Feeling Blue

There were already passengers waiting when Edward arrived. As he came to a stop, the doors of his carriages banging open, the old engine saw that a handful of people were waiting for Henry and his midday service. However, as his passengers filed past and clambered up the footbridge, one group in particular caught his eye. There were five girls, teenagers, he assumed, milling about on the edge of the platform, just centimetres away from falling to the Main Line.

Is it a school day? Edward thought as he stared at the group. I think I saw people in uniform this morning, but maybe there are on a trip? Is it even the school term? Are they even school students? He had once been so good at this: over the years, Edward had developed the ability to stare at a group of passengers and tell who they were and where they were going on any given day. Harassed mothers compared to confident businessmen, timid elderly versus rebellious youth, Edward could identify them all and know exactly why they were catching his train.

Now, the older he got, the more time seemed to pass him by. Looking at the young girls, they were nothing like what Edward had known a few decades ago. When he had been young, women would have been covered nearly head to toe in fabric – these girls seemed to be wearing as little as possible. Edward could see they had mobile phones clutched in their hands, but everyone seemed to have those these days. They had erected a large tower in the middle of the yard that lay between the station and the bridge, and his driver at the time explained it was to help with 'reception', but to Edward it was just a large white stick that loomed over him as he shunted.

"Is that engine staring at us?" The judgemental cry sounded across the empty rails. As multiple eyes flickered towards him, Edward embarrassedly looked away, but not before the speaker, a petite blonde girl, spoke up again. "I swear that engine was staring at us."

"Oh my god, its totes creepy how they do that, just, like, watching you."

"Isn't that, like, the really old one – Ted, Ed, something, I don't know…"

"Um, do I look like I give a damn? I'm not five; I don't care what the engines are called, as long as they don't BLOODY STARE AT ME!"

A whistle sounded above the shrill shout. Thank goodness, Edward thought, feeling safe to look up as Henry rolled smoothly into the station, blocking the girls from his view. That was the other thing Edward had noticed: everyone was much more confrontational these days, unashamed to speak their minds. There was none of the old admiration for engines, not when there were more impressive, modern pieces of technology. He wasn't sure if it was his age or the world changing around him, but the old engine didn't like it one bit.

"Hello Edward, don't see you doing this run much these days. I thought they kept you tied up arranging the trucks." Henry sounded puffed and agitated, as though the sudden stop was interrupting his day. "Cole busy?"

"He is, and hello to you too," Edward replied, rolling his eyes at the green engine's jab. "How did you find the centenary event yesterday?"

"Oh, a bit tiresome, wasn't it? I hope we won't have to sit through more of those. Though of course I wasn't there at the start, was I, old boy? Must make you feel your age, one hundred years hanging around here!" The shrill ring of the guard's whistle cut off any further conversation. "I guess that's me – see you around!"

Henry roared away under the bridge, leaving Edward alone with his words. He knew the green engine wouldn't have meant it, but there was a cruel sting to his jokes. Edward hadn't given it much thought before, but the main passenger trains had been taken over solely by Cole or sometimes an engine from the Main Line. He was stuck tending to shunting for the most part, preparing trains for the other engines and taking only the occasional passenger train as far as Wellsworth. He couldn't even remember the last time he had done the evening run from Tidmouth.

One hundred years… that really is a long time, isn't it? Edward had been wiser than his years when he first arrived on Sodor, but that was so long ago that many of his memories of building the line had long faded. But no matter how old he got, Edward had never imagined a time when his age would stop him work working.

"Ah, Edward, you're still here!" Suddenly, the stationmaster was at his buffers, a broad smile on his face. Edward smiled back and went to say Hello, but froze at the last second, uncertain what the grinning man's name was. "I only got the call a short time ago, but apparently the new diesel is going to be arriving here soon. In all the chaos of the party yesterday they forgot to inform us earlier."

"What new diesel?" We don't need another engine, do we? Unless…

"Her name is… Delphine," the stationmaster answered, consulting his notebook. "Just here to help out, I'm not sure if working on your line is permanent or anything but I guess you'll find out whenever I do!" He laughed and began to walk away, just as James' whistle sounded from the other side of the bridge. "Show her around, make her feel at home at any rate – I'm sure you've done this plenty of times!"

Haven't I just. Edward wasn't sure how to feel. Only a few minutes ago, he had been happy and relaxed, pleased to be out and enjoying his branch line. Now, as he stared across the empty yard, the cell phone tower an ugly blemish on any otherwise unchanged landscape, Edward realised just how old he had become, and wondered how many runs were left in him before his time was up.

"Looks like it's time for me to go." Though she had been preparing to leave all day, Delphine still felt a pang of sadness as she eyed her crew making their way towards her. She looked at Culdee, still resting on his flatbed, and sighed. "It's been lovely to meet you, I truly hope I can see you again someday."

"I hope so too," Culdee replied, smiling kindly. Delphine smiled back, holding back the doubts she knew they both shared: with him on his mountain railway with the electric line between them, the chances of meeting again were slim. Just my luck: I make two friends on my first day, one who's disappeared and one whom I'll never see again.

Without anyone by her side, Delphine rolled out of Crovan's Gate a few minutes later one giant bundle of nerves. Everywhere she'd go today and everyone she'd meet would be brand new to her: two tender engines roared past, one red and one orange, and she didn't know who either of them were. She was excited, she was ready for this, but the diesel just had no idea where to start.

To say Delphine needed a fresh start was an understatement. Her journey was strangely tragic when she thought about it. She had started life as a replacement for steam engines, one of the first diesel classes to be sold as a proper alternative. Yet her professional life had been short-lived, as she and her brothers and sisters found themselves on the receiving end of the same axe that had seen them be created in the first place. They enjoyed barely twenty years of service before they started to get phased out, and as quickly as their work had begun, Delphine and her siblings had found themselves fearing the scrap heap.

Being preserved had been a relief, but it was not an easy road. Ever since she had been withdrawn from main service, Delphine had been bounced around between various preservation groups. Mostly she did work for private contractors, none of which lasted very long. She had spent the last few years on a heritage line doing passenger trips on weekends and occasionally special charters, but while pleasant, it had lacked the excitement of working every day, nor the joy of meeting new people and having new experiences.

Coming to Sodor was a relief. Delphine could remember how distraught she'd felt when her owner told her they didn't have the traffic to justify keeping her, fearful as she always was that this may be her end. When he revealed she was heading for Sodor, Delphine couldn't think of a word to describe how she had felt. She knew about Sodor – everyone did, it was the dream to go there, and even being here now Delphine didn't think it was real.

But dreams can end, can't they? Delphine watched as a train of coal trucks hurtled past, a large maroon tank engine heaving them at the front. Everything ran so efficiently here, it was so organised. It was like going back in time to when rail was at its prime; Delphine couldn't remember the last time she had had to follow such a strict schedule. Slip up and there would be no place for her, not when there were countless other engines that would jump at the chance to join this exclusive club. What if I stuff up straight away? What if I have an accident, or go careering down the wrong track again, end up lost in a siding somewhere where no one will ever find me…

In her state, Delphine didn't realise a diesel had pulled up beside her, and jumped as a deep booming voice emerged seemingly out of nowhere. "You might want to move out of the way there, love, your rather blocking the entrance."

"Oh, sorry, my bad!" The apology stumbled out of Delphine's mouth, and she quickly rolled further into the yard. The diesel followed her out, eyeing her curiously.

"It's Delphine, yeah?"

"No – wait, yes, I don't know why I said that… umm, and you are…?"

The kindly diesel laughed. "I'm Wilson. I work for the works, if you pardon the pun; if you break down or fall off the tracks, me and Rocky here will sort you out."

"I might be seeing a lot of you then," Delphine said, laughing nervously. Wilson raised an eyebrow, and before she could stop herself, Delphine let the floodgates open. "Well, I'm really clumsy, and I am always causing accidents, that's why I was one of the first of my class to be retired from main service cause I was just always in trouble. And now I'm here and I don't want to be sent home but I am so nervous I'll stuff up and when I get nervous that's when I tend to stuff up…"

Delphine trailed off as a smile spread across Wilson's face. She felt hurt for a moment, but then she saw the funny side and she too began to chuckle. "I sound ridiculous, don't I?"

"No, no, first day nerves are understandable! But you must know the Fat Controller is a kind man; he doesn't get rid of engines for one simple mistake. You have nothing to fear, my dear, except perhaps fear itself. From all my years cleaning up accidents, one thing I've learnt is that if you expect things to go wrong, they generally will. Just relax, learn our ways, see where that takes you, and you should be fine."

A voice sounded from his cab, and Wilson gave a friendly toot as he took off. "Must go, upturned trucks won't right themselves."

"Do you tend to accidents often? I heard Sodor engines are always crashing."

"Not always, darling, but those stories are just the ones we like to tell!" With a booming laugh, Wilson and Rocky roared out of the yard. Delphine watched them leave with a smile on her face, and once the track was clear, she followed after, ready to take on the island.

As the day slipped into night, Edward's mood didn't improve: instead, his confusion turned into a quiet bitterness. His driver mistook his mood for tiredness and held him back from the final passenger train, leaving him to shunt trucks while Cole travelled back to Wellsworth.

"Let's get these last few trucks in order and then I think it's the sheds with you."

To rot? Edward was tempted to say it, but knew blaming his driver would do no good. He only thought he was being kind; any other day, Edward might have appreciated it, but now it simply felt patronising, fussing over the foolish old engine. Still, he remained silent as he sorted trucks into place and prepared fruit trucks to be unloaded when the ship came in later that night.

How soon before I have to stay in that shed permanently? As he banged two trucks together, Edward thought of Duke and how he had been left in a shed to be claimed by nature. Is that the fate that awaits me, once I become too old and useless? It nearly happened once, there's nothing to stop it happening again.

It had been decades since those torturous years he'd been left like scrap metal in the back of Tidmouth Sheds. Edward tried not to think about it, not when it had been so long, but occasionally, in quieter moments, his mind went back to those years. After all the hours he had put in helping make the railway operational, it had felt like the ultimate betrayal for them to turn around and lock him away, replacing him with newer, flashier engines. In his mind, Edward couldn't even place how it had happened: one day, he had been building railways, the next; he was shivering in the back of the shed.

Nearly one hundred years on, Edward couldn't remember how long he had spent in there – weeks, months, years, it had been long enough. It was the cold he remembered the most. He had felt his wheels rusting, he had seen cobwebs form over his buffers, but Edward remembered the cold more than anything. His fire never getting lit, the only warmth coming from the sun or the steam of the other engines, left to sit in his berth at the end of the row and freeze.

Finally he was let out again, out of pity, Edward remembered, rather than a feeling he would be of much use. It was only once Henry kicked up a fuss about paint that Edward was given regular work, and it had been the most rewarding period of his life.

Afterwards, they had offered him the chance to run his own branch line. It was supposedly to thank him for helping with the Henry-Gordon-tunnel incident, but Edward had soon learnt the real reason. The other tender engines they'd got to help out had proved troublesome, abusive and rude to the other engines. They'd been banished in disgrace, and it had been so long that Edward couldn't even remember their names – one had been red, similar to James, the others blue but with a cruelty that made Gordon look tame by comparison. Without them, a major port line was left unattended, the infrastructure too weak to carry Henry and Gordon thanks to the rush to complete the railway on time. Despite the sourness of the offer, Edward had accepted, proud to have the option to stretch his wheels and prove he wasn't just some silly old engine.

If it wasn't for Henry's hissy fit and some bad construction, would I still be in that shed, or would I have been scrapped before James had even arrived?

Edward loved his life; the past decades had been smooth sailing with only the odd wave disturbing his flow. His age had never gotten in the way once the Fat Controller had seen what he could do, and once the railway started to grow and grow, his expertise had been invaluable, something no human would ever be able to offer. But how long would he remain of value? In a few weeks it would be one hundred years since he had helped finish this railway, one hundred years since he had first been put in a shed and made to wait for a rainy day. If he had been considered a spare part back then, what was he now that the railway had more engines than it knew what to do with?

A set of lights appeared down the line, and Edward smiled, relieved that soon Cole would be beside him and he'd have someone to talk to, to distract him from the questions rattling around his funnel. But it was a horn that cut through the night instead of a whistle, and Edward was confused once more. Who could that be?

It was only once the horn's owner was a few metres away and under the dock lights that Edward remembered the new engine. The maroon paintwork confirmed it, and Edward had to rearrange his features into something welcoming as the diesel came to a stop.

"Um, hello there." The soft, feminine voice seemed out of place amongst the sweaty workers and towering cranes, and there was nervousness in her tone. Any other day, Edward would have been more than willing to show her around, but after the day he had had, a new engine was the last thing he needed.

You can't take things out on her, she's new, it's not her fault,. Keeping the pretence up, the old engine flashed a smile. "Hello there, my name is Edward."

"Oh, hello! I've heard so much about you – well, a bit, not that much, you know, only been here, what, a day! Oh, my name, yes – I'm Delphine! I am so excited to get straight into work!"

"Nice to meet you. I'm afraid you will have to wait until morning to really get started, it's a bit too dark to show you around."

"Yes, the stationmaster explained that. Sorry I'm late, there was some sort of accident, nothing big, only a few trucks had derailed and –"

"It's fine. Why don't you let me finish up here and then I'll show you to the shed?" Delphine gave a tiny nod and awkwardly reversed out of Edward's way. The blue engine waited till she was out of sight before sighing and returning to his trucks. It was tiring at times, always having to smile, be the mediator, never being allowed to show his true feelings. Maybe if Edward hadn't been so obliging all those years ago, they never would have put him in the shed in the first place…

"Maroon, eh? My driver always told me never to trust a marooooon engine."

"Leave off," Cole grumbled, shooting the twins a withering look.

"I'm just saying's all, that's what driver told me."

"Didn't your driver ever tell you to be nice to new guests?"

An exaggerated pause, and then: "One of them probably did at some point, but I guess I've just forgotten that one."

Cole rolled his eyes before smiling kindly at Delphine. "Ignore them, they are always like this." Delphine knew the type and simply giggled: there was always one joker on a railway, and being teased simply made her feel welcome. It was better than being ignored.

"You don't have to put up with this every night though, right?"

"Goodness no! They only sleep here if they have to take trucks up first thing, which thankfully isn't very often." Reassured, Delphine found it easier to take the jibes from the troublesome twins at the end of the shed, laughing at Cole's jokes while her mind drifted off.

It had been dark when she finally set off down the branch line, having been held up by the very accident Wilson had left to tend to. After meeting the stationmaster and seeing the small yard, the cell phone tower a bizarre surprise, Delphine rolled down the sunset-lit line, admiring the way the trees and the ocean looked in the last light of day. It was a beautiful stretch of track, blending farmland, suburbs and the ocean all in one view, and all her fears had subsided.

That was until she reached the harbour. It wasn't as big as the ports she knew from the Mainland, but it had a rustic charm that was made Delphine feel nice and cosy. But the cosiness disappeared after she met Edward. Culdee, when telling her about the various engines, had described Edward as courteous, knowledgeable and warm. He had warned that most of his interactions were many years old and could have been out of date, and Delphine felt that Edward must be one of them.

It wasn't that he had been rude or anything, Delphine simply had the impression that the tender engine was a bit… distant. He hadn't seemed very excited to meet her, and came across tired and bored as he described the harbour. As Ben started telling a long joke, Delphine turned to Edward. He was still awake, but his eyes were focused on a dirty window, silently watching the night while the others joked around him.

He is old, remember, Delphine told herself. He might just be tired, poor thing. I mean, he couldn't have possibly taken an instant disliking to you, could he? That would be ridiculous… unless he had heard things…

"This might sound strange, but did you know anything about me before I arrived?" Delphine stared at Edward, leaving the question hanging between them, but a few minutes passed before he realised her watching him.

"I'm sorry, did you say something?" He showed her a smile, but Delphine could see it was one that didn't reach his eyes.

"Never mind, it was nothing." Edward's eyes seemed to have glazed over and he gave a tiny nod before turning away. Delphine wasn't sure how to respond, but she decided to remain silent, not wanting to risk anything on her first night.

"She's ignoring us, Bill!"

"She is indeed, Ben, how rude!"

"I'm sorry, boys, I just couldn't hear you over how loud your paint is." Delphine flashed a wicked smile as the twins gasped and Cole roared with laughter. She felt her mood lift as another string of gentle ribbing started afresh, and she soon forgot about Edward as he remained silent while they carried on into the night.

This isn't what I imagined, but maybe once work starts, everything will set itself right, Delphine thought to herself, and with that in mind, she was able to rest easy once she had finally bested the twins.

The accident happened quickly.

One moment, Edward and Delphine were arranging trucks, separating them so they could be taken to different sides of the island for other uses. The next, there was a horrible crunching sound that echoed across the harbour, and men was rushing towards the back of Delphine's train.

Edward sighed as he too came to a stop. They had only been on the job for half an hour, but already the work day had ground to a halt. He couldn't see much of the accident, but it was clear Delphine had pushed her trucks too hard into the buffers.

"I'm so, so, so sorry Edward!" The diesel definitely looked apologetic, but no amount of repentance would solve this quickly. Edward had to avoid looking her in the eyes: he had hoped his worries would pass with a goods night sleep, but the accident only fuelled his flames.

"Its fine, just help get it sorted: bring around some extra trucks as replacement and a spare one so they can load the wreckage into it." Delphine timidly nodded, but before she could be uncoupled the stationmaster appeared before them.

"Cole was meant to collect Trevor and take him back to Wellsworth after his morning run but he's had to help Arthur get up Gordon's Hill. Delphine, can you go –"

"I'll do it," Edward interrupted. "She needs to sort out this mess." The stationmaster was taken aback by the forcefulness of Edward's words, but she nodded and left to make the arrangements. Edward avoided Delphine's eyes once more as he was uncoupled, but from the corner of his eyes he could see her eyes were watering. The old engine held back a sigh, pained to see the effect of his words, but he left without saying anything.

I'm sorry, but I'm not going to be turned into scrap so someone who can't even shunt properly can take my place, he thought as he left the harbour. I've had to fight to prove myself since the moment I left that shed, I am not giving up now.

Edward thundered down his branch line. It had been a long time since he had gone with such intensity, and he felt every judder and bump as they reverberated through his tired frame. Yet the discomfort made for a helpful distraction: finally, Edward had something else to focus on that wasn't his age, that wasn't his past or future. For the time being, this was still his branch line, and Edward was going to enjoy the scenery for as long as he was allowed.

He reached the vicarage orchard in record time. His wheels and side rods ached more than they should, and Edward felt out of puff and he rolled into a siding alongside the orchard. Trevor had already been loaded and was waiting with a broad smile.

"Hello Edward, I wasn't expecting to see you so soon!"

"I know... I didn't want… to leave you… waiting," Edward wheezed as he buffered up to the truck.

"You don't sound very good. Is everything alright?" Trevor asked.

"I'm fine, I swear… just a bit puffed is all." Trevor didn't pry further, and once they were coupled up Edward took off without another word. The traction engine explained how he had cracked his flywheel after rolling down a hill and how Crovan's Gate was going to repair it, and Edward enjoyed the distraction of his words.

"Slow down, Edward!" Trevor cried after he had finished his story. The vicarage was not far from the station, and they were currently on time, but Edward was roaring down the line. "You aren't competing against anyone!"

Not that you know of, Edward thought, but the bitter thought made him sigh. "I'm getting old, Trevor."

"Aren't we all?"

"I'm being serious." The words hung heavily in the air for a moment before Edward continued. "The world is changing and I don't know if there is a place for me in it."

"Rubbish!" Trevor scoffed. "That's what I thought all those years ago when I was dumped in the scrapyard, but look at me now. If I can survive all these years, I don't think there is any getting rid of you."

"We are in two different lines of work though. The vicar doesn't need another traction engine, not when you are around – and I doubt they'll replace you after you saved everyone from disaster with that bridge collapse. But there are so many engines on the island now, and it'll take one major incident for the Fat Controller to decide I'm not worth replacing. Times are different now, and I am just a relic barely keeping myself together."

The station soon came into view. Edward sounded his whistle to let them know he was approaching. He looked to the left at the houses that had seemingly sprung up overnight: after years of knowing only fields and forests, the number of houses lining the tracks was quickly growing. Edward could remember when Wellsworth had been home to a few hundred, mostly workmen serving the line and their families. Now there were several thousand pushing against the town's borders, and there was a rush to keep up with demand.

"I am not afraid of change, I'm not, even though BoCo leaving threw me a bit, but that was more about losing a friend. I never felt… worthless, I guess, during that time. I don't feel very worthless now though, I suppose, just unwanted."

"Who doesn't want you? Has someone said something?"

"Well, not in proper words, but I can see the way the other engines look at me now. One hundred years I have been on this railway: I wasn't wanted when we first opened, so what's stopping the Fat Controller now that he has other options and doesn't have to rely on the old blue engine at the end of the shed?"

Shocked by his friends words, Trevor went to reply, hoping to comfort his companion. But before he could, Edward realised they were nearly upon the station yet he was still racing along.

"We need to stop."

"I am aware of that, but your brakes have stuck!" His driver yelled back. Edward felt his fire flicker, and he looked ahead to the open yard: a number of trucks were waiting there for Bear and his slow goods train, as well as the coaches Cole had left behind. If he couldn't stop, it was either hit those or be let loose on the Main Line where a worse fate awaited. If I have a serious crash at this speed I will be done for…

Screams sounded from the station as Edward soared past the platform and careened into the yard. Workers scattered, and people gazing from their houses near the station rushed backwards as the sight of the runaway engine. Nearby trucks squealed in fear, and for a moment Edward thought he would hit one, but the points were changed, and he swerved violently into a siding. Momentary relief turned back to fear as Edward saw what awaited him on the other side of the buffers. There was a jolt as his brakes were finally applied, but though his wheels screeched horribly, there was no chance of stopping what came next.

The crunch of the buffers breaking was followed by a thud as Edward slammed into the cell phone tower. The sound echoed across a suddenly silent yard. Edward slowly opened his eyes and found himself staring at the base of the tower. Slowly he looked down, bracing himself for the twisted state of his buffers. The sight shocked him, but something else caught his eye: he wasn't sure if it he was real or he was imaging, but to Edward, it appeared the tower was moving…

"CLEAR THE YARD!" The yell echoed as Bear's horn sounded in the distance, but it was too late. With a metallic creak, the tower toppled away from Edward, jagged metal scraping his front. There was a groaning thud, a deathly crack, a carrying gasp from all sides followed by the simple hum of a diesel engine slowing to nothing. Edward couldn't bear to watch what had happened, and simply sat there silently, waiting for help to come like the useless engine that he was.

Wilson and Rocky arrived promptly. Though Trevor had rolled forwards and slammed into Edward's tender, the traction engine was unharmed and Delphine shunted him away so Bear could leave with the undamaged trucks. The cell phone tower had considerately landed so that the Main Line was not blocked, which meant that all the other engines could pass and look at Edward's mistake.

The blue engine felt only shame. Not only did he have Delphine to contend with, who rolled past without comment as she brought flatbeds for the tower, but the Fat Controller had arrived to examine the situation. He had not yet spoken to Edward, but he could see his owner standing only a few metres away, watching as Rocky lifted the shattered tower into place.

Edward simply sat in silence, trying to hold back his tear. There can't be any coming back from this. Why bother repairing a foolish, useless thing like me? There was little else to say, and when the Fat Controller finally approached him, Edward shut his eyes and waited for the inevitable.

"Well, well, well… You must imagine how bothersome this is, Edward. This was bound to happen eventually, I'm just sorry it had to happen to you." Edward opened his eyes and looked down: the Fat Controller looked annoyed, but he was staring at the tower rather than the blue engine.

"I never wanted this tower here, but the council said there was no other place for it, and Mrs MacMillan stirred up the locals to make sure it didn't go near the town. With a sturdier set of buffers it could have lasted, but I had no idea how subpar the instalment of it was – why, a strong gust of wind could have toppled this!" Muttering under his breath, the controller gazed angrily at the destroyed tower for a few moments before turning back to Edward. "Are you alright, Edward, you have the oddest look on your face."

"I… I am just… so I'm not in trouble?"

"Goodness no, I can't punish you for your brakes sticking. If the tower hadn't been here there wouldn't have been any trouble at all! You just enjoy your time at the works – your paint is looking a bit faded, now that I can see it clearly. Hmmm, should we paint you now or wait for the centenary?"

"You…you aren't going to scrap me?" The silence that followed was unbearable. The Fat Controller's face sank, and Edward cursed himself: the idea was out there now, he couldn't take it back. Was he about to receive his fate, learn of it months before the Fat Controller had planned?

"What would make you think that?" For a second, Edward thought he was asking how he had heard of his plans, but after several moments the blue engine was hit with a wave of relief. After twenty four hours of internal fretting, to have finally said it out loud to someone important, he realised how ridiculous he had been. An awkward, sad silence hung in the air, broken after several minutes only when the Fat Controller gently patted Edward's buffers.

"There seems to be this recurring idea that I am buying new engines as replacements for the old ones, but that is not the case. The busier we become and the more lines I reopen and extend, the more engines we are going to need. Every engine has a purpose on my railway, and that includes you Edward, don't you ever forget that."

The blue engine felt tears come to his eyes, but these were ones of happiness. "With the centenary coming up, it just reminded me of being put away in the shed for all those years, and I –"

"Say no more, Edward, I completely understand. But you must know that what happened to you was a reflection of Gordon Norramby's limited viewpoint and not on your skills. You may be old, Edward, but that simply means you are more experienced."

A few minutes later, Delphine was shunting Edward behind Rocky, Wilson ready to head back to Crovan's Gate. The blue engine couldn't stop smiling, and almost felt like laughing: it all seemed like a big joke now, the way his mind had escaped him like that. He looked at Delphine as she was uncoupled from him and felt a sudden guilt at how he had ignored her.

"Look after my line while I'm gone… not that you need the reminder, I am sure you will do an excellent job." The diesel looked stunned, but as the guard sounded his whistle and the train took off, Edward was relieved to see a smile cross her face.

The journey to Crovan's Gate was slow but peaceful: Edward looked around at all the sights that were so familiar, the stations and hills and forests he had long spent going past. The island was certainly changing, for the better he wasn't sure, but the railway he had helped built was still there beneath the surface.

The future I fear will come someday, but not any time soon. I may not be as useful as I once was, but I'm not going anywhere. We've all got a purpose on this railway – it's time I find out what mine is.

This took far too long to write, but I've already started on the next so hopefully we can get a lot more of these out before the end of the year!