THE SPOTLESS RECORD
An adaptation by J. Smith
Based on the original television story by Paul Larson
Occasionally, Duck will come down to help when mixed-traffic duties on the mainline during the summer. But with so many duties to attend to on his own branch line during the holiday season, he cannot always be on hand. His crew discussed the matter with the Fat Controller.
"Duck needs a rest", he said once he had heard their request, "I have a friend who works on the LMS. Maybe he will be able to help us"
The next day he wrote a letter - "I need an engine that is both reliable and capable of handing light and heavy mainline duties", he wrote, "I trust that I will be satisfied with the results"
And indeed he was. The new arrival steamed swiftly through the countryside and arrived at the station before Brendan dockyard a few weeks later. The Fat Controller was waiting for him, along with Thomas and Percy, who had been called from the branch line to greet the guest.
"Here", he said, "Is Arthur. I am pleased to announce that he has been brought to our railway on loan from the LMS to stand in for Duck as a relief pilot on the mainline"
"Pleased to meet you", said Arthur – his voice was soft, yet polite. Thomas and Percy exchanged glances. The new arrival was the biggest tank engine they had ever seen. He had very smart burgundy paint, large pistons and a small funnel. He had an air of peace and warmth about him, with a distant hint of naivety.
"Of course, this arrangement is only temporary", the Fat Controller continued, turning to Arthur, "I doubt highly that we will experience any problems, as your controller says you are one of the most reliable engines he has ever owned"
"Thank you", Arthur blushed modestly, "He says I have a 'spotless record'"
"What's a 'spotless record'", whispered Percy to Thomas.
"It means", muttered Thomas, "That this fellow has never had an accident or made a mess before!" – Percy was impressed, but Thomas had his doubts. The Fat Controller had heard them, so he coughed and continued.
"Thomas and Percy, I would like you both to make Arthur feel welcome", he said to the two smaller engines, "Please show take him the dockyard and teach him 'our ways'"
The two engines agreed to do so, and lead the way to the docks. Arthur followed quietly along behind.
"Is it possible to have a spotless record?", whispered Percy as they came into the yard.
"We'll soon see", chuckled Thomas in response.
They arrived to find the sidings in a terrible mess. Thomas and Percy set to work at once, but they were feeling in a cheeky mood. They bumped the trucks hard and sent them screaming helplessly into one another. They knew that they were being naughty, but they didn't care – they were having too much fun. Arthur watched from a siding.
"Come on Arthur!", called Thomas, "Join in!"
"No thank you", Arthur called back politely.
Later that day, a special shipment of fruit arrived. It was to be taken to a beach market at Tidmouth Hault. Thomas shunted a line of vans into place alongside the dock, ready to be loaded with the important cargo. But the vans were in a troublesome statue of mind. They had had enough of Thomas and Percy bumping them.
"Come along now, no nonsense!", huffed Thomas in a lordly fashion. This made them cross, and they decided to annoy Thomas instead.
"A root-toot-toe! We want to go! The fruit's going off coz' your too slow!"
Arthur had been watching – "How rude!", he remarked in disgust.
"Yes indeed!", Thomas began, "They can be a handful if…" – and then, Thomas had an idea. He knew what the trucks were capable of, and he didn't want to have to put up with their tricks - "Er…would you mind taking these Arthur?", he asked sweetly, "It's just that I have a 'guaranteed connection' later, and I mustn't be late!"
Arthur was delighted to be of service – "Of course", he smiled.
"Remember", Thomas added, "Bump them if they misbehave. It is the only way to discipline trucks!"
Of course, Thomas knew very little about trucks – but Arthur didn't know this. He buffered up behind the vans and once they were loaded, he set off slowly out onto the mainline.
"That was easy", chuckled Thomas, "This should be a lark!" - and he scuttled away to continue shunting.
Sure enough, the trucks began their tricks as they rolled through the countryside.
"Chuff-Chuff-Chug! Ya tug n' puff! But you're so rusty ya can't even puff!"
"Stop singing!", snapped Arthur, "Trucks should do as they're told!", and he gave them a bump. The trucks were deeply offended. They shuttered and jolted over the crossing and whispered to one another.
"Who is he to order us about? We would pay Thomas out for bumping us, but we'll push him about instead - On! On! On!"
Arthur soon found the task more difficult then he expected. The trucks caused all kinds of problems. They sang louder then before, and ignored him every time he told them to stop. They strained their couples and held back on hills. To make matters worse, one of the middle vans began to scream loudly as they approached Gordon's hill. They stopped the train beyond the signal box and the crew went to inspect.
"The axles on the middle van seem to have run hot", said the fireman, "We'll need to put the trouble right before we carry on"
Arthur began to worry – "Oh dear", he thought, "I hope we aren't too late!"
The driver went to speak to the man in charge at the signal box about the delay – "I'll see to right away", he promised and telephoned the next box down the line at once. When all was clear, Arthur set off again much less worried then before and charged at the hill.
Meanwhile, a few yards down on the other side, a goods train had been halted at a crossing. A lorry had swerved out of control and hit the gates causing a jam. A breakdown lorry had been summoned to the rescue, but it was taking a long time. The signalman at the next box after the hill was helping to clear the lorry's spilt cargo from the road when he suddenly remembered the call. He had received it moments before being called out by the rescue team.
"Bless me!", he gasped, "I should have remembered, there's another train coming. It must be stopped before there is an accident"
The guard of the goods train stepped forwards – "I'll go and flag them down", he promised, "There is work to be done here"
So he fetched his red flag from his van and ran back up the line towards the hill with the intent of flagging Arthur down – but he was too late. Arthur came steaming over the top with the trucks swaying in front of him. Their chance for trickery had come – "On! On! On! Faster! Faster!"
Arthur was struggling to hold them back with all the steam and strength he had left. He could feel the vans dragging him forwards as they began the decent – "Stop!", he cried. But his shouts were drowned out by the trucks.
Then they saw the guard. He was waving his flag beside the line and shouting as loud as he could to attract the driver's attention. The driver scrambled for the brake and applied it 'hard-on'. Arthur goggled in shock as his wheels locked and sparks began to fly, but the trucks were pulling with such force that just kept rolling along.
"Glory!", cried the fireman, "Look at that!"
The tail of the waiting goods train came into view. With little time to loose, the crew jumped clear. Arthur couldn't see a thing – "What's happening?", he cried in alarm, "Why are we braking?"
But the front van saw everything – "HORRORS!", it cried…
There was a splitting CRASH. Arthur felt the force of the collision as he ploughed forwards into the wreckage before coming to a final standstill. He didn't dare open his eyes, as he felt something soft and sticky trickle down his boiler. When he did open them, he found himself amongst the debris of broken trucks, splintered wood and squashed fruit. He was speechless.
To make matters worse, he was sitting upon the remains of the brake van, which groaned beneath him. Its brakes have been on, absorbing the force of the crash. Thankfully, the goods engine and its crew were not harmed. It had been forced forwards for a few miles by the impact but had stopped inches from the gate. Any closer and it could have been much worse, but Arthur felt very sad
"Oh dear", he sighed sadly, "Whatever will I do now?"
His spotless record was no longer spotless…
Thomas arrived pale-faced soon after with the Fat Controller on his footplate – "Whatever has happened here?", asked the manager as he stared in misbelieve at the handsome new tank engine, who now sat among a mournful wreckage, his shining burgundy paint now covered in a jam of squashed fruit.
"I'm sorry sir", Arthur began, "The trucks…"
But he was cut off mid sentence – "It was my fault sir"
The Fat Controller and Arthur looked to see that the words had come from Thomas. He was looking very ashamed of himself and was looking gravely down at his buffers. Arthur could only look on in silence.
"What are you saying Thomas?", asked the Fat Controller, "Arthur's crew tell me it is was the trucks…."
"But sir", Thomas spluttered, "I knew that the trucks would play their tricks in the first place. I was the one who bumped them and made them cross. I was the one who asked Arthur to take them instead of me…" – he trailed off.
The Fat Controller shook his head - "I might have known it", he muttered to himself, "Especially after news of a supposed 'guaranteed connection' met my ears. You've played one too many tricks today Thomas. You shall help to clear this mess" – Thomas knew he deserved his punishment, but the sight of Arthur looking so sad stung him with guilt. Neither spoke as Harvey arrived and helped to clear the mess. Thomas left with the unhurt trucks before he could be forced into helping Arthur home too – he had a lot to think about before they next meet.
That evening, Arthur stood at the wash-down having the squashed fruit cleaned from his bodywork. His front end had only received minor battering, but all the same, he felt unfit to be seen. Thomas rolled into the yard, and once he had taken a deep intake of air, he came up alongside.
"I'm terribly sorry about your accident Arthur", he said, "I should have known. I didn't mean to get you into trouble. Please forgive me"
Arthur looked away. He wanted to say something, but something within him prevented him from doing so.
"I understand, you have every right not to", Thomas went on feeling terribly uncomfortable, "But why not look on at it on the bright side? Maybe spotless records are meant to be broken…"
"You don't understand", Arthur cut in with tears welling up in his eyes, "You don't understand at all. My clear record of reliably is what held my previous owners company up, because my brothers were all built to a poor design! Had it not been for me, my brothers and I would probably have been scrapped. I didn't want to see my master sad. When I left after the company closed at last, I promised myself that I would keep my record spotless from then on. I thought that by coming here I would be appreciated for what I've done, but it seems I was wrong"
Tears were now cascading down his face and splashing onto his buffer beam. The men cleaning him stood aside in respectful silence and looked away awkwardly as Thomas looked at the large tank engine in a mixture of shock and pity. At last he pulled himself together.
"Erm…well, just so that you know, erm…I didn't mean for you to be upset", Thomas spluttered, "I just hope you understand. I must go now and collect my…erm…" - and he scuttled away feeling very silly indeed. Arthur didn't say another word as the men returned to their scrubbing.