Square Face
Toby awoke to the sound of creaking doors. For a brief second he wondered why someone was coming into the sheds so late at night, but when he opened his eyes he had to shut them just as quickly, sunlight pouring into his berth.
"You alright there?" The firelighter asked, catching his discomfort as he passed.
"Oh yes, I'm quite alright thank you," Toby replied politely, but the second the man had moved on, Toby squinted and looked down at his buffers, trying to ignore the glare. He had been fast asleep less than a minute ago and already felt groggy and disoriented from the unwanted wake-up call, vague memories from his dream still swirling around the forefronts of his mind.
"Don't you just hate it when this happens?"
Toby glanced at Thomas. "I don't mind. We all have to wake up at some point."
"I know, but a few extra minutes never hurts," Thomas laughed. "You're normally awake before any of us though."
"Yesterday must have been a longer day than I had realised," Toby dismissed kindly. "Flora is taking the workers to the quarry this morning anyway. My first train isn't for some time yet."
"Passengers?" Thomas asked, his smile fading. "I wonder how many there will be today."
Toby bristled at the remark but kept smiling. "Oh, let's not think like that, especially not you! It's been so nice seeing you smiling again."
Thomas arched his eyebrows in Toby's direction. "What do you mean?"
Toby rolled his eyes jokingly and chuckled. "Come on, Thomas, we're both too old to beat around the buffers like this. You have been acting very strangely recently, we could all see it. I was getting worried, but these past few days it's like you're a new engine."
Thomas smiled sheepishly at his buffers, not meeting Toby's eyes. "Was it that obvious?" he asked quietly before sighing. "You were right to worry. I wasn't having a good time for a while. There were a few thoughts I couldn't really shake. But when Duck crashed, I realised I can't waste time worrying about things I don't need to worry about, that I should appreciate the present. That probably doesn't make much sense, but I feel much happier now that I've stopped worrying."
Toby tried not to let his surprise show. "I'm just glad to hear you're feeling better."
The two engines continued chatting while their fires were lit, swapping stories from the past few days and talking about the weather and their hopes for the day as though all was well. But when Thomas left eventually to collect Annie and Clarabel, Toby watched him leave and tutted to himself. He must be the only engine on the island in a good mood this week. He sighed and tried to think about something else. The last few nights of disrupted sleep were starting to take the toll; Toby hoped the crash wouldn't be on his mind all day as well.
Unfortunately, it was easier said than done. Normally Toby looked forward to his first train of the day; it meant spending time with Henrietta and Victoria as well as catching up with familiar faces. However, for the past few days, the tram had felt apprehensive every time he approached Ffarquhar Station.
There had been noticeably fewer passengers over the last few days; it was unsurprising, given that it was less than a week since Duck's crash. Toby knew from experience that accidents like this always stirred up people's fears, but that didn't make him dread the prospect of an empty train. A mid-morning train in the week of the week was never particularly busy anyway, but Toby knew that if there was no one at the top of the line, that meant empty platforms awaited him beyond the tunnel, and Toby had thought he was long past having to suffer that indignity.
Thankfully, he didn't notice any difference from the usual numbers as he approached the station. Thank goodness, Toby thought and smiled gently at the crowd. However, most of them made their way to his coaches without meeting his gaze. Early days, I suppose, he sighed.
"I know that face," a distant voice called, and Toby looked up as Rosie approached the other platform, three coaches rattling behind her. "At last your coaches will be full. I told driver we wouldn't need three, he said I shouldn't assume anything, but, well…" The tank engine trailed off, looking at the half dozen passengers slowly approaching her train.
"Oh, I wasn't thinking about that," Toby said positively. "This is pretty standard for me."
"I don't know, I had much fuller trains last week before all this happened." Rosie looked up excitedly as someone ran frantically onto the platform, but her face sank when she realised it was only a porter running late for work. "Do you think this is how it's going to be from now on, or is it going to get worse?"
"This isn't that bad, trust me," Toby said, struggling to keep his smile up. "You will know when things are truly dire. This is just a blip; give it a week and people will be upset by something else and they will forget all about Duck's accident."
For a moment, Rosie's frown lingered, and Toby thought his words had failed. But the tank engine processed the thought and smiled, her brightening. "You're right, I'm probably being silly. I think there was a market on last week in Ulfstead, that was probably why my trains were so full."
"And there will undoubtedly be another one soon enough."
"I think there is one next week, actually!" Rosie laughed as a whistle sounded from the end of her train. "Thanks for that Toby, it's always so great talking to you."
The tram smiled warmly. "Anytime. See you later!" He said with a jingle of his bell, and Rosie whistled back as she disappeared into a cloud of smoke. The young ones are always the most optimistic, aren't they? Toby thought, shutting his eyes against the rising steam, and sighed.
When Toby opened his eyes again after a long, peaceful minute, he felt the presence of someone standing near him. He looked up and saw a little boy at the edge of the platform, a tiny hand gripping tightly onto his mothers. "Hello there," he said cheerfully.
The boy said nothing, but his beaming mother crouched down to his height. "Look, Matty, this is the train that will be taking us to Elsbridge today, isn't that exciting?" She nudged the boy towards Toby, clearly thinking it was a great idea. She could not see what Toby could though; the boy was wearing one of the grumpiest the tram had ever seen from a passenger, one that only got darker the more he was edged towards the tram.
"I don't want to go on that one," the little boy huffed. He planted his feet firmly on the platform and crossed his arms, staring disdainfully at Toby. "I want Thomas or Rosie!"
The mother looked awkwardly at Toby before rearranging her features into a positive grin. "Thomas or Rosie aren't taking this train though, Matty, and this is the one mummy has to catch to get to her appointment on time. We might be able to ride behind Thomas on the way back!"
"NO!" The boy shrieked, stamping his feet. "I want to ride on Thomas NOW!"
"Matty, we have to get on this train. It doesn't matter which engine is pulling the coaches, all the trains are the same in the end."
"This one is different, it's not even a real engine!"
"Now Matty, there is no need to be rude."
"It's ugly and square, I don't like it!" The boy turned to Toby, tears brimming in his eyes. "SQUARE FACE!" He screamed before spinning around and sprinting down the platform.
"Matty!" His mother scrambled to her feet and rushed after, leaving Toby alone at the end of the platform.
"Well, that was a little much," he mumbled. "Square Face, I haven't heard that one before."
"Was that horrible little child screaming at you, Toby?" Henrietta called.
"No, Henrietta, everything's fine," Toby replied with false cheerfulness. He knew Henrietta would be able to see through him, but before his coach could probe him further, the guard's whistle reverberated through the station, and Toby did not hesitate, taking off the moment he felt his brakes loosen.
"Someone's keen!" His driver said, laughing with the fireman.
Toby was in no laughing mood. He trundled out of the station and down the line with bitter determination, trying to quell the longing he felt to be back in his shed. "Everything's fine. Everything's just fine," he muttered to himself and sighed bitterly as he disappeared into the tunnel.
On most days, the tramway lane that connected the branch line with Anopha Quarry was a quiet and peaceful stretch of track. There were no houses about, just empty fields and rocky hills gently unfolding on either side of the rail. Occasionally, a car or lorry would race past, bringing with it plumes of smoke and dust, but this was a rare part of the island where the railway did not disturb the nature around it.
That is, as long as the engines are having a good day.
"Come on, come on! Why is this so difficult today?" Flora spluttered. She heaved forwards once again, feeling the redness in her face as she strained to pull the coach, yet her wheels continued to spin helplessly.
"What's the hold up?" A worker bellowed behind her. "We need to get to work!"
"You're the bloody hold up," Flora muttered under her breath, and jerked forwards once again, eyeing the top of the hill ahead of her.
Flora was always relaxed in the work she did. Nothing normally fazed her. She did prefer going out with Peach and taking passengers over hauling trucks to and from the harbour, but even that she was fine to do. The trucks were always rude and tried to bump her, but Flora took it in her stride, safe in the knowledge that no matter how bad the trucks got, there were infinitely better than taking the workers to the quarry.
She rarely had to do it. Toby normally took them first thing in the morning and seemed to enjoy the short trip along the country lane. The only time the burden passed to Flora was during the busy seasons when Peach and her second level were needed to take as many workers in one trip as possible. It was a time of the year Flora dreaded; grumpy passengers were one thing, but a whole coach of grumpy, tired, overworked passengers already looking forward to the end of the day was a whole different struggle.
"Hurry up, Toby never takes this long!"
Flora wasn't sure if it was the same worker that kept yelling at her or if they were taking turns, but it all sounded the same to her: loud, rude and entirely unhelpful. "I swear if I ever get over this hill, I am going to find that man and –"
"Come on, Flora, there's no need to get annoyed," Peach whispered. "We will get there eventually. Maybe you need to go back to the bottom and start again?"
"Maybe." Flora knew Peach meant well, and her idea was probably right, but in her current mood, she wasn't up to suggestions. It had been a long time, too long since she had started up the hill, and for whatever reason, whether it was weight or a fault with her wheels, she was unable to get more than halfway. Flora could see the top of the hill, it was so close, and she knew going back to the bottom would only make things worse.
You can do it, Flora! She told herself and rolled backwards slightly until her buffers touched Peach's. With a grunt, she jerked forwards; the coupling tightened, Flora could feel herself moving – and then, almost as quickly, she froze, wheels spinning helplessly.
Jeers started behind her again. "I'm trying!" Flora called pathetically to the world. Her driver applied her brakes, freezing them in the middle of the slop. Flora was relieved to have a break, but if she stayed here any longer she knew she would cry.
The quiet was shattered by the roar of a horn. Flora looked up expectantly and a minute light Mavis appeared at the top of the hill, her paintwork glowing angelically in the morning light.
Flora was so relieved she nearly sobbed. "You don't know how happy I am to see you!"
"I am sure I can guess," Mavis said, smiling knowingly. "I'm sorry to say it's my fault you're stuck here. My driver was struggling to apply my brakes this morning and we realised I've been leaking brake fluid. There are patches all over the tracks, I must have leaked right where you are now."
"Don't blame yourself, you can't have known!" Flora said though she was relieved to know it wasn't her fault.
She happily waited as her driver coupled her to Mavis, and did her best to help as the diesel pulled her up the hill. After what had felt like hours stuck on the hill, it now seemed like they were flying as they raced along the flat gradient, the grassy fields quickly disappearing and being replaced with boulders and rising cliffs.
Before she knew it Flora was in the heart of the quarry. The quiet of the country road had long disappeared, and now the sounds of machinery hard at work and metal clanging against rock filled her surroundings.
Soon they reached the platform, a bare bit of concrete coated in layers of dust built up over the years. "Thank you, Mavis, I probably would've been stuck there for hours if you hadn't come," Flora said with much gratitude.
"Think nothing of it; it's what any friend would do." Mavis gave a friendly toot as she was uncoupled and headed back to her work, leaving Flora and Peach alone with the workers as they disembarked.
Most of the workers did not look Flora's way as they stomped past, though she could hear them muttering, groaning about being late. However, two did stop a few feet from her, watching as Mavis disappeared amongst the trucks.
"That diesel is a proper engine. My father worked here when she first arrived, says she is still as hard a worker now as she was then," a tall man said.
"Not as faulty as all these bloody steam engines they've got all over the place," the fatter of the two said, looking directly at Flora as he said it. "Why Hatt keeps buying these useless girly engines is beyond me. He needs to scrap them all, buy something with a bit of grunt."
"Couldn't agree more, mate, couldn't agree more. We need another yellow lump of wood like we need a hole in the head."
The two guffawed boorishly as they walked away, leering at Flora long after they had left the station. "Morons," Flora's driver tutted. "Don't pay them any attention, they have no idea what they are talking about. Just parroting Macmillan is all."
Flora smiled at him but said nothing. She simply stared at the men as they walked away, and kept staring long after they had disappeared into the haze of dust that hung over the quarry. When her brakes came loose a minute later, Flora finally blinked and looked away, letting her mind wander as she rolled onto the loop and headed back the way she had come. She tried to think about her jobs for the rest of the day, she tried to focus on the patterns in the cliffs and the birds flying above the fields around her, but long after the noise and hubbub of the quarry had faded away into nothing, the rocks and dust returning to a sea of green, the worker's words were all that Flora could think about.
James eyed the small crowd of passengers making their way across the platform with disdain. "Slow day for you as well?"
Toby nodded silently. Today was one of the days where he didn't want to be right, but after the first stops at Hackenbeck and Elsbridge, he had known his coaches would be close to empty by the time he reached Knapford. Watching the barely dozen people crossing the platform to board their final train, and the even fewer strolling across the platform to take their place in Henrietta and Victoria, Toby wished again he was back in the sheds catching up on sleep rather than enduring this.
"You should have seen rush hour at Tidmouth," James said grimly. "You would have thought it was a Saturday morning in winter. The stationmaster called the police to see if there had been an accident or something, some reason everybody was held up, but, well, there's only been one accident, hasn't there?"
He glanced back the way he had come, and Toby's eyes followed him towards the tunnel. A new signal had been installed yesterday, the fresh white paint shining in the sun; next to it, a trio of gardeners was smoothing over the ground and planting fresh grass to cover up the earth Duck had torn up.
"That's not going to change anything," Toby muttered to himself.
"Did you say something?" James asked, eyes jolting back onto the tram.
"Nothing, just talking to myself," Toby said, and he forced a smile once again. "I'm sure you'll find more passengers down the way. The bus service isn't as reliable between here and Wellsworth, people need their trains along here."
"Maybe," James mumbled, not looking convinced. There was no time for Toby to say anything else; both guard's whistles went off in near perfect unison a few seconds later, and the red engine took off while the high pitched sounds still hung in the air.
"Goodbye," Toby called quietly to the retreating coaches. He watched them leave as a porter uncoupled him from Henrietta, and by the time the tram had rolled around to be coupled to Victoria, the sound of James' roaring wheels had faded away into silence.
The quiet followed Toby up the line. Even Henrietta and Victoria, who normally talked for most of the journey to Ffarquhar, stayed silent, their empty seats taking their toll. Toby didn't mind it though; there was only one thing they'd be talking about, and he didn't trust himself to keep up the façade in front of them. It was easier to say nothing and focus on the world around them. Nothing can take all this away from us, Toby thought, looking around at the trees and bushes and hills he knew all too well.
He could remember when he had first arrived on the railway, when all this had been new and strange to him. The locals had been so used to Thomas and Thomas alone for such a long time that the arrival of a second engine had been the talk of all the towns. For a few months, young kids had run up to the fences Toby passed now to watch him go by. The tram had always acknowledged them with a ring of his bell, even if it was an only child or lone farmer thankful for the break in the monotony.
Of course, that had only lasted a little while. After a year or two, Toby was simply another fixture. Percy arrived, and then Daisy, and they both got the same excited treatment from people looking for something to talk about. Even when they had become overly familiar sights, people still found them exciting; Percy with his bright green paint, Daisy a railcar novelty.
Toby still had his fans, he knew. There were those who were always excited to see him, who told their children about the cowcatchers and side plates, those children making excited noises and asking his crew for a ride. They weren't that excited when he took longer to reach its destination than Thomas or Daisy did, or when buses shot past at speeds Toby would never be able to achieve. People who had grown up with Toby a constant presence in their lives were more forgiving, the slow pace taking them back to their youth, weekends spent being carted up and down the branch line, but most regulars struggled to hide their dismay when they saw Toby rolling up to the platform, bell jingling, steam oozing mysteriously out from the metal skirt.
They'd all miss me when I'm gone, but they'd all move on eventually, wouldn't they? Toby smiled sadly at the thought. He knew he was overreacting; there was no sign that any of them would be getting scrapped any time soon, but he at least knew he was not being pedantic. It had happened before, after all; in another time, on a different line, there had been locals crushed to see their novel little tram going. Upset, but not enough to have taken a ride on the line when the first threats of closure had surfaced. Toby could remember his farewell party well even after all these years. He doubted he would ever forget it. He only had to close his eyes, just as he had every night this week, and he was back there, back in the past…
The unmistakable rumble of trucks coming down the line shook Toby out of his thoughts. He looked up and realised they were approaching Dryaw Station. He was already crossing the bridge, the noisy trucks passing by underneath. Toby expected to slow as they neared the station, but when he saw the empty platform he was not surprised when they didn't stop.
They carried on to the junction, where Percy was already waiting. "Hello Toby, busy day?"
"The usual," Toby replied simply. "How are the trucks behaving?"
Even without looking at his friend in the eye, Percy's hesitant pause was answer enough. "Not good," he said after a few moments. "They all know about Duck's accident, which isn't that surprising, but somehow they know about the lack of passengers. It's all they've been talking about all day – saying we're going to be scrapped, that it'll be us next."
"You should know better than to listen to trucks," Toby sighed. "They are just trying to cause trouble, we don't need to pay them any attention."
"I know that, but it stings how right they could be."
"They are trucks, they don't know anything," Toby said sharply. "If you pay any attention to them, that's only going to give them power. Just ignore them and they'll be back to their usual nonsense soon enough."
"You're right, you're right," Percy sighed. "It's just hard to tune them out when I'm thinking these thoughts anyway. I've seen the platforms the last few days, I know that's not usual. The Fat Controller said he wouldn't scrap anyone, and I believe him, but –"
"I'm sorry, Percy, but I'm running late. I'll talk to you later."
"Oh, okay. See you, Toby."
Toby rang his bell in farewell, not trusting himself to say anything. He briefly caught Percy's face as he passed, his hurt and confusion palpable in the second their eyes met, but Toby felt no guilt as he tore off down the track, pulling his train as fast as his small water tank and ancient wheels would carry him.
"Toby, are you alright?" Victoria asked quietly, her voice barely a whisper against the comparable roar of Toby's thrust.
"I'm fine, Victoria, I'm perfectly fine," the tram replied, smiling, well aware of how unconvincing he sounded.
The yard was quiet. Flora was not a fan of noise and chaos, but she liked a silent yard even less. She sat in a siding near the station, enjoying the heavy flow of cool water into her tanks, watching the nothingness unfold. She was alone, Titan having left with a train a few minutes earlier. Trucks, as usual, filled the sidings, but with no engines to tease they were keeping to themselves, only the occasional mutter or giggle carrying on the wind. A sole lorry briefly filled the world with its angry, diesely roar, but even that only lasted a moment.
Flora stared at the world, taking in every detail she could see, every sound she could hear, yet registered none of it. She was trying to fight the thoughts swimming madly through her mind, but nothing could stop the flood the quarry worker had unleashed.
At the heart of it all sat a single question. Is there something wrong with me? It was something Flora had never considered before. She had never had any reason to. Yet now that it had been asked, she found herself longing to find an answer.
Deep down, she had always suspected it, she could see that now. When she had first arrived, she could see everyone – passengers, trucks, the other engines – staring at her scalding yellow paint and vivacious red cowcatchers, and Flora had seen the same look in all their faces; curiosity, amusement, disbelief. She had known it was because of her paint, but she had never known why it had caused such a reaction. She had simply never had a word for it, until now.
Do they all think I'm some big joke? Some silly little toy engine they don't have to take too seriously? Surely they can't think that now? I've proven myself, I've done my part for the railway, I've helped out. I'm useful, just like everyone else. Aren't I?
Flora felt something move within her and she jolted out of her thoughts. There was a thud and a splash, and she winced as cold water splashed against her wheels, seeping through her side plates.
"Careful, Flora!" Her fireman grumbled. "Can you try not to move when I'm taking the hose out?'
Flora watched as he hooked the pipe back to the water tower and climbed down, revealing his soaked through pants. "Sorry!" She said quietly and looked away, trying to hide her brewing tears.
She could hear her crew talking, but nothing else was said to her as she was driven across the yard back to where Peach had been parked. For a few minutes the silence that engulfed the sidings was punctuated only by her driver coupling her to the coach, and then the sound of her pistons pumping and wheels churning against the tracks as she made her way towards the station.
As she approached the platform, Flora watched the small group of passengers waiting for her. Most ignored her, but a few people glanced her way at her approach; a little girl clutching her mother's hand, two teenagers in school uniform muttering to each other, a well-dressed man looking at her with a pinched nose. Flora normally smiled at her passengers and thought nothing of them, but today she looked at every single one, wondering they were thinking about her.
Suddenly, the silence around her vanished, replaced by a mechanical growl that emerged out of nowhere. It took everyone nearby a few minutes to work out where the noise was coming from, but when a dark figure appeared in the distance, Flora knew straight away what was happening.
"She's in trouble," she whispered to no one, her eyes locked on Mavis. Even from afar, Mavis looked pained, and from the sounds coming from her engine, Flora could see why. "She needs our help," she said, looking to her driver.
"I know. Give me a second," he said as he leapt from Flora's cab and ran towards the office. He was only in there for a few moments before rushing out again with the stationmaster in his wake. "Larry just radioed through, he isn't sure what's wrong but he thinks it has to do with whatever damaged her brakes," he explained, referring to Mavis' driver. "They are supposed to be taking the trucks straight to Knapford to meet an order but obviously she can't make it."
"Bloody hell, are they sending someone else?"
"No one's free. Well, no one who can make it there on time, anyway."
"Well, I could take it," Flora said.
Her crew turned towards her. "You? Do you think you can handle it?" Her driver asked, his voice rife with scepticism.
"Yes!" Flora said indignantly. "Do you not think I can?"
"No, of course not, I was just unsure you would want to take a train that size."
Flora looked back around and stifled a gasp. She had been so distracted by Mavis that she had not paid any attention to her train; there were at least two dozen trucks trailing behind her, maybe even more, all as full as can be. I can't take that all that. Flora knew she didn't have the strength; it would easily be the longest train she had ever pulled, and she didn't know if she had it in her.
She turned her focus back to Mavis, and she only had to look at the diesel's mournful expression to find her answer. It's what any friend would do. Flora shut her eyes and breathed slowly. This would be the biggest task she had ever undertaken, but she knew she had to do it for Mavis, for the line, for herself.
"I can handle it. Let's do it."
The passengers were starting to get annoyed. Toby watched the crowd swarming around the station master's office, their voices carrying as they all yelled questions at the poor man, demanding to know why their train has been delayed.
"Because a stupid farmer can't build a proper fence!" Henrietta yelled irritably, causing a few passengers to look around.
"Henrietta!" Victoria gasped.
Toby, however, struggled to stifle his giggles. This was the third time in only a few weeks cows running across the line had caused delays and all the engines were fed up. Of course, Toby couldn't say anything about it, not when the other engines were moaning and complaining. He had to help them see sense, as always, no matter how irritated he was at having to wait for cows to be chased back into their field, thinking about how buses never had to deal with this.
"Toby," Henrietta called, pulling the tram out of his thoughts, "why don't we go on ahead and round them all up? You've got just the tools to catch them."
Toby rolled his eyes and sighed, even though a smile crossed his lips. "Didn't you make that same joke last week?"
"Just goes to show how often we're being held up by selfish farmers!" Henrietta huffed.
"Come now, Henrietta, you can't blame the farmer for his cows being naughty," Victoria said.
"Who else am I supposed to blame then?" Henrietta grumbled. "I have a very good reason to dislike farmers. One wanted to turn me into a hen house!"
"Well, I was actually turned into a house," Victoria replied.
There was a long pause as everyone looked at the hedge alongside the station, beyond which Victoria had once sat. "Touché," Henrietta said finally.
"Besides, I thought it was a stationmaster on your old line that was going to turn you into a hen house."
"A station master with a farm," Henrietta corrected. "I was probably only about a few hours away from being rolled into his garden and filled up with bloody chickens! Can you imagine chickens tearing up my leather, sitting in the luggage rack? It's disgraceful!"
"Shouldn't your issue by with stationmaster's then?" Victoria chuckled.
Henrietta said something in response, but Toby was no longer paying attention. He stared at the station without actually seeing everything, while all sound around him faded into white noise. When he shut his eyes, he was no longer on Thomas' branch line; there was a station in front of him and tracks leading beyond the platform, but they were sights Toby hadn't seen for decades and likely never would again.
There were people waiting for him on the platform as Toby approached, but these passengers were happy to see him. Which was odd, Toby thought, considering it was his last day on the tramway. Why people thought it was a time for celebrating he would never be able to work out, nor why so many people had turned out today when they hadn't visited in years. Toby knew he would enjoy having company again, it was better than his last train being empty like all the others, but it was still strange to see everyone finally show up again.
And then he was rolling backwards, slower than before, without any weight behind him. Toby knew what was coming, but that still didn't make the feeling any better. My last view of freedom, he could remember thinking, looking at at the dinky yard that he had called home for so many years. No one was around now, only his crew as they put out his fire and moved towards the doors. The shed was big, spacious, more room than Toby had now, but that didn't mean much; it was only more darkness to surround him, more empty weight to press down on him for the rest of his existence. He watched his crew's sad faces as they pushed the doors shut, the sunlight getting thinner and thinner, and remembered wondering what would happen to them, to the tracks, to the station staff, to Henrietta, but most importantly, what was going to happen to him?
"Alright, it sounds like the track has been cleared, but the passengers are going to have to wait a little while longer."
Toby only opened his eyes when he felt his back coupling being loosened. He stared around, dazed, confused, for a moment forgetting where he was. When he saw the passengers on the station watching him, frowning rather than celebrating, the tram calmed down; at least on his old line no one had ever looked at him like that.
"Flora's stuck on a hill, she needs up help getting over the top," Toby's driver explained. "We'll be back for the passengers soon."
"Makes sense," Toby said without really thinking. He felt many pairs of eyes watching him as he trundled past without any coaches, a few moans and shouts following him down the line, but Toby ignored them all, all his energy spent on trying not to cry.
"COME ON, COME ON, COME ON!"
Flora's shouts echoed, reverberating through the fields on either side. She saw a few cows scamper away in fright, but that was all her yelling achieved. She had not moved an inch. She was no closer to reaching the top. Simply put, she was stuck.
"Shouting isn't going to help," her driver called from up ahead, where he was sprinkling sand across the tracks with the fireman. "Help will be here soon, and then we will get on our way."
"I shouldn't need help," Flora said quietly. She ignored her driver and tried pulling again, but her wheels slipped helplessly, just as they had for the last half an hour. Her fireman suspected that some of the fuel she had slipped on earlier was still on her wheels, and that the weight of the train was stopping her from getting a solid grip. Flora desperately wanted to believe him, but the longer she spent staring at the grass verges and the faraway point where the gradient levelled out again, the more inclined she was to face reality.
"She's square, she's yellow, she pulls her coaches, but give her trucks and she's simply hopeless!"
Flora winced. The trucks had conjured this chant up only a few minutes ago, but already she hated it. She might have been able to endure a different rhyme, she had survived plenty in the past, but to bring up her paint today of all days simply made her water boil.
He was right though, wasn't he? Flora thought, staring at the top of the slope. I really am just useless.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the faint ringing of a bell, and a minute later Toby appeared, smiling kindly as he rolled down the hill towards them. "I heard you are in a bit of trouble."
"Just a little," Flora replied, trying to smile back but she struggled to keep it up. She said nothing else as Toby slowed to a stop a few centimetres from her, and watched as her crew coupled the two together.
"The rails are nice and sandy, so we should have a good grip. Are you ready?" The old tram asked.
"I think so." Suddenly, Flora felt nervous. It was one thing to fail all on your own, but to fail in front of someone you respected and admired, that was an entirely different shame.
Far away at the back of the train, the guard sounded his whistle, and both trams lurched forwards. For a moment, nothing happened, and Flora shut her eyes, unable to look at Toby in the face of her failure. She urged herself onwards, willed her wheels to move and the trucks to follow. She focused on that thought with such intensity she thought she could imagine it, but then she felt a tugging in front of her, the weight of the train behind, her wheels gliding forwards.
"We're doing it!" Flora yelled and opened her eyes. She could see the whole world moving by as they began to climb the hill. The sight filled her with such joy she sounded her whistle and rang her bell as loudly as she could.
Toby smiled at her but said nothing as they reached the top of the slope. Flora's elation lingered for a time, but as the silence stretched on and the minutes passed by without comment, she began to feel awkward and uneasy. She tried to meet Toby's eye but the older tram was looking away, staring blankly off into the countryside.
Is he judging me? Flora thought, her water tank going cold. He is, isn't he? He probably thinks it's ridiculous that I can't even climb a hill on my own. He's over 100 years old and he could manage it, and here I am, weak, useless, with my pathetic bloody paint…
Before she was even aware it was coming, Flora let out a sob. She froze the second she noticed it, but not before Toby had turned his attention back to her, an eyebrow rising. Suddenly Flora hoped the silence would continue, but as they began the descent towards Elsbridge, she knew it was unavoidable now.
"Is everything alright?" Toby asked finally.
"Yes, I'm fine," Flora said unconvincingly.
"Did the trucks say something?"
"No!" Flora huffed. "Well, yes, but I can handle them, thank you very much!"
Toby looked affronted. "I was only asking."
Flora was struck with guilt. "Sorry," she mumbled. "It's just been a hard day."
"Hasn't it just," Toby said, smiling in a way that Flora didn't think was convincing.
"I've just worked myself into a state. Someone said something this morning, and…." Flora trailed off, looking at Toby in shock. The brown tram had sighed and rolled his eyes, and was now staring at her with a look that could only be described as irritation.
"Look, Flora, I have not come all this way to help you feel better about all your worries. I helped you up the hill, that was all that I was meant to do. Sorting out any of your other worries is not my job, not today at least."
"I-I-I wasn't asking for –"
"If you are concerned about something, try and find your own solution before bothering anyone else. But chances are that whatever you're worried about isn't even a real problem."
The train jolted to a stop; they had reached Elsbridge. A porter reached between the two engines with a hook, releasing the coupling, and almost instantly Toby jerked backwards. He did not look at Flora as he rolled back to the next set of points and switched back to his line. It was only when he was beside her, coaches behind him and passengers swarming inside, that Toby faced her again; for a second, guilt crossed his face, but when his guard sounded the whistles, his face went blank and he left without another word.
"Something's on his mind," Flora's driver muttered to the fireman, and both men laughed as Flora rolled slowly out of the station.
Flora did not laugh with them. She simply kept her eyes down, focused on the track ahead, and listened to the sound of the trucks rolling smoothly behind her, all while Toby's words went in circles through her thoughts.
While most roads around the island got busier and noisier at night, the country quarry lane never really changed. Asides from a few cars taking their owners home for the night, the dusty fields and the long curve of track was only ever interrupted by the welcome noise of an engine hard at work, a disruption to the peace that anyone living nearby had long become used to and often looked to.
It hasn't changed at all, has it? Toby thought, looking around as he and his coaches made their way towards the quarry. He had always thought it was the most beautiful part of the branch line; quiet, peaceful, a reminder of how railways once were before houses and factories took over the landscape. Quarry trucks were the worst to deal with, and their workers the grumpiest passengers, but Toby was always glad for a chance to work this line, especially as the sun was slipping behind the trees.
He knew he was biased towards the line. It was all thanks to this stretch of track that he had been saved. As Toby rattled over the road, he looked at the point where he had first encountered the police officer and smiled. The man had long since passed, but Toby still thanked him whenever he thought of him; who would have thought a railway hating, sleepless cop would have been the one to have saved him from eternal darkness?
Though a railway hating politician is probably going to send me back there. Toby felt his mood instantly darken at the thought, and he sighed, his brief moment of contentment already gone.
"Alright Toby, what's the matter?"
"Nothing, Henrietta, I told you I'm fine," Toby huffed.
The coach laughed bitterly. "No, you're not. We know when you're having a bad day, and this is the worst day you've had for at least twenty years."
"We can all see it, Toby," Victoria called from the back of the train. "You were short with Percy, and then you were quite rude to Flora. You're acting very unusually."
"What if this isn't unusual?" Toby huffed back. "What if every other day I'm pretending to be my usual self, and today I discovered what my usual self is? Did either of you stop to think of that when you were twittering about me?"
"We weren't twittering, Toby," Henrietta retorted haughtily. "We may have talked about you while you were helping Flora, yes, but only because we're concerned about you."
Toby scoffed. "You must be the only ones."
"What does that mean?"
For a moment, Toby didn't say anything. They had reached the bottom of the slope, and his crew were adjusting his speed, getting him ready for the steep climb. Toby paused, waiting until he had enough steam, eyeing his destination and hoping he could make it, all the while his thoughts building up, words forming on his lips ready to come out. When a moment later he jolted forwards, ready to climb the hill, Toby breathed in and for the first time in years let the words come pouring out.
"All week everyone has been talking about how worried they are, what the drop in passengers means, what Duck's accident might mean. All week all I've heard from the other engines is how afraid they are, but when I am given a chance to talk, they don't want to hear Worried Toby, or Scared Toby, or Slightly Concerned Toby, they want Wise Old Toby to tell them everything's going to be alright.
"So I've been telling them that everything's going to be fine because that's what they want to hear. I can't tell them that I have no idea if the railway will be able to recover from this. No one of them wants to hear me say that things might not work out, that this could be the beginning of the end. And no one cares that I am probably more terrified than anyone else in that shed because I am the most disposable of any of them. I'm the oldest, I'm the slowest, I am not very economical to run. If the railway starts cutting engines, I will be the first to go, but no one's trying to reassure me.
"And I know things might not work out. I have seen this all before. We all have. When we stop meeting someone else's standards of being useful, we're put in sheds, we're sold to farms, we're turned into summer houses. I've had to live through all this before, and I don't want to have to do it again because if it does happen I really don't think I will be able to handle it. I didn't the first time, and this time is going to be so much worse. This was meant to be a second chance, and I am not ready to give that all up again."
Toby reached the top of the hill and breathed out. The tears he had been holding back were flowing now, and the tram did nothing to stop them. He ignored his coaches and his crew, he ignored the hills and rocks rising up on either side of the track. He simply carried on towards his destination, relieved only that he wasn't holding anything back.
When they reached the quarry, the workers were all waiting for them. Toby came to a smooth stop at the platform and watched as the tired, hungry men and women streamed into his coaches. For a few minutes, their grunting and muffled chatter were all he could hear, but Toby knew that wouldn't be the case for long. At some point, whether it was in five minutes or five days, his coaches would speak up, and he had no idea how that was going to go.
The guard's whistle sounded without comment, and Toby set off straight away, rolling through lines of empty trucks as he reached the loop allowing him to turn around. For several minutes he simply sailed past boulders and machinery, and then by grassy hills and rock-strewn ditches, enjoying the scenery, holding on to this moment before anything changed.
Finally, Henrietta spoke. "Toby, I'm sorry."
Her words hung in the air alongside the sound of Toby's bell jingling and birds calling as they returned home to roost. "Sorry for what?" Toby asked after a few moments.
"I'm sorry I haven't stood up for you more. All this time I thought you liked helping everyone. If I had known this was how you felt, I –"
"I do like helping people," Toby said quickly. "I do, I really do. It's just…"
He couldn't say the words, but Henrietta knew what he meant. "You can't be everything that everyone expects of you every day."
Toby shut his eyes and smiled. "Exactly." He paused as they rolled down the hill, feeling the weight of two full coaches pressing against him, trying so hard to keep things steady, to make sure everyone reached the bottom safely.
"They only expect it of you because you've allowed them to expect it. You've filled this role, consciously or unconsciously, for so long that it has become a part of you, at least the you that everyone sees. To try and counter that, to change this image after so long, it's hard, maybe even impossible."
"I can't tell them how scared I am. I've seen this before, I know the signs."
"We all have, Toby, and we are scared as well," Victoria said solemnly. "It's alright to be scared, it's alright to let everyone see that."
"You don't have to be perfect, Toby. You don't have to be the wise old tram every minute of every day. You're not helping anyone pretending that everything's fine just to make them feel better for a few minutes, especially not yourself. You have to be brave."
"I thought I was doing that," Toby laughed coldly.
"Being brave and putting on a brave face are two entirely different things," Henrietta said, sweetness seeping into her stern voice. "It's not a bad thing to ask for help. You should know that – it's all anyone's been asking of you."
Toby chuckled at this, the tears still streaming down his face. Henrietta joined in, and then Victoria, and soon the quiet country lane was filled with the sound of their sombre laughter. Through his watery eyes, Toby again saw the spot where he had startled the policeman so long ago.
I've been helping everyone since the day I arrived, the tram thought. I guess it's about time I tried to help myself, isn't it?
The passengers were not happy Flora's train earlier had been cancelled. She could see a few of them were still swarming the stationmaster's office as she arrived back from the harbour. Margaret MacMillan will probably hear about this, she thought grimly, avoiding eye contact with the disgruntled customers. She was not up to face anyone else today.
The last parts of her journey had passed in a daze. Flora could not remember how long it had taken to reach the harbour, or where she had shunted the trucks or anything about her much shorter trip back to Ffarquhar. The only thing on her mind was what Toby had said before he had left. Flora had long stopped wondering if he had meant it, if he was just being rude, if he had wanted to say those things to her for a long time; she only cared about the words themselves and what they meant.
"Hello there Flora, back from the harbour already?"
Flora jumped; she had not expected to see the Fat Controller today, least of all have him interrupt her daydreaming. "Oh, hello sir, didn't see you there."
"I only just got out of a meeting with the passengers you left behind," the controller explained, glancing back towards the diminishing crowd. "Between you and me, I'm having to put in some extra effort this week to sort out these complaints. I imagine I'll be doing a lot of these meetings for the next wee while."
Guilt consumed Flora once again. "I'm sorry sir, I shouldn't have left them, but Mavis was ill and –"
"Think nothing of it, Flora, these things happen!" The Fat Controller said, shaking his head. "Frankly put, the quarry contract does far more business for this line than those passengers do, especially in the current climate. If only people carried what quarry workers think!"
"Yes, quite," Flora said, blushing.
The Fat Controller smiled warmly at her as he readjusted his hat. "You did excellent work as always, Flora. Pass on my regards to Toby," he added and strolled off towards the car park.
"Toby?" Flora seized up and looked around; there he was, rattling towards the station with Henrietta and Victoria in tow. Flora didn't want to see him again so soon, but her crew were filling out forms in the office, and Toby was only metres away.
In her panic, she did the first thing that came to mind. "Hello!" She yelled a little too loudly.
Toby looked around as he came to a stop. "Oh… hello Flora." He smiled uncertainly at her, and Flora could tell he felt bad for how he had left things.
"Hello," she repeated, feeling the tension pressing down against her.
"Flora, I must apologise for earlier. I shouldn't have said all those things."
"You don't need to apologise," Flora said quickly. "I know you were a bit grumpy, but what you said actually helped me."
Toby looked startled. "Really?"
"Yeah, really." Flora watched the stream of passengers pouring out of his coaches and streaming across the platform. There were close to one hundred workers there, but Flora only had eyes for two of them. She saw the short one first, his wide frame standing out as he lumbered behind the pack, the tall one a few feet ahead, looking around for his friend.
Flora smiled and rang her bell. The two jumped, as did some of the others around them. As sniggers passed through the crowd, the two men stared directly at Flora; the tram met their gaze and held it, and with a wide smile she winked at the pair and rang her bell again.
As she giggled watching the two walk silently away, Toby began to chuckle. "I'm not sure what that was, but I'm guessing it felt good?"
"Very," Flora replied, brimming with excitement. Her joy dimmed slightly as she watched Toby, seeing the look in his eye as he stared at the passengers walking away. "Are you alright, Toby?"
The tram looked back to Flora and smiled, and for perhaps the first time ever Flora noted how lined his face was. "Not really, if I'm being honest, Flora, but I think I will be better."
"Oh… I'm sorry to hear that. Is it anything you'd like to talk about?"
"Not now, no. But that doesn't mean we can't just talk."
"Are you sure?" Flora asked tentatively.
"Of course," Toby said, his smile brightening. "I'd love to hear about your day. What was all this about Mavis?"
Flora beamed, suddenly feeling as bright as her paintwork. She blinked back tears as she began to recount her day, a story that carried on long after the two had returned to the sheds. And not once, even as their conversation carried on into the night, did Toby's smile falter.
A long, long delay, one I apologise for. Hopefully, it will not happen again. This was a tricky one to get the tone right for, with an original draft and plan that got entirely scrapped. I hope this final version has worked out for the best.