Chapter 36

Thomas woke to the sound of smokebox doors banging shut, shovels scooping up coal and shouted instructions as drivers and firemen worked to raise heads of steam within their charges. From outside, he could hear engines being turned over and coughing into ignition in the nearby diesel sheds, and the awareness of his current state of being fell upon him with such heaviness it threatened to grind him into iron filings where he stood.

Yesterday, glad to have finally left Knapford and the magical engine behind as he left with his two coaches and their few passengers to his branch line, he found his rage being tempered with curiosity as he wondered how it was that he, an actual person who had had his soul or life-spirit or whatever it was called infused into the metal of a steam engine, was actually making it move.

To his mind, he was still a person, and he tried to recall how he'd felt before the recent change from being an engine, but that was no good as all he could remember from that time seemed as though it had been happening to someone else, and not him. Slowly, he'd tried connecting his mind to various parts of his "new" metal body, the same way he could remember doing when he'd actually been alive. He'd connected to his "hands" first, quickly drawing back in alarm and fear when they started to feel as though they were spinning so fast they might fly off the ends of his arms!

Then he'd gingerly tried to feel his "feet", and again sensing that awful spinning again, drew himself back to ponder over what it was he'd felt. He'd almost laughed out loud when it came obvious to him as to what he was feeling. His hands and feet were his wheels, though he'd been given two extra "feet" to deal with! If that was the case, he'd thought, then his arms and legs were obviously making them turn, which meant that, yeah, it was just like he was on his hands and knees and "crawling" along the tracks, but doing it a super-fast speed! His mouth fell open as he pondered over that thought.

He'd been so full of rage when first finding out what had been done to him, his figured his sub-conscious mind must have automatically been controlling his metal "parts", and tried once more to "feel" what it was like consciously, but then, at the moment when his conscious mind became aware that he was in fact controlling his actions, and just like when someone tries to think about what their feet are doing when they run quick down the stairs and almost trip themselves over, Thomas' wheels started slipping and his pistons started knocking violently and his steam chest rumbled with the back-pressure and he started to loudly cough out puffs of black smoke. He'd then heard his driver swearing loudly as he fought with the controls, quickly closing his water valves and easing off his regulator bar to cut back on power and enable the engine's wheels to regain their traction on the iron rails.

"What the hell happened, Thomas?" his driver had yelled at him. "You were going fine one minute and then you lost it! Are you all right?"

~I'm fine,~ Thomas had coldly replied once he'd felt himself regain his "footing". ~There must have been some grease or spilt oil on the tracks.~

The rest of the day had been pretty uneventful after that as he trudged back and fore along his branch line before returning to the engine sheds at Tidmouth, and he'd barely spoken to any of the other engines that day, preferring instead just to listen to what they had to say to each other and maybe find out if they, too, were aware of what had been done to them in order to give them "life", but all they'd done was to speculate over why they'd all been under such scrutiny, where were most of their usual passengers, missing freight runs and why was Lady spending so much time with the old green engine they'd been told to stay away from.

Equally of concern to them was why he, Thomas, was so quiet and not talking to them, to which he'd simply replied, ~I'm just tired, guys, and want to get some sleep.~ They, after all, wouldn't really know anything about Ivor, except for James, that is, maybe, but the red engine hadn't said anything in particular about him, either. Maybe James was just like himself, Thomas thought hopefully, and not showing that he, too, had a secret to keep.~

Closing his eyes to feign said sleep, he'd wondered if maybe each of them were thinking the same as he had been, that they mustn't let anyone know that they now had their proper memories back, and had to keep it a secret and not tell anyone. If that was the case, he'd thought to himself, then what would be the best way to approach them about it? After all, if they didn't have their old memories and one of them told Lady or Sir Topham that he'd been talking about once being a real person, then he was done for!

The dragon had told him to keep what he now knew secret, and he'd felt that the only way for him to keep that secret safe was not to let anyone else know that he had it, and what if his friends had that very same thought, he wondered. Also, what was the point in him knowing what he did if he couldn't do anything about it or tell anyone else? He didn't know if he could even trust his old friends, Annie and Clarabel, with whom he'd always talked about his problems.

He'd then thought of Percy., as he'd heard him using some really foul language before retiring for the night, and that was certainly not the Percy he originally knew, but if it was a sign that the saddle tank still had his human memories, then he was possibly an engine he could talk about it with. Frowning, he'd doubted he wanted to risk his fate in Percy's hands, after all, what with the way the green engine's mouth seemed to be running away from him, he'd be making a serious mistake in confiding with him. Had the dragon done what he did just for that secret knowledge to torment him until the day he was no longer useful and scrapped? As he'd settled down to sleep that night, Thomas had never felt so alone.

ooo

The high-pitched beeps of her alarm clock woke Gemma up at precisely six o'clock Saturday morning, announcing to her with their sharp tones that not only was it time for her to get up for work, but also that she'd done something really stupid last night when she'd drank all that wine on top of the lager. The unwanted addition of a splitting headache throbbing in time with the loud pulsing of her blood near her ears caused her to groan loudly, and she closed her eyes, curling up under her quilt and mentally debating with herself as to whether or not she could ignore the alarm and go back to sleep and not bother with work and just sleep off her hangover. Shit!

Her eyes opened wide as out-of-sequence memories of what she'd done last night before going to bed took over her thoughts and a feeling of guilt over ignoring her sister in her time of need began to fill her, combining with her pounding headache to produce a feeling of nausea. Feeling her mouth start to fill with saliva, she concentrated on her conviction that Jeanie wasn't her normal self these past few days to hold back her queasy stomach, but the feeling of sickness was too strong, and she rushed to the bathroom before it was too late.

As she stripped off for a shower, she again groaned, but this time not as a reaction to having woken up with a hangover or having been sick, but with the realisation that she had to go through with what she'd been planning behind Jeanie's back, and also with the knowledge that when, not if, her sister found out, it was going to ruin things between them forever. As she stepped under the streaming water together with the horrible knowledge that she was betraying her little sister, she started to cry.

ooo

Waiting on the turntable outside the engine shed, Thomas watched silently as the breakdown train and its crew worked together to lift and guide Ivor onto the low-floored wagon for his trip back to North Wales. James was patiently puffing out smoke several yards in front of the wagon as the little green engine was finally lowered onto the two rails set into the wagon's floor and securely chained into place. Mr Jones and Mr Dinwiddy would be travelling in Toad, who would soon be coupled onto the back of the low-floor and the little procession would then move on to Knapford for a hearty breakfast before setting off for home.

Thomas wished he was the one taking Ivor back home as it would give a chance to maybe see the dragon again and ask him for advice on what to do, but he knew that Sir Topham had said that he wanted all the engines back running as normal, which meant that he would be stuck on his branch line with little opportunity to observe the other engines and how they were reacting to things. Besides, Thomas knew James was more suited to a one-off trip like this, and anyway, he begrudgingly accepted, if James also had his memories, then maybe he would see Idris and talk to him about what to do. Maybe, he thought to himself, then, and despite the nearby magical engine watching over the proceedings, he could somehow test the waters, so to speak, just for a hint maybe that he wasn't alone with this dangerous knowledge, and at the same time reinforce to Lady that he was back to his "old" self again, and so, steeling himself, he rolled over a few yards to where James was waiting.

~Hey, James,~ he called out loudly. ~I hope you enjoy your trip to North Wales. I've heard there's some wonderful views there, especially from the high mountains!~

~Thank you, Thomas,~ the red engine replied cheerfully, ~but I doubt I'll see much of them because of those high mountains!~

~Still,~ Thomas went on, ~you will tell me if you see anything different or... out of the ordinary, won't you?~

~Yeah, sure, Thomas,~ said James. ~Hey, Thomas,~ he then continued, ~it's good to be back!~

What does he mean by THAT? wondered Thomas, suddenly confused. Does he mean being here in Knapford or does he mean being an engine again or just simply that we're all back running again? Wait a minute, what was he doing BEFORE we all changed? That's it, he was working from Brendam Docks and trying to fool Lady by making her think he's referring to THAT!

But not really sure just what his friend was actually trying to tell him, all the blue tank engine could think to reply with was a feeble, ~Er... yeah, I suppose it is.~ I'll have to speak with him in secret when he comes back from Wales.

ooo

After a pint of water and two painkillers, a freshly-showered and fully-dressed but grimly-determined Gemma stepped out of her bedroom ready to face the day, even if it did mean she'd be opening a can of really ugly worms. As she reached for the door handle of Jeanie's room, she was surprised to see her sister pop her head around from the top of the stairs.

"Good morning, Gemma," Jeanie said cheerfully to her. "I heard you up and about so I thought I'd sort out some breakfast for us both. I can give you a lift into town seeing as we're both going out this morning." She then turned round and went back downstairs.

"Come on down before it gets too cold," Gemma heard her call out a few seconds later.

Stunned by what she'd just witnessed, Gemma quietly opened her sister's door and peeked into her room, surprised at seeing the immaculately-made bed and Jeanie's make-up jars and things carefully laid out on the dresser-top. It was certainly not what she'd expected to see from the emotionally-wrought girl she'd heard crying in her sleep last night. Gently closing the door, she nervously made her way downstairs, not knowing what to expect. She'd been drunk when she went up to bed last night, she reminded herself, and wondered if maybe she'd dreamt that she'd heard her sister crying!

Entering the kitchen, Gemma's mouth fell open at what she saw waiting for her on the table. "Gawd, sis!" she exclaimed. "When did YOU learn to cook fried eggs properly?"

Sitting down to her breakfast of eggs, bacon and fried bread, Gemma watched as Jeanie finished chewing her own mouthful of food before replying calmly, "I told you, Gemma, it's the new me."

"Table manners as well?" Gemma asked, knowing well her sister's usual negligible table etiquette. She wondered how best to bring up last night.

"Sleep all right, Jeanie?" she then asked as she picked up her knife and fork. "I passed out downstairs for a while before going up to bed."

"I slept fine, Gemma. Why do you ask?"

"Oh, you know... the last few nights haven't, er..., been exactly peaceful for you, have they?"

"No, they haven't," said Jeanie after taking a sip of her tea to wash down some food, "but I'm all right now and raring to go," she finished, smiling briefly at her older sister before tucking back into her breakfast.

"Are you nervous about your new job at all?" Gemma asked nonchalantly. "I mean, I would be."

"No," said Jeanie, her loaded fork paused just a few inches from her mouth, "I'm just what the railway needs right now, to correct the mistakes Sir Topham has been making over the years before it too late."

"HA! YOU?" laughed Gemma at the absurdity of what she'd just heard. "How do you think YOU, a... a BEGINNER to all this would know how to run a railway company?"

"I already told you, Gemma, I'm the new me, now, finish your breakfast. You need food inside you to help soak up what you drank last night. Trust me, I know what I'm talking about."

The two sisters finished their food in silence, Gemma not wanting to say anything that might start an argument before they left as she wondered about the, no, not arrogance, the confidence with which she'd spoken. No, this wasn't her sister at all, never mind that guff about being "the new me"! As for Jeanie, well, Gemma didn't have a clue as to what her sister could possibly be thinking!

ooo

Fond farewells made, Thomas watched the procession set off from Knapford Station. He'd considered talking to Mr Jones before the Welshmen boarded the brake van, but the magical engine had been standing alongside Toad, stopping any of the other engines from getting near to Ivor. He wondered if she particularly suspected him and was trying to catch him out, so he'd held back and just acted the innocent little engine, tooting his whistle along with the others assembled there. She'd been doing that all the while they were still at Tidmouth, lurking not too far away so as to not missing hearing anything he might say to the other engines or to Ivor's driver or the old miner. The only real opportunity he'd have to speak freely with any of his engine friends, he knew, would be when she'd gone back to Shining Time, and so until then he'd just have to play dumb and act as though the Event hadn't happened. Frustrated, he fiercely vented some steam.

~Are you still feeling troubled over something, Thomas?~ he heard the magical engine ask as she drew alongside him.

~Yes,~ he grumbled. ~I wanted to talk with Ivor's driver.~

~What did you want to talk to him about, Thomas?~

~Nothing much, just about what it was like driving an old engine like Ivor, that's all.~

~I'm pretty sure he's honoured to work with him, Thomas, especially considering his uniqueness.~

~What 'uniqueness' is that, Lady?~ he asked, trying to make himself sound idly curious.

~Oh,~ sighed the magical engine, ~just that he's a one of a kind. Did you get to speak with him earlier, Thomas?~

~No, I didn't,~ said Thomas, wondering what the magical engine was implying. ~There was always some sort of distraction,~ he finished, hiding his bitterness.

~Well, Thomas, as you know, it HAS been a rather busy morning, after all. Now, haven't you got a branch line to serve? Your passengers are waiting!~

ooo

It was sunny outside as the two sisters walked to Jeanie's car, a bit chilly, though, but it should warm up as the day went on according to the early-morning weather forecast. The promise of some decent weather, though, did nothing to lift Gemma's spirits, nor clear up any confusion she felt after seeing her sister so unaffected earlier on. I STILL can't figure out if it was just a dream I had!

"What time'll you be home, then, Jeanie?" she asked as they got into the car. "To sort things out for tea, I mean," she added, and as she placed her briefcase onto the back seat, she realised something awful. Oh, crap! I've forgotten her sketchpad!

"I should be back by seventeen-thirty," her sister confidently replied.

"You what? Oh, er, half-er..., five-ish, yeah? What's with the twenty-four-, oh, I get it! Running your day like a railway timetable already, yeah? I get it, Jeanie. Ha! Very funny! Well, I'll be back in, oh, let's say, OH-TWO minutes, dare I say? I think I've left some documents in the house," and with that, took her briefcase back to the house and after opening the front door, ran upstairs to her sister's room.

Inside, she quickly gazed around, hoping to see the sketchpad poking out from somewhere, but her sister had obviously put it away somewhere. Shit! Where is it?

Dumping her briefcase onto Jeanie's bed, she got down onto her hands and knees and looked underneath the bed, but only saw some shoes and trainers. Getting back up, she went over to the dresser to check inside the drawers. Keeping bent low so she wouldn't be seen from outside just in case her sister happened to look up, she opened them one by one, sighing with relief when she found it in the second-from-bottom. Fuck! It's too big for my briefcase!

Grabbing her case, she left the bedroom, shutting the door behind her and went into her own room. There, she picked up the small over-night suitcase she sometimes used herself when stopping over at her boyfriend's and transferred the case's contents into it. She then carefully folded the sketchpad without creasing the middle and laid it on top of her own stuff before closing the case. Feeling her face flush with guilt and not a little shame over what she was doing, not to mention the occasional queasiness she still felt now and again, she feared she was going to be sick again, but luckily, after some slow, deep breaths, she felt herself calm down, and returned downstairs and back to the car.

"Are you going away?" she heard Jeanie ask as she put the larger case onto the back seat.

"Er, no. It's... I forgot some affidavits I need to refer to this morning. They're in a box file and my briefcase was too small to hold it. I'm right, now, so let's go, yeah?" Fuck, I hope I don't damage it or she'll kill me! I feel REALLY bad doing this!

Gemma spent the relatively short trip into the town centre arguing against her conscience that what she was doing was really for the right reason.

ooo

As they waited at Hackerbeck Station, Thomas thought he could hear his two coaches whispering together.

~Annie, Clarabel, is there anything wrong?~ he asked them. Maybe they're wondering how to approach me, he thought hopefully to himself.

~Er, Thomas...~ said Annie, ~I, er, no, WE were wondering...er, is there anything wrong with you?~

They know? Does she mean they still remember? But why are they bringing it up now when my driver and fireman could hear us?What's the best way I should reply to them without saying too much?

~What do you mean, ladies? What do you think is wrong with me? I feel fine!~

~It's... er,~ mumbled Clarabel, ~well, you haven't been talking to us like you normally do, so that means you're upset over something quite serious. We think it's because of, well, you-know-what and you-know-who.~

What are they saying? Are they referring to what I think they are? 'You-know-what' must be their memories and 'you-know-who' must mean Lady, but- but Annie speaking again cut off his thoughts.

~It's just that, well, Clarabel and I were talking privately together, and we think we know what's wrong.~

~Annie,~ said Thomas, ~I don't think we should talk about it right now, you know what I mean? This isn't the right time and place, if you understand?~

~If you insist, Thomas,~ said Clarabel.

~You let us know when you're ready to talk to us, Thomas,~ added Annie, ~and we'll have that chat.~

YES, THEY KNOW! Thomas cheered to himself, convinced that he knew what they were obviously referring to in their roundabout way, and they also knew not to let any of the staff know what they meant as well! Yes! He was well pleased with what he'd just been told. Finally, there was someone else, no, TWO others he could talk to about what happened to them.

"Well, that proves it," he then heard his driver say.

Thomas gaped in horror. Oh, no! They overheard us and found out about me still remembering! They obviously knew what Annie and Clarabel were talking about! I'm DOOMED!

"Yeah, you're right," he heard his fireman reply. "He IS jealous that James got to take that engine back to Wales!"

ooo

It was a chore having to work on a Saturday, Gemma ruefully considered, and especially so after last night. She'd been going back and fore to the toilet all morning to pee but at least she felt more herself again. The breakfast Jeanie'd cooked for them both had worked wonders for her queasy stomach, despite that dodgy moment in her bedroom, and she was looking forward to eating again later on with Divya. Thinking of which, she glanced over at the clock on the office wall and saw that it was approaching half-twelve. Only half an hour left!

Her thoughts returned to that morning's events and the fact that Jeanie was up and about and might overhear her meant that she hadn't had a chance to phone the railway station before leaving, but after phoning the station when she arrived at work and being told there was an express to Vicarstown leaving at 13.12 that called in at Brendam had been music to her ears. The thought of travelling there by bus and arriving late for her meeting had been worrying her, but after checking with Jason, her solicitor boss, that it was okay for a lift to the station, she felt some of the weight lifted from her shoulders.

Her only fear now was that she might bump into her sister while waiting for the train, but it was a chance she'd have to take, though if she did happen to see her, she mused, she could always hide her face behind a newspaper or something like some sort of secret agent. She smirked slightly at the thought, but her feeling of guilt over what she doing behind her sister's back quickly brought her back down to earth, and only by reminding herself that she doing all of this to help her was what stopped her from abandoning the whole idea. Trying to assuage her uncertainty, she decided to think about Divya, picturing the last time she saw her.

The image she had of her was of a short, thin, girl with long, black hair and an angular-looking face that, together with the thick, black-framed spectacles she always wore, made them look too big for her. Recalling the way she always talked, it was as though Divya had swallowed a book on English grammar, and she chuckled as she thought of the unlikely friendship she and her other friends had formed with her, the girl their clique had once thought a prude until hearing her dark, sometimes vulgar, humour. She recalled the time one day in class when, out of the blue, Divya had made some cynical comment about a politician and they'd all laughed, including their teacher who also saw the funny side of it. One of Gemma's friend's had suggested they approach her and so they'd invited her to join their group, later cementing their new friendship with an illicit trip into the nearby woods with some smuggled bottles of wine instead of their last double-lesson in Geography.

Being in the upper years, they'd usually spend break and dinner-time wandering around the school corridors and playing fields, five or six of them in a line sometimes, their arms linked together or holding hands and blocking the way for the smaller, younger pupils. Other times, they'd all meet up in an empty classroom and chat together. On a few occasions, Jeanie would tag along, but she wasn't allowed to stay for too long as their chats usually involved "adult" things such as boyfriends, who was the sexiest teacher, which teacher was having it off with whom and all the other usual school gossip much too personal for her sister's young ears!

Whilst not all of their group knew what career or job they wanted after leaving school, she knew Divya had always been focused on a medical career, something the Indian girl always remind them of. It did get a bit annoying at times with the way she acted so formal with them, even addressing them by their first and last names, and so they'd started calling her "Doctor Divya Tambe" to tease her, but Divya's response to that was always to tell them how better it was that at least she knew what she'd be doing with her life rather than going aimlessly into adulthood and working in some dead-end job or getting caught up with the wrong sort of people and ending up in prison or addicted to drugs.

Gemma recalled thinking her rather controlling at times, putting it down to some strict Indian way of life or whatever, and though only having met her parents on very few occasions, despite their friendship, she'd always thought the girl's father was the domineering sort, especially when Divya told them of the arguments her elder brother used to have with him.

Her thoughts then led on to her own experience of trying to find work after leaving school, and then of her sister's attempts and how she'd now found herself working for that fucking railway company. Yeah, Jeanie'd said she'd be going on courses and all that, but, Gemma reminded herself, if she'd had a first week in work like what her sister had seemingly had, then there was no way on earth she'd be going back to it.

Admittedly, her own first week at the solicitor's office hadbeen a bit of an tough eye-opener, especially when it had sunk in as to how much stuff she would have to learn before she could even consider herself half-way capable of doing it right, but then, she hadn't come home with injuries after unexplained accidents or falls onto the platform or been sent all around the mainland on some secret errand.

The thought of secret errands prompted her to think about what Divya had said of the restaurant they were to meet at, a place just under a mile from the station at Brendam called The Mariner, and from what Divya had said about it, she was quite looking forward to seeing it for herself, but she'd be going nowhere, she sternly told herself, if she didn't pull her finger out and finish the letter she was supposed to be typing.

Finally, one o'clock arrived and, after picking up her suitcase, she and her boss left for the short drive to the railway station, short if the traffic didn't hold them up, that is! Any other day, she'd have walked there, but it was a twenty-minute walk and way too far for her to run and get there in time for the train.

Arriving with three minutes to spare, she went over to the ticket window and bought a return, at the same time watching out for her sister as she wasn't really sure in what part of the station Jeanie worked. Fortunately, there was no sign of her, and now, ticket in hand, she made her way over to the platform the express would be leaving from.

The train duly arrived, slowing to a halt with loud hissing and steam and smoke everywhere, and Gemma was surprised to see only three coaches behind the large green engine. She'd thought it would be much longer than that what with it being an express and all, but there were only about seven or eight other people waiting with her. She reckoned maybe it was because it would take time for the news of the trains running again to reach everyone.

Picking a seat where she thought the relatively low sun wouldn't get in her eyes, she settled down and waited for the train to get going, and a bare minute later, she heard carriage doors being slammed shut and a loud whistle just outside made her jump in fright. Seconds later, and with a loud "Chuff...chuff..chuff-chuff-chuff", her journey of sibling-betrayal began.

Idly gazing at the back gardens of terraced houses that lay beside the track, it wasn't long before she heard a male voice asking to see everyone's tickets, and after retrieving hers from her purse, she held it out ready for inspection.

"Glad to be back running again?" she casually asked the conductor as he checked her ticket.

The man chuckled before replying, "Oh, yes, miss, definitely, though even without the trains running, there was plenty for us to do! Nice bit of overtime it was as well, I must say!"

"Nice for you," said Gemma agreeably. "Say, my sister works for the railway, well, just started, actually. Back in Knapford. She started last week.In fact, she started on the very day all the trains were cancelled! Imagine that! Jeanie Watkins, her name is. Do you know her at all?"

The conductor stood thinking to himself for a moment, then said, "Don't know anyone by that name, miss, but there a young woman hanging about with Sir Topham around then. Don't know who she was, though, and I can't say I saw her after that, either, so no, I can't say I've met her, to be honest."

"Oh, doesn't matter. She DID tell me, though,that Sir Topham had sent her on a trip to the mainland to get something he needed to repair the signals. She was gone nearlyall week, and on her first week there as well! They must think a lot of her for THAT sort of responsibility, no?"

"I wouldn't know, miss, but yeah, there was one engine that left the island to go and get some some special part or other. Edward, it was that went."

"Edward?" Gemma asked as though curious. "Was that the engine's name? My sister said ALL the engines on Sodor have people's names. Some tradition or whatever, she said it was. Is that true?"

"Oh, yes, it's true, miss. The one that's pulling these coaches right now, well, he's called Henry, in fact. Normally, Gordon would pull the express, but he's over at Crovan's Gate, been in for repair or something, I hear. We'll be stopping there later and he'll be taking over from Henry for the rest of the journey."

"You called the engine a 'he', don't men usually call things with engines a 'she'?"

"Cars and boats, I suppose, miss, yeah, and we do have some engines with female names, you know, but Henry is a man's name, and you wouldn't call a man a 'she',now, would you, miss?"

"No, I suppose I wouldn't," replied Gemma, laughing politely. "I mean, it's not as if it's alive, now, is it?"

"Alive? Ha-ha, no, it's not! That's a good one, miss, though, I must say," chuckled the conductor as he handed her ticket back to her, adding, "I'll have to tell the ladsthat 'un! Ho, they'll laugh at that, they will! A train being alive, indeed! Very funny! Have a good trip to Brendam, miss!"

Gemma watched the conductor walk through to the next carriage, and slowly shook her head as she reflected over her sister's fear that the engines had somehow "died". Hopefully, talking about it to Divya could maybe shed some light as to why she'd suddenly become so obsessed with the bloody things.

ooo

Stepping out from Brendam station, a cold onshore breeze sent Gemma shivering and she briskly walked down the road, soon reaching The Mariner, and hoping they had its heating system on so she could get back warm again. The restaurant was pretty impressive at first sight, she thought, but rather gimmicky with the way they'd furnished the outside, though, if not outlandish now she was seeing it with her own eyes.

Situated in the most important of the island's port towns, The Mariner had been designed and built as a themed restaurant with both exterior and interior décor designed to represent an old-time sailing ship. It had a mock prow fixed onto one side of the building to represent the prow of the "ship" and a sculptured "figurehead" attached underneath, with a metal and wood rudder-like fabrication on the other side for the "ship's" stern. The restaurant's windows consisted of three rows of round portholes with fascia boards designed to look like hatches that could be pulled down to close. Atop the otherwise flat roof of the building was a long handrail with two raised sections made up as quarter decks at both ends which, Gemma reckoned by the covered table tops she could just about make out, looked like they were used in the summer for open-air meals. Not-so-tall columns with horizontal cross-members and ropes hanging from them, a mock crow's nest and a union jack completed the concept of a sailing ship. The off-white sails that would have been blown by the wind coming from the east that day were nothing more, she guessed, were nothing more than dirty plastic mouldings bolted onto the cross-members and made to look as though they'd been rolled up or whatever it was sailors did with them. Divya had also told her that all the staff members wore uniforms designed in the fashion of old-time sailors. That, she HAD to see!

Above the entrance doorway was a large sign with "H.M.S. The Mariner" artfully painted underneath a spot lamp, and she made her way towards it, walking up a ramped path made to look like a gangplank with rope railings to hold on to, and went through the currently open doors painted to make them look, when closed, as though they were part of the "ship's" timber-boarded sides.

Waiting to meet her inside was a man dressed in an eighteenth-century sailor suit consisting of a blue frock-coat, white breeches with stockings and black shoes. All that was missing, thought Gemma, was one of those funny-shaped hats she'd seen sailors wear in old black-and-white films. He didn't half look comical, she thought, and almost giggled when he bowed elegantly to her before raising back up again and said, "A good day to you, madam. I am Seaman Franklin, and I bid you welcome to The Mariner. How may I assist you, this pleasant but blustery day?"

"Er, thank you," she said, smiling at him. "I'm meeting a miss Divya Tambe here for lunch?"

"Ah, yes. Doctor Tambe told me to expect you. Please, madam, if you would follow me?"

Clutching her suitcase tightly, Gemma followed Seaman Franklin inside.

ooo

Inside the container compound in Brendam docks, Tiberius, idly turning over the facet in his hands, stared at the tarpaulin-covered steam engine, contemplating the chances of success over failure. If this plan fails and he isn't arrested as a consequence, he'd be back to square one again with no other option than to apply through the courts for a share of his father's legacy, but a mere share wouldn't be enough for what he wanted. Acquiring total control was what he wanted so that he could sell-off most of the engines and rolling stock to other railways and invest the money into his own firm and the new road systems.

The E2 he'd salvaged years ago was, he knew, going insane from old age and lack of use, a common ailment engines suffered from as a result of not being able to serve their purpose, and something he could use to his advantage as, over the years, his plan had formed in his mind. The old engine wasn't altogether mechanically sound, though, and the fact he didn't have the second facet, the one the engine needed to allow it to control its movement, wasn't so much of a problem now since first discovering the other E2 on the island! He'd wondered if it was possible many years ago back in the scrapyard at Barry, but never had the opportunity to test his theory. Now, though, if all goes well, Tiberius thought, he'll get to see Tyrone actually moving under his own steam!

ooOOoo