The Sudrian Saboteur
Chapter 2: Helping where needed
Ryan the purple tank engine arrived with the breakdown cranes, Jerome and Judy.
"Easy there, Douglas," Judy said in a soothing voice.
"We've got you," Jerome added as they lowered Douglas onto a flatbed, then set to work retrieving his tender.
Duck had been cleared through to allow the cranes the space to work, and wasn't looking forward to telling his fellow Little Western engines the sad news.
Daisy had also come down to take the unhurt trucks up to their destination. Realizing how serious the situation was, she took the trucks without complaint, remaining respectfully silent as she purred away, but promised to take the cranes back when the job was done.
Once Douglas' tender was placed on a flatbed, Ryan volunteered to take him to the works, to which the Fat Controller agreed.
"Don't you worry, Douglas," Ryan consoled, I'll get you to the Steamworks in a jiffy, and they'll fix you right up!"
Douglas could only sigh as the purple Gresley tank engine puffed away.
Meanwhile, police were talking to the signalman, who had since been rescued.
"So, there I was in my signal box, minding me own business, when, all of a sudden, I get clonked on the head, and everything goes black. Next thing I know, I'm tied up in my chair with a rag tied around me mouth!"
"So you didn't get a good look at your attacker, then?" The officer asked.
"'Course not! Whoever this was, they snuck up behind me! And he was gone by the time I came to."
"Hmm. I see," the officer muttered.
"Is there anything else I can do, constable?" The signalman asked.
"No, that'll be all, sir. Thank you."
He turned to the Fat Controller.
"Contact is if you find anything suspicious, Sir Topham. We'll catch whoever did this."
"I hope so," the Fat Controller sighed, and walked out to his car. He had arrangements to make.
When he arrived at Knapford, he walked into his office and began looking through bookings for the engines in his fleet. An engine would be needed to fill in for Douglas while he was being repaired.
"Hmm. Perhaps Henry...no. He's needed on the main line. Neville...no. Kirk Ronan needs its heavy goods engine. What about...yes, he'll do well as long as his teething troubles don't occur too much."
He wrote something down on his clipboard, made two quick calls on his telephone, walked out of his office, and climbed back into his car, driving back toward the Little Western.
Later that night, Duck, Donald, Rachel and Oliver were in their shed.
"Ah cannae believe it! Wha would somebody dae sich a thin'?!"
"Can we be certain this was a person? It could just as well have been faulty points," Rachel suggested.
"Ye heard whit th' polis said! They found th' bludy signalman boond and gagged in his signal box!" Donald snapped.
"So someone really DID do this on purpose," Oliver said with growing concern. Donald would have made a rude remark about stating the obvious, but the Auto Tank continued on.
"Whoever did this deliberately caused a large derailment, most likely without a second's pause. Who's to say they won't try again?" Oliver asked to no one in particular.
The four engines were silent. Duck was the one who finally spoke first.
"That's...quite alarming." The Pannier Tank spoke barely above a whisper.
"Aye," Donald agreed.
Just then, a bright blue car parked nearby.
"I think we should stop talking," Rachel put in, "that could be the Fat Controller."
And indeed it was. The Fat Controller stepped out of his car and walked over to the shed.
"Sirr? Is...is Dougie gonnae be okay?" Donald almost seemed afraid to ask.
"Yes, Donald," the Fat Controller assured the Caledonian, "I telephoned the Steamworks before coming here, and they confirmed that Douglas will indeed make a full recovery."
The Fat Controller seemed to know what Donald was going to say after that, as he continued quite promptly.
"You will have a chance to see him while he's being repaired, as will Lily, but I expect you to focus on your work until then. Am I clear, Donald?"
"Aye, Sirr. Thank ye, Sirr," Donald sighed, relieved to know his twin was safe.
"That brings me to the other reason why I'm here. While Douglas is being repaired, another engine is needed to fill in for him. To that end, I've relocated one of the utility engines here. You may or may not already know him. He is a diesel by the name of Derek."
"The chap with teething troubles, Sir?" Duck asked.
"Yes, Duck," the Fat Controller answered, "Since his last overhaul, Derek's teething troubles have been much less frequent of a problem, and there aren't any steep hills on this branch line, so he should perform quite well. He'll arrive at Knapford tomorrow morning. Rachel, you'll double-head the first goods train to Arlesburgh with him and give him a tour of the branch line."
"Can do, Sir!" The Collette grinned.
Duck, Donald and Oliver agreed with this choice. Rachel could be rather forgetful in most regards, but her knowledge of the Little Western was encyclopedic. The Fat Controller made one last statement.
"Now, I want you all to treat him fairly and make him feel welcome here."
"Yes, Sir," Duck said.
"Yes, Sir," Oliver concurred.
"Yes, Sir!" Rachel smiled.
"Aye, Sirr," Donald said flatly.
"Excellent. Now, off to sleep, engines. There's a lot of work to do tomorrow," the Fat Controller smiled. He then tipped his hat, walked back to his car and drove home.
"That diesel better nae cause onie trooble," Donald muttered.
"From what Bill and Ben told me, he's actually quite friendly," Duck offered.
"Oh, a friendly diesel's always nice," Rachel smiled.
"Not wrong, there," Oliver agreed with a yawn, "Now, I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm planning on getting some kip."
The Auto Tank bade a good night's rest to his fellow Little Western engines, then closed his eyes and slept. Rachel didn't even have a chance to yawn, and instantly nodded off. Duck joined them in the land of nod not long after, but Donald had difficulty falling asleep. He knew that Douglas would be alright in the end, but just being told couldn't sweep away the lingering doubt.
All the same, the events of the day caught up with Donald, and fatigue soon pulled him into sleep.
The next morning, Rachel sat on in the small yard next to Knapford station, trying to remember what the Fat Controller had told her to wait for.
Colin, who was shunting the trucks for her goods train to Arlesburgh, noticed her thoughtful expression and decided to investigate.
"Hello, Rachel. Something wrong?" The maroon Peckett asked.
"Oh, hi, Colin," Rachel said, "The Fat Controller told me to take this goods train to Arlesburgh, but I can't remember the something he told me to wait for."
"Maybe he wants a ride up the Little Western on your train?" Colin suggested.
Reginald the Patriot Locomotive, who was waiting at the platform with the "Dublin Steward," had overheard their conversation and rolled his eyes. He had known Colin since their LMS days, and the Peckett shunter had never been the intelligent sort. Just then, a horn sounded out and a large green diesel with a centre cab rumbled through the station and onto the Little Western line.
Reginald, mildly surprised, had no time to ask any questions, as his signal turned green. With a blow of his whistle and a woosh of steam, Reginald set off down the main line. The diesel smiled at Rachel and Colin.
"Hello. I'm Derek. I was told to find an engine called Rachel?" The diesel spoke with a noticeable lisp.
"That's me," Rachel answered, somewhat confused.
"And I'm Colin, Knapford's station pilot!"
"Nice to meet you both," Derek said warmly.
Just then, Rachel's crew walked down the platform, having just finished breakfast.
"Ah! You must be Derek!" Her driver smiled, "You're to double-head a goods train with us."
"Oh! You're the something I was supposed to wait for!" Rachel exclaimed.
"Do forgive her, she can be rather...forgetful," Rachel's driver explained tenderly.
"Oh, that's quite alright," Derek smiled, "Nobody's perfect. Take my speech impediment, for example."
"And everyone always calls me a simpleton, whatever that means, but I proved them!" Colin added, unaware of the meaning of his turn of phrase, as he chuffed off to assist Phillip, his fellow station pilot, with organizing the coaches.
"Aw, thank you," Rachel smiled. She could already tell that she was going to like this diesel.
Derek's eyes drifted to the line of trucks that Colin had shunted.
"Is that our train?" He asked.
"Yep! I'll take the train and you lead. That way, you'll learn the line that much more quickly!"
"Are you sure?" Derek asked.
"Positive. I know the Little Western like the back of my buffers!" Rachel beamed as she switched tracks and backed down onto the train.
Derek followed suit and buffered up in front of Rachel. It wasn't long before the signal turned green and Derek and Rachel were off.
"Okay, Derek, this here's Carlden," Rachel stated, beginning Derek's tour of the Little Western, "Just beyond the town, there's a lumber yard and sawmill that we service. You might get a chance to see it."
"I see," Derek observed, taking note of the single track that split off from the main two and led into a heavily wooded area.
Soon, the two tracks became three, with the cavalcade running along the central track. Rachel knew what this meant, and began the next part of the tour.
"That there's Tidmouth," she said as they rumbled through the station, "You could kind of call it the transportation hub for the entire Little Western."
"How so?" Derek asked curiously.
"Well, every passenger service on this line makes a stop here, so it's our main interchanging point. Plus, lots of buses and cabs come here, as well," Rachel elaborated, "more than any other station on this branch line, in fact. There's also a dairy in the town limits that we service."
"You're right. You do know the Little Western like the back of your buffers!" Derek was quite impressed.
"We ain't finished yet," Rachel smiled as they rumbled through the countryside, "You see that junction there?"
"Yes. Is it important?"
"Very. It leads to Knapford Harbour. We make regular fish deliveries there."
The two engines neared the single-track tunnel.
"On the other side of this tunnel is Tidmouth Hault," Rachel stated as they trundled through and emerged from the other side at the Hault.
"And here it is," the Collette continued, "It's a seaside station, so I don't usually stop here."
"Why's that?" Derek asked as they continued on down a slight gradient.
"I don't pull passenger trains. I'm a Goods engine," she explained, "but it does have a yard, so I sometimes depart from it. It's also where our shed is located. I'll introduce you to the others tonight."
"Thank you, Rachel," Derek smiled.
"Ooh! The costal run starts here!" she exclaimed, "you're gonna love this!"
The two green engines entered the costal section and Derek was stunned by the scenery.
"Here's the first stop on the seaside line, Haultraugh!"
"This is beautiful!"
"Yeah! Just like the Hault, I don't usually stop here, but the scenery is breathtaking!" Rachel beamed.
Derek was amazed by the beauty of the Little Western, having worked in and around industrial areas all his life.
"This is...Bluff's Cove," Rachel stated in a noticeably more downcast tone.
"Do you have unpleasant history here?" Derek asked.
"Not me specifically. Douglas had his accident here," Rachel somberly explained.
"Oh, I'm terribly sorry," Derek said meekly.
"You're not to blame, Derek," Rachel sighed, "Now come on, there's still one more stop; Arlesburgh."
The journey continued on in silence until they reached the town in question and Derek was greeted by a most surprising sight. There were three tiny engines bustling about nearby! When he asked about this, Rachel laughed.
"They're Mike, Rex and Bert," she explained as they pulled into the goods yard, "they bring in ballast from up in the hills, and we bring them tourists! There's also a harbour nearby where we collect fish from."
"Ah. I see you lot are kept busy," Derek observed.
"We are!" Rachel agreed as she and Derek were uncoupled from their train, "Speaking of busy, I'm sure you'll be thrown right into the thick of it, but don't be ashamed to ask for a rest if the work gets to you, yeah?"
"Thank you, Rachel! I will," Derek called as Rachel chuffed off toward the harbour.
It wasn't long before Derek was indeed thrown right into hard work. All day long, the Clayton diesel bustled up and down the Little Western, hauling ballast trains, fish trains and supply trains. There was one close call when he had to stop at Haultraugh when the glaring summer heat added to the strain all the work was already putting on his cooling system, but he recovered soon enough.
Duck and Oliver were quickly won over when the diesel offered to help push behind a particularly heavy load of ballast that Oliver had been rostered to take. Even Donald was impressed when he saw just how much respect Derek had for steam engines, particularly when he stated that diesels had a lot they could learn from their steam-powered predecessors.
That night, when the Little Western engines went to sleep, they welcomed Derek as an honorary member of their "motley crew," as Donald put it.