TSREY

Chapter VIII

It was a crisp, Autumn day in 1869. Skarloey & Rheneas were stood, both in steam, on the Wharf. Wardle, their Yorkshire-built, standard gauge friend, was standing with a load of wagons, being filled with copper from heaps on the stone-block wharf. They were about two-thirds finished when Mr. Bobby came down, almost skipping, holding some pieces of paper. Skarloey looked at him expectantly.

'Letters for us Sir? Didn't think you were the postman.'

'It's as good as old boy, there's big news for us!' The two narrow gauge engines looked, wondering what earth-shattering development was affecting their peaceful little existence. Bobby continued, eyes furiously scanning one of the papers.

'According to this, they've discovered slate in the hills, near to where the copper mines are, and they're going to dig it up, and send it all over! Idn't that good, ay?' Skarloey was unimpressed. Rheneas looked confused.

'What's this have to do with us? So what if they're digging up slates, we don't need them.'

'You see Skarloey' Mr. Bobby elaborated 'The site of the slate reserves are right next to the existing mines. Thus, we are being tasked with building the quarries, and bringing all further slate exports down here. On top of your copper trains, the Company is going to be piled higher with money then the very mountains we reach.' Rheneas was happy with this, more wagons the better as far as he was concerned, but his older brother didn't share the feeling.

'More work is it? I don't know about that, there's two of us, and about 30 wagons all together we simply cannot manage such an expansion with what we have. We struggle as it is with the equipment we currently own and we physically cannot handle anymore traffic without great expansion to our rolling stock.' It was perhaps the most Skarloey had ever said in his life.

'Skarloey m'boy, you'll see, we've ordered a great amount of new wagons, specifically for slate traffic. Besides, the Company have a little something in mind to speed up the work.' Rheneas, who'd been silent all this time, finally spoke up.

'Well, that was very vague, now, any other news we should be made aware of?'

'One more thing, some nutters in Wellsworth, some miles from here have decided they want their own railway. They've started work on it to connect the quay at Suddery to the town of Wellsworth itself. When it's finished in a couple of years time they'll be getting their own engines, and the workshops, behind you, are being used to construct these. Expect our copper to be used for that as opposed to export. Won't be for a while yet.' And with this, somewhat more immediately interesting statement, he walked away, still looking quite pleased. The brothers looked to each other, but Wardle spoke up first:

Well lads, that'll keep yer busy for a bit won't it? Done well there, keep you in business for a while that will.' Nobody had an opportunity to reply, for he steamed away with the loaded train. Now, the Crovan's Gate Mining Company, who owned the mines, the surrounding area, and the Skarloey Railway, had their main interests in copper, but had no objection to using slate as secondary freight.

About half an hour after Wardle's departure, and about 10 minutes after Skarloey shoved off up the line with 2 coaches, a few wagons and the brakevan, Neil, the box tank turned up, with the regular goods from Kirk Ronan harbour. Occasionally he would stop and leave a parcel or crate or some such, but today, perched atop the third wagon from the van, was a large, tarpaulined something, which, upon it's arrival, was unloaded, and placed on the narrow gauge rails. This was achieved with several lengths of rail, much levering, many cups of tea, and a healthy dose of swearing. The covered something was then moved backwards into the shed, with pinch bars, and further expletives. Rheneas was having his valve gear fettled in the sheds. Again. So saw very little of the operation, and decided to look on quietly. By the time he was ready, and Neil had long gone by then, Skarloey returned backwards, and was put on shed beside Rheneas.

'Here, Rheneas, what's that?' He looked to the far right (their right) shed road.

'I don't know, couldn't see, but I overheard it's to go up to the quarry on the next train.'

'Well there's helpful now, isn't it? Either way, your train next, so shift it.' Skarloey's tone was expectedly dry and unimpressed.

'Alright, you old fool, I'm going. How many coaches will I need?' retorted Rheneas.

'Jemima and Ruth, Beatrice, possibly Agnes if she doesn't have a strop on.'

'What's the matter with her?'

'Someone shut one of her doors too hard,' the saddle tank complained.

'Bloody first class coaches.' And Rheneas steamed away. This sort of dry, plain, bickerish exchange was a reasonably typical conversation, perfectly representative of any two British friends, and not, as may it seem, antagonistic or rude. After collecting the coaches, he came back, and picked up the something, before departing for the top of the line, cursing the weight of the train.

Upon arrival at the mine, he ditched his special delivery, took water, for his tanks were small and a journey up the line was scarcely completed without a drink, and set off back down, collecting the 3 coaches (well, 2 and a van) to the bottom station. There,. Skarloey had initiated a shunting operation, and was barging wagons all over, yelling like Battery Sergeant Major Williams on a particularly trying manoeuvre. He had just derailed the last of them, when in came Rheneas, safety valves lifting away on his dome.

'Ay are boyo what's all the noise about?' Skarloey asked over the noise of escaping steam.

'No my fault, injector won't work, water gauge glass is showing up nothing!'

'Sorry boyo, you're done for.' A sarcastic and somewhat morbid comment showing little regard for Rheneas' probably melting firebox crown. Just as the fireman was considering an abandonment of ship to save his head, the awful Giffard injector started singing, and before too long the water gauge was telling a much happier story. However, Skarloey had something else on his mind:

'Did you ever find out about that delivery of yours?'

'No, come to think of it, I put it on a siding and left, nobody was around so I didn't bother prying.' And with that, clanked away to shunt the coaches back into the carriage shed. Skarloey was unsatisfied, and decided he was going to violate all railway code, by going up the line unauthorised. He at least had the good grace to bring a few wagons with him, though. He knew Rheneas was at the Gate, so there was absolutely no danger of a collision. Now, he was coming up to Glennock, which has a passing loop, as well as several sidings. These served a tiny quarry, from which good ballast was mined. It had no workings or designated men, but it was used whenever ballasting needed doing. He was coming up to the small halt platform, not really paying attention, when, with a flurry of swearing and buffers clunking, he collided roughly with some something large. There was a feminine yelp, and he jumped slightly. A soft, light, drifting feminine voice spoke up.

'What was that? Who's there? I didn't know there was someone coming, or I'd have moved, I'm ever so sorry!' She said all this rather quickly, and Skarloey, who was very slow on the uptake, had just realised it was an engine speaking.

'Now now, it's not your fault at all, no, all mine. I wasn't actually meant to be coming up at the moment.' He heard a soft sigh of relief, and went on speaking. 'Say, can you move please, unless you plan on making this a double header.' The new engine chuckled nervously, before, with much noise, she moved onto the other line. Here, Skarloey got his first good look at her. She was absolutely, drop-dead gorgeous. Indeterminate in build, 6 wheeled, inside framed, the curves of which were formed into the running board, with plenty of polished brass, incredibly attractively inclined cylinders, and plenty of embellishments. She looked rather old, Skarloey thought, probably from the late 1850s. She had a lovely coating of fine dust in all the hard to reach areas, and a handsome shade of paint. It was a deep green, similar to the S&M's livery, but darker and a bit bluer. He decided to stop staring, as the newcomer was blushing, and he regarded his buffers.

'Ah, hullo, erm, n-nice to meet you, er' she paused to read his broadly painted name, but found she couldn't. So she continued, 'I'm Luna, I'm here to work up at the new quarries, but, erm, I'm helping to build them first.' She gave a small smile, and appeared to be admiring Skarloey. He blushed, when he noticed, and tried to string together a sentence.

'Nice t-to meet you, Luna, ah, I'm Skarloey, I presume you were the something we took so much trouble unloading?' It wasn't what he ought to have said, but he was failing.

'Maybe? I-I've been asleep for s-several days now.' She sounded sympathetic for all the bother she'd caused.

'Now, now, not your fault, if anything I'm glad you're here, Rheneas gets boring after a few years.' It was at this moment Skarloey realised he never actually spoken to a female engine before, which was presumably why he was so attracted to Luna. At his last comment, she gave an oh so endearing little laugh. Skarloey had one question on his mind, however.

'Why are you here? You have no wagons for the ballast, have you just come down for a rekkie between trains?'

'Pretty much, I was on my way to erm... Ehh. The end of the line?'

'Crovan's Gate? Alright, I'll leave this horrible lot here, come back down with you, for Rheneas should become very confused if you turn up without a by your leave.' Luna agreed, so Skarloey left his train, and ambled off for a drink at the water tower, which was a modest arrangement at the end of the platform. Luna came over and buffered up, which surprised him, not in the action itself, but in her possession of buffers in the first place.

'Say, Luna, how d'you get buffers, us at Skarloey, and our twins at Talyllyn, are the only ones to have them, so's I hear.' Luna jumped, and looked downwards. This was a surprising revelation, learning buffers were the exception rather then the norm.

'I was built about a decade ago for an estate railway in Kent. There was a flour mill and a small canal mooring to work with, so we had things to do. Anyway, everything there had buffers, really too large for narrow gauge, but they look nice either way.'

Skarloey thought to himself 'Aah, she's from Kent, that explains why her voice is so nice.' However, what Skarloey actually said was a bit different:

'Aye, they do that. Couldn't manage without them, no. Tell you what though,' he continued, his left side disappearing in an alarming cloud of steam, which frightened little Luna 'I could manage without these bloody injectors, absolutely useless. Ok, driver, clout the ruddy thing would you!' The driver took a small hammer, and stove in the top of the clack valve cover.

'I, I don't even have injectors. Only a water pump. It works fine, but only when I'm moving.'

'Still have clack valves though. Ah, the joys of being a Victorian locomotive. Say, this estate railway of yours, how'd you get from there to CG Mining?' Luna gave a sad sort of sigh.

'Our owner, the Lord, passed away, he'd been ill for months, but always made sure I was kept ready for work. The new Lord, his son, didn't know what he was doing, and... He... He would have had me scrapped...' Tears seemed to be coming up in her eyes and Skarloey thought it best to stop momentarily. 'But, your owner, Mr. Mack, I think, needed an engine, and the day before the track was lifted, I arrived here. Unloading off the ship was awful, they had no crane. I sat for hours, hanging there, almost took a dive, and was put down the next day. They sheeted me up and I was presumably delivered.' The little engine seemed to have recovered, and the movement proceeded.

'You poor engine... Would've been a shame to scrap you, you're practically brand new! My unloading was similar, they nearly turned me upside down. When I arrived, I was so cross, not only at the journey from Whitehaven, but at having to pull trucks, I refused to work. I tried everything, from letting off all my steam, dropping my fire, blowing dirty smoke at the manager!' Luna giggled wildly at this. 'P'raps I never gave him enough credit, back then he didn't understand engines. He sheeted me and left me for days. They had to get an engineer from Fletcher Jennings, who had helped build me. Mr. Bobby he is. You'll meet him at Crovan's Gate, if you haven't before.' It seemed Luna had not, but she hadn't met Rheneas either, so questioned Skarloey about the other engine.

'This Rheneas, who's he?'

'Oh, he's my brother. Quite nice, hard worker. Dependable too. Won't steer you wrong, no. I suppose I was always the more wild of us. He had to keep me in line! He's still in the shed, got Mr. Bobby working on his valve gear for the fifth time this week!'

'What's wrong with it?'

'You see, Fletcher, who designed us, took out a Patent for Rheneas' design. He's a well tank you see, 0-4-0, long wheelbase. He rear axle sits behind his firebox, so you can't get eccentrics to it. They, instead, sit on the front axle, so all the sloppy motion of the coupling rods work his valve timing. The expansion link, and lever, doubles back under the eccentrics, to drive his valves. It's bloody cramped in there according to Bobby. If you listen to him coming up the line, his exhaust is all over. Every other chuff has come over all gimpy!' It was a paraphrased version of the explanation given to Skarloey by Mr. Jennings, though significantly more degrading. It satisfied Luna though, who fully understood valve gear. Her own had been laid out before her when she'd first been built.

'Say, Luna, when and where were you built? Not to sound rude of course.'

'Don't worry, I'm not so delicate as to consider my works plate rude.' Skarloey laughed at this, but subsided so as to allow Luna's continuation:

'I was built by Tulk & Ley in 1858. One of their last products before your builder, Fletcher Jennings, bought them out.'

'Ay, idn't that good? Same works building, but with... Give me a moment... 7 years between us.'

'I presume you aren't too good at maths, ay Skarloey?' He chortled and said:

'Ay, says you, you can't read!'

'How did you know?'

'I did see you struggling to read my saddle tank earlier. Mark you, I don't mind being admired when I'm clean.' Luna went a bit red-faced at this, for she had rather enjoyed examining his appearance while they were stood at Glennock. However, she couldn't dwell for long on this memory, for they rattled into the Wharf. Skarloey came to a stand in the shed, leaving Luna in front of him to sit in the sun. Rheneas saw them arrived and was surprised, so called out:

'Hey, Mr. Bobby, Skarloey's brought a girlfriend home!'

'Oh! Where d'you get such an idea from? I won't have that!' Skarloey was personally offended that Rheneas dare make such assumptions, and Rheneas had begun laughing. Before long, a row had started, and only stopped when Mr. Bobby extricated himself from Rheneas' frames and clocked the engine on the buffer beam with a spanner.

'Now that will do both of you! Rheneas, get the next train away, Skarloey, stop philandering with our new engine and tidy this yard up!' Skarloey noticed the spanner still in Mr. Bobby's hand and thought it best not to argue. He had bent his buffer beam in after an accident with a goat and no-one had found time to mend it. So, he, and Luna, set off to work. However, they didn't get much done. They were too busy watching each other while the other wasn't looking. By the time Rheneas got back, the Wharf looked not dissimilar to how he'd left it. He was cross too, and started shouting again:

'Oi, Skarloey you old fart! I had to take those wagons you left at Glennock, I mean, what were they even doing there! You weren't even meant to go up the line!' Skarloey whispered to Luna in a conspiratorial sort of way:

'Been nice knowing you, I'm for it now.' And he scuttled away, while the green engine laughed hysterically.

Skarloey wasn't seen again until next morning, he had tucked away in the carriage shed, and not come out until it was time for the first train. He had taken a load of fresh construction supplies with him behind the coaches, so he double headed the trip with Luna. He was glad he could, as Rheneas was still quite cross with him. He had let Luna lead, but she struggled, she couldn't read the whistle boards. So Skarloey had to guess when whistling was convenient. Eventually, Luna got the hang of 'rectangular sign = whistle' and did it herself. This surprised Skarloey, who sounded his own a moment later. Luna made the observation that, if Rheneas could play bass with his deep pair of whistles, the higher notes on the older two engines could probably play quite a nice treble.

Upon reaching the last station, it was decided that Luna go on with the quarry construction supplies, so Skarloey could run around and go back. For this, a remarkable shunt had to be performed. First, Luna ran off a good way down the line. Then, Skarloey pulled the coaches forwards, and reversed into the loop. Luna then backed down and went away, whistling a goodbye. Then, Skarloey propelled his train back, then forward again, and into the platform. He could then run around and get away himself. He returned home 5 minutes late because this operation took quite a long time. No-one seemed to mind but Skarloey. Wardle was 10 minutes late with the connection, because the coaches' brakes were sticking. Either way, Skarloey was really rather hoping he'd see a lot more of Luna, and, up in the quarry, she was thinking much the same.