Thomas' New(ish) Car
It had become the new talking point whenever Thomas entered the NWR's staffroom.
Ever since he had passed his driving test (admittedly after the fifth attempt) Thomas had made sure that word had spread to even the furthest recesses of the railway that he was to inherit a new car from an uncle back in Brighton. Daisy had heard it was to be a vintage Porsche, while Molly and Whiff had heard it was an exclusive prototype courtesy of Elon Musk. Regardless, it had become something of a guessing game amongst the rest of the staff as to exactly what their young colleague would end up with.
It was a chilly October morning when Thomas burst into the staffroom with the exuberance of a man who had struck gold.
"Today's the day!" he declared, placing a boot upon the coffee table in a pose he thought would emphasise the importance of his words.
Looking up from his newspaper in dismay, Edward ventured forth, "For what, Thomas?"
"Are you finally getting a job elsewhere?" James joked, watching with mirth as a flustered Gordon shooed Thomas' oily boot off the stack of fresh newspapers.
Thomas laughed humourlessly, "No, but…" he paused for dramatic effect (it didn't work), "Today's the day I'm getting my car!"
Percy, still navigating the basics of road theory, stared at his best friend in awe, "Nice! Can I get lifts to work?"
"Of course! Anyone who wants to can!"
Gordon groaned, folding his own newspaper, "Nobody in their right mind would hitch a lift with you every day in whatever health hazard of a car you end up with. How many times did it take for you to pass your test?"
"Five." Thomas muttered quietly.
"What was that?"
"I believe he said five, Gordon." Henry helpfully supplied, smirking. Thomas bared his teeth at him.
"You guys are just jealous of the car I'm gonna get this afternoon. My uncle assured me it's gonna be a great little car."
"…"
"You mean you've not seen it in person?" Douglas asked, concerned.
"That's like rule number one of getting a car, mate." Emily turned to Thomas lazily.
"…Technically no," Thomas shifted uneasily, "but my uncle's a right lad. I'm sure it's something cool. It's the same shade of blue as Number One anyway."
He was met with no response.
Thomas looked around the room at the raised eyebrows, before snorting, "Fine, don't expect any favours off me in future. I'll just leave you all to James' driving instead."
"Hey!" came an indignant squawk as Thomas stomped out of the staffroom to tend to engine #1.
Thomas was anxious. Truly. He'd let his mouth get ahead of him yet again; his uncle, cool or not, certainly wasn't going to give him his old Jaguar for the paltry sum of £250. Or even his cousin's beaten up old Fiat. The lack of photos from his uncle was also unsettling; the front-on photo had revealed little other than the brand and colour.
Thomas' frown deepened.
Percy, faithful as ever, had trotted out of the staffroom to join Thomas in prepping #1 for its next job, "Thomas, are you okay? You seemed kinda touchy in there."
"I am absolutely fine. Absolutely fine, except for the fact that the reality has suddenly hit me that I've been bigging myself up too much lately."
"What do you mean?" Percy inquired as Thomas changed the head code.
"I mean," he replied tersely, "my uncle isn't exactly getting me Porsche or a Mercedes, is he? And I've been going on about this car for weeks now, so they'll all be expecting something big. I'll be a bloody laughing stock."
Percy politely declined to inform Thomas that he was already a laughing stock.
"Just…promise me you won't take the piss when you see what I get?" Thomas pleaded.
Percy hesitated, "Uh, sure? Although I don't see what the problem is."
Thomas sighed.
"Is the bumper patched up with cardboard?" Percy asked incredulously.
Thomas sighed, "Yes, I believe it is, Percy. Any other insightful questions before you hop in and I drive us towards my inevitable embarrassment? Any other comments you want to make about my new ride?"
The pair stood before Thomas' 'new' – and new in the loosest possible sense of the word – car. It was a W-reg Suzuki Wagon, whose boxiness rivalled Toby's old tram. Its sky blue paint was obviously the third or fourth coat, and had been hastily applied in order to cover up the patch job to fix the bumper.
"Yes – why does it smell so musty?"
"I'd really rather not think about that. Now get in."
Pulling onto Crosby High Street, Thomas felt his grip tighten on the worn steering wheel as they immediately entered traffic. They inched forward slowly but surely towards the traffic lights that were working overtime to cope with the morning rush hour traffic heading for Knapford and Tidmouth. The car's radio was playing a crackly rendition of Ob La Di, Ob La Da by the Beatles, and Percy's mouthing along of the words was adding to Thomas' slowly fraying temper.
Unfortunately, the situation was exacerbated as a familiar red car drew out from an adjacent street to join the High Street traffic.
"Oh bugger, it's James!" Thomas exclaimed, ducking as low behind the steering wheel as he could.
"W-what? Where?" Percy whipped his head around to try and locate their colleague.
Thomas drew closer to the traffic lights before pulling his friend down below the dashboard, "Don't! He'll see you, you idiot!"
It was too late. James' car was immediately behind Thomas', and judging by the literal tears of laughter forming in his eyes, it was clear that James was also aware of this. As Thomas counted down the seconds until the traffic light turned green – the longest thirty-five seconds of his life – he was rather glad that James wasn't asthmatic, otherwise the amount of wheezing going on in the car behind him would have been rather concerning. Clearly someone was enjoying the situation a lot more than Thomas.
As if Thomas' day couldn't get any worse, he entered the staffroom to find that James had not only arrived before him, but that he had spread the news of the new car to his colleagues, who were all exhibiting various forms of mirth.
"How on earth did he get here before us? He was behind us in traffic!" Thomas sulked to Percy.
"Maybe it's because you spent eight minutes trying to park straight?" Percy suggested.
This answer did not appease Thomas in the slightest, and he stomped over to the kettle for a cup of strong coffee.
"Oh Thomas, you're here!" Rebecca giggled, "Can we see your car now?"
"No, you can't."
"Why not?" Gordon asked, "Too embarrassed to show it to us?"
"No!"
"Well considering James is red in the face and barely able to get a coherent sentence out without laughing…"
"James can never get a coherent sentence out anyway." Thomas snorted, turning around to face the others with a cup of strong coffee in his hand.
A wheezed "I resent that!" emanated from their redheaded friend.
"Lads. I have located the car." Henry popped his head into the doorway and beckoned everyone out towards the car park.
"No! Wait!" Thomas choked on his coffee, haphazardly slamming it down on the table before running out in pursuit of his colleagues.
Upon entering the car park, he scanned the horizon for the rest of the group. They were mere feet away from his car by now.
He could hear Gordon's guffawing before he saw him crease up completely. The others all sniggered as Thomas pushed through them.
"Did you borrow paint from the Works or something? That shade of blue is too specific to be coincidence, laddie." Donald wiped a tear of mirth from his eye.
"No! It came like that!"
"Bollocks did it come like that." Henry (who was actually asthmatic) wheezed.
"I swear my grandmother had that exact same car circa 2003." Duck noted. "Similar reg too."
"Piss off Duck." Thomas glared, "It was only £250, which is pretty good value if you think about it!"
"Well, you'll certainly break even when someone puts this on You've Been Framed." Emily laughed.
James, having barely recovered from his earlier laughing fit, devolved into cackles again.
Thomas frowned, which devolved into an all-out sulk when he noted Percy barely concealing his chuckling.
"Traitor." Thomas muttered under his breath.
Several weeks passed, and although discussion of Thomas' car had died down a bit, he occasionally still faced the odd jab from his colleagues.
Conditions were getting icier on Sodor as winter was approaching, and the less-than-stellar transport department of Sodor County Council was struggling to keep up with demand for pothole repairs.
As Gordon trundled down a rural road near Crosby in his 2010 Audi, his car's axles were certainly feeling the strain.
"Could you try avoiding those ruddy potholes or something? My flask is going to start leaking." Henry groaned.
"I tell you this every winter: this is a single track road so I cannot avoid them. Besides, the bloody things have been getting worse by the year. One of these days it's going to do some damage-" Gordon was cut off by the sound of his car hitting a particularly large pothole and snapping part of its axle in the process.
Both of the car's occupants sat in silence for a minute.
"Bugger."
Unbeknownst to them, Thomas was cruising down the same road with Percy in the passenger seat. In the dull winter morning light, he noticed the flashing of hazard lights up ahead.
"Damn, we ain't getting past a blockage on this road." He huffed, slowing to a stop. As they neared the car in front, however, they noticed it looked rather familiar – as did the two men stood next to it, arms akimbo.
"Is that-?" Percy started, as Thomas almost fell out of his car laughing.
"You lads need some help?" Thomas called.
"Oh, hell. It's them." Gordon muttered, "No, we are absolutely fine!"
"You sure about that?" Thomas prodded.
"…"
"The front axle has been severely damaged." Henry summarised, tutting, "The AA say they can be here within the hour, but won't be able to fix it here."
"So how will you get to work?" Percy asked.
Gordon remained silent.
"Weeeell, there's always my car." Thomas offered smugly.
Gordon glared at him.
Henry was cold and had had enough, "Right, let's get Gordon's car out of the middle of the road, and get Thomas to take us the rest of the way once the AA have arrived."
Gordon huffed. Thomas' face split into a sadistic grin.
As Thomas' Suzuki pulled into the car park, James was walking by to retrieve his jacket from his own car. He did a double-take upon catching sight of the Suzuki's other occupants.
Gordon exited the car with as much dignity as he could muster, dusting himself off and straightening his suit. Upon seeing James' wide-eyed gape, he snarled, "What the hell are you looking at?"
"You enjoy the trip in Thomas' car, Gordon?" he inquired, shock turning into a grin.
"No comment."
"Thanks for that, Thomas." Henry too exited the car, before walking over to James, "Morning."
"What happened?" James asked, genuinely curious.
"A pothole caused the demise of Gordon's car this morning. Thomas was unfortunately our knight in shining blue armour."
The pair turned to watch Gordon stalk off towards the staffroom, before turning back towards Thomas and Percy.
Thomas grinned.
