he stayed so relaxed; he was apparently used to people reacting this way when they saw his house.
"Yeah, my job pays off quite well so I could afford something like this. If you would've told me that I'd own such a house a few years ago, I'd probably have laughed at you," he answered, grinning.
"This was actually at the back of my mind for a while, what is your job?" Sandy asked, prepared for an answer she wouldn't like.
"I work as steam locomotive driver and engineer here on the North Western Railway along with my best friends. I drive a red mixed-traffic engine, meaning..." he couldn't continue as Sandy already finished his sentence for him.
"...meaning your locomotive is suited for both passenger service and freight duties, right?" she said triumphantly and smiling at him brightly.
"Yes, that's right! How do you...?" James asked.
"You probably didn't pay attention then before when I told you I'm here for my studies about..." James interrupted her.
"...railways, music and art. I did listen to you, I'm just a bit perplexed that a young lady like you knows so much already," he said, "But now we should try to get out of the car and into the house, the rain has lightened a bit so we better hurry before it starts to become heavy again."
Sandy nodded in agreement and jumped out of the car, running to the back to get her suitcase and laptop bag out and then ran to the front door of the house, waiting for James to lock the car and unlock the front door. He nearly bumped into her when she turned around sharply to look where he was and both of them had to laugh with Sandy blushing slightly.
They looked deeply into each others' eyes for a few seconds before James turned his attention to the keys he was holding. They nearly fell to the ground as a sudden nervousness took over his body. 'My, my- now I must look stupid to her. I don't even know her properly, yet she makes me nervous and all light headed when I'm too close to her,' he thought.
Finally he managed to open the door and let Sandy step into the hall first. She had to close her mouth as it hung open at what she saw. This was even more beautiful than from the outside and she was about to stay a night in such a wonderful house. Every room was painted in a different colour, apart from the open living room with a huge glass window, which was painted in white with dark grey furniture. The kitchen, which was separated from the living room by a small wall with a big opening instead of a door, was held in a light aqua blue with white cupboards.
Sandy had taken off her shoes meanwhile and was now standing on a lovely mint green carpet at the end of the hallway. James came up beside her, carrying her suitcase, and gestured her to follow him so she picked up her laptop bag and handbag before following him up the stairs. He led her into a large bedroom, which was painted in a rosy red with white furniture. The curtains were red with a black and golden border as was the bed linen and there was a big photo of James and, apparently, his engine above the bed.
"Make yourself at home. You may stay as long as you like!" James told her, smiling, "I'll be sleeping downstairs if you need me and before I forget, the bathroom is just across the hall."
"Thank you so much, how can I ever make up for this?" Sandy asked, slightly ashamed that she didn't have any money to pay him for the shelter he provided for her.
"Don't you worry about that, you don't need to do anything. And tomorrow, I can show you around the North Western Railway since you're here for the railways and I got the rest of the week off due to my fireman being ill," James stated, happy that he had something to do at last instead of sitting at home all day long, "Good night!"
"Good night and James... thanks, again!" Sandy answered before James left, closing the door so she could prepare herself for the night.
Back downstairs, he quickly got a blanket and cushion out of the wardrobe in the living room and then undressed to go to sleep on the couch. After Sandy had put on her black night gown, she locked the door and then sank down onto the bed, sighing. Her thoughts were constantly trailing off to James; she couldn't get him out of her mind anymore. She then slowly laid down, pulled the blankets up and fell asleep quickly. That night, both James and Sandy couldn't get the other out of their heads.