The next morning Thomas feigned sleep for as long as he could. As annoyed and confused as he was by last night's events, he didn't feel that waking up and launching straight into another argument was likely to do him any good. Instead he kept his eyes closed, carefully relaxed his expression and listened closely as James explained the situation in low tones to Gordon and Rebecca. Emily chipped in on occasion but was obviously wary that she might disturb him by calling across to the other side of the shed. Nia was still absent, something which would have caused far more speculation and concern on any other morning. Percy hadn't yet returned after his mail run.
"Wow!" Rebecca sounded greatly impressed at the news and Thomas could picture the expression of wonder she must be wearing as she spoke. "Does this sort of thing happen often on Sodor?"
"Only to Thomas," answered Gordon sourly.
A small spark of indignation flickered in the tank engine's firebox, enough to alert his fireman that he was awake after all, but Thomas continued the pretence. He wanted to hear what else the bigger engines had to say.
"Thomas is the Fat Controller's favourite," James told Rebecca sulkily. Despite his simmering anger, Thomas found himself pondering just how much it cost the red engine to make the admission that he, James, wasn't his owner's preferred locomotive despite his constant efforts to let everyone know how special he considered himself. He was probably jealous, and that was why he was so furious at Thomas.
"Yes, James, and you really did lay into him last night," murmured Emily, still unaware that the sleeper she was trying not to disturb wasn't actually asleep. "You should have been more careful."
"Too late to do anything about it now," said James grimly.
"I don't know why you're making such a fuss over this," Gordon remarked, managing to sound both lofty and thoroughly bored. "We've all had our differences with Thomas at times over the years and nothing has come of it. Why the concern now?"
"We didn't know then what we know now," replied Emily solemnly, setting Thomas's mind whirring in confusion as he tried to make sense of this.
Gordon harrumphed dismissively and departed, shortly followed by the others. Thomas continued pretending to sleep as a precaution and, when he judged that a safe period had passed, cautiously opened his eyes.
To find Emily looking straight at him.
"I knew you weren't asleep," declared the green engine triumphantly. "Were you hoping to avoid James?"
"I was hoping to avoid everyone," Thomas said pointedly.
Undeterred, Emily forged on. "Look, Thomas, there are things you should know and it's probably better that you hear them from me rather than James."
"Don't you have jobs to do?"
"My crew are starting late this morning to make up for the extra work we did covering the Twins' jobs yesterday." Emily fixed him with a severe look. "You ran away from Sodor. You can't really have expected everything to be exactly the same when you came back."
He hadn't, not if he was being honest with himself. How many nights had he spent secured to the deck of a ship and imagining the conversation in which the Fat Controller would strip him of his branch line? In his darkest moments, he had even speculated about whether he would be sent away from Sodor altogether.
"I always meant to come back," he said slowly. "That's the whole point of going all the way around the world, isn't it? You have to end up where you started from."
"But it was only temporary, wasn't it?" Emily told him sternly. "You've been around the world and now you're off again."
"It isn't quite like that." Thomas sighed. "I wish Percy had spoken to me before he told everyone. I could have explained..."
"You could have explained to him before you decided to go anywhere," said Emily, solidly standing her ground. "You could have been honest with him from the start. He thought you were dead, you know."
Thomas's eyes widened as he took this in. "Why would he think that?"
"Because you seemed to vanish off the face of the earth! The Fat Controller would send updates from time to time so we knew he had heard something about where you might be. The messages lifted Percy's spirits but only for a few days and then he would start worrying about shipwrecks and landslides and oh, all sorts of unpleasant things which might happen to an engine." Emily frowned, momentarily lost in the memory. "He really did grieve for you, Thomas. When you came back he was overjoyed, but he's had an awful time of it and I think he's finding hard to forgive you."
Thomas thought back to the welcoming party at Knapford, and Percy's rather stunned reaction to his return. "But everyone keeps talking about what a wonderful job he did on the branch line," he said quietly.
"That's all true," Emily said. "He put a brave face on it for the passengers, and for Annie and Clarabel, but I know that Toby and Henrietta spent an awful lot of time trying to keep his imagination from running wild."
A cold, uncomfortable feeling was creeping through Thomas's boiler.
"Percy isn't the only one," Emily said. "James started having nightmares again-"
"James has nightmares all the time," Thomas cut in. "You can't blame me for that!"
"-about the Steelworks," continued Emily, ignoring the interruption.
That took the wind out of Thomas's sails. The unexpected adventure on the Mainland had had a surprising effect on the red engine and, for some time after their return to Sodor, he had regularly suffered nightmares upsetting enough to wake the other residents of Tidmouth Sheds. The dreams seemed to involve melting engines and a fear of being trapped. Thomas understood – he had been there longer and been in more danger than James, after all – but the others had all felt quite uncomfortable about it. Edward had already moved to Wellsworth and in his absence no one had really known what to do for the best. In the end, nothing was said and James's dreams had eventually become increasing infrequent.
"And James is right about Edward, you know," Emily went on. "He started spending more and more time with Philip after you left. I think it upset him badly, losing both you and the Fat Controller so soon after BoCo, but you know how he is, he would never admit to it. Philip was here and Edward became more and more focussed on giving him advice. Henry says he was the same with you years ago."
The cold feeling had reached Thomas's firebox. He simply hadn't thought about how Edward might react, and yet he had known that the departure of BoCo had hit him hard. What a self-centred, blinkered engine he had been! "I didn't think," he admitted solemnly. "I didn't set out to upset anyone, I just didn't realise that I would be away so long. The world turned out to be a lot bigger than I had thought it was. And I didn't expect the Fat Controller to follow me."
Emily looked away at this. "None of us did. Don't you understand, Thomas? As soon as Carly admitted what she'd done, he started making plans to travel to Senegal. He... he left us. He left all of us to go after you." Emily looked back at him and her expression hardened. "You don't know how that feels. You're worth more to him than all of the rest of us put together and... well, it's hard to know what to make of that."
Like a headlamp switching on suddenly and revealing the tracks ahead on a moonless night, Thomas realised the cause of that underlying feeling of something being not quite right ever since he returned from his travels. "When James says I'm the favourite..."
"Well, you are, aren't you?" said Emily, making no attempt to hide the bitterness in her voice. "The only engine who matters to him anywhere near as much as you do is Gordon, and he certainly wouldn't let Gordon get away with behaving the way you have done."
"And that's why none of you have been honest with me until now? Oh," as a memory resurfaced, "except Mavis. But she isn't owned by the Fat Controller."
"Mavis thinks being privately owned means that she doesn't need to be as careful about what she says to you," Emily informed him. "I think she ought to be a bit more cautious or she might find that she's no longer welcome at the Dieselworks."
"But this is ridiculous!" Thomas stared at the bigger engine in incredulity. "You're all scared to tell me how you feel in case – what? You think he'll send you away?"
Emily hesitated. "Maybe not. This railway doesn't send engines away. But if there's an argument he's bound to take your side and none of us want to be out in the cold. We know how that feels."
"Cinders and ashes, Emily! Don't you remember all of the trouble I was in when I was sent to help with the Harwick extension? He didn't exactly take my side when I rescued Ryan from that truck of burning dynamite, did he?"
"And then what happened?" Emily asked him wearily. "You stopped that man from stealing the pirate treasure and the Fat Controller told everyone you were a hero. Gordon says you have more luck than any other engine on this earth and I'm starting to think he's right. Things always work out for you."
"Well, perhaps Gordon should have spent his time trying to persuade Percy of that fact while I was away," Thomas argued. "That might have saved some upset."
"He did!" Emily glared at him. "Gordon was an absolute rock while you were away, Thomas. He refused to believe that anything bad could happen to you and his conviction won over a fair few others. Goodness knows he has his faults but I won't have you criticising him over that. I don't know how this railway would have managed without him."
The idea of Gordon acting as a support to the whole of the North Western through sheer bloody-mindedness was a strange enough idea to shock Thomas into silence and he let his gaze drift past to Emily to the yard beyond. The fine weather of the last few days had been replaced by low clouds and a general feeling of dampness which made him think wistfully of Kenyan sunshine.
He didn't know what to do.
After a few moments, his driver appeared in front of him and indicated that it was time to leave. Emily caught the gesture and raised her eyebrows in challenge. "Well, I've said my piece now," she murmured. "What happens next is up to you, Thomas."
XXX
The dismal weather hadn't slowed the pace of work at Brendam Docks, but absence of two small, brightly-coloured saddle tanks hinted that rain might be causing some problems at the China Clay Pits. Edward, who had arrived early in accordance with his unofficial role as the Twins' supervisor, decided it was probably best to make himself scarce until his scheduled goods train was ready.
As he reversed into a siding well out of the way behind the goods shed, he was surprised to find that he wasn't alone. Thomas was backed up to the buffers, gazing out in the general direction of the sea and so preoccupied that he didn't acknowledge his friend's arrival.
"Penny for your thoughts, Thomas?" he asked brightly.
"Driver says you can't buy anything much for a penny these days," said Thomas absently.
"Really?" This was so unexpected that it threw Edward for a moment. Surely the value of money was something which remained constant? Even with all those years behind him, the human world still had the capacity to surprise, and that was something to be appreciated.
But he couldn't spend too long thinking this over. Thomas was still looking glum and Edward himself had the leisure of some free time which could be put to good use talking through whatever was troubling the younger engine. "Is something wrong?" he asked, keeping his tone light.
Thomas sighed. "I owe you an apology."
It was shaping up to be quite the morning for apologies. The first had, not unexpectedly, come from James: a shamefaced, wretched James who couldn't bring himself to make eye contact. Edward had quietly acknowledged his efforts but gone no further. The damage inflicted by the red engine's words was still too raw and Edward felt that he would seem irresolute if he were to offer forgiveness so quickly. James needed sufficient time to reflect on his behaviour if there was to be any hope that he might control his temper better in future. All the same, now that his anger had dimmed he was left with a deep concern about the source of James's unpredictable moods. He had missed something, but had no idea what it might have been.
Thomas, however, hadn't wronged him as far as he was aware. "Do you? Whatever for?"
"For running off to Senegal without telling anyone where I was going. For leaving you without saying goodbye." Thomas looked at him and Edward could see that this was important to the smaller engine. "I didn't think, and I should have done. I knew that you were upset about BoCo leaving and then I went off and disappeared too. And the Fat Controller followed me, which made things even worse, and now everyone is furious with me and it's too late for me to put any of it right."
"First off, it's never too late to make amends if that's what is needed," admonished Edward gently. "But more importantly: thank you. I do appreciate the sentiment. We were really very worried about you but that's all in the past now. I don't think it's worth dwelling on it."
Thomas scrunched up his nose. "Ah, but it's not all in the past. Edward, I've asked the Fat Controller if I can go to India for a short time to work with Ashima."
"Oh!" For the second time in as many minutes Edward was taken aback by an unforeseen turn in the conversation.
"Percy overheard him talking about it and it seems that he's agreed," Thomas went on gloomily. "So everyone at Tidmouth found out last night and there was a dreadful row. Emily gave me quite an earbashing earlier about being the favourite. Did you know that everyone is frightened to disagree with me in case they get into trouble for it?"
"'Everyone' might be an exaggeration," remarked Edward dryly. "Was Diesel holding back over the misplaced trucks yesterday?"
"Oh, well, Diesel," said Thomas as though that explained everything, which it did.
"When the Fat Controller left it was a shock for all of us," Edward admitted. "Everything was shaken up and it will take some time for it all to settle again. You need to remember – and those who hold it against you need to accept – that the Fat Controller made the decision to follow you. The responsibility is his alone."
"But that's the problem, isn't it? Everyone else feels that they aren't valued and it's pretty obvious why. I wish I could fix that but I can't."
Perhaps, Edward considered, the time he had spent confined to the shed had better equipped him to manage that feeling than the experiences of some of his younger colleagues. "It isn't your job to fix it," he pointed out, thoughtfully. "Own up to and learn from your own mistakes, Thomas, but don't burden yourself with those of others."
"James says you've replaced me with Philip," said Thomas, his voice uncharacteristically small.
Edward raised an eyebrow. "Do you really think you could be replaced? If that were the case, why did the Fat Controller spend so much time and effort looking for you? Philip needs a little bit of friendly support and guidance, that's all. I have been assisting him because that's what we do on the North Western, we help new arrivals. You've taken on that role often enough yourself in the past."
Thomas gave a small smile. "It does sound silly when you put it like that."
"And no doubt James had his own reasons for making such a comment," added Edward carefully.
"I think he's jealous that I'm getting all of the attention but he has been behaving rather strangely over the last few days." Thomas gave him a shrewd look. "Do you know what's going on with him?"
"I know that something is the matter but nothing beyond that. He hasn't confided in me and I don't think he's likely to."
"I'll keep an eye on him for you," promised Thomas. "Although we're not on the best of terms at the moment."
Edward smiled gratefully at him. "So... Ashima?"
Thomas flushed and looked down at the rails, and Edward suddenly felt rather sorry for his old friend. He was clearly embarrassed by this topic of conversation but if he had initially proposed the idea of travelling to India then he must be very fond of the elaborately painted engine and so the subject really did need to be examined.
"Is she worth it?"
Thomas looked confused. "What do you mean?"
"Is Ashima worth upsetting everyone at Tidmouth to such an extent?" Edward studied the tank engine's face carefully. "Is the connection you have with her so special that you are willing to risk your friendships here on Sodor to be reunited with her?"
"I don't know," admitted Thomas frankly. "That's why I wanted to go to India, so I could find out how I really feel. I didn't see Ace for who he really was because I was so keen on the idea of travelling with him. What if I'm doing the same thing now with Ashima? I can't know for certain without leaving Sodor, and I shouldn't leave Sodor if I don't know. I'm stuck." He sighed. "Edward, the truth is that I want to travel and see Ashima and see the world AND I want my life on Sodor to stay exactly the same. I can't have both of those things and I don't know what to do for the best. I s'pose the easiest option is to stay here and carry on as before."
Edward pondered this thoroughly before offering his opinion. "For what it's worth, I think you should go."
Thomas gaped at him. "Really?"
"I do. It's an amazing opportunity, Thomas, and I hate to think that you might turn it down and end up regretting your decision. That is the sort of thing which could well lead to resentment, and that would only lead to more unhappiness further down the line for everyone."
"The others already resent me because I'm the one being offered the opportunity," Thomas pointed out.
"And if you decline the offer, would it be given to anyone else?"
"That would probably depend on whether anyone else wants to see Ashima, and I don't think anyone does."
"Exactly. You have to make the decision that is right for you. Whether or not it is right for anyone else remains to be seen. I wouldn't say this to Gordon, of course, but Flying Scotsman has built an entire career on touring the world so there is a precedent."
Thomas looked at him thoughtfully. "I'm not sure that would be right for me. Sodor will always be home. It's ours, isn't it, Edward? We built this railway. The North Western means something to us which the others can't really understand."
Edward smiled. "Absolutely."
"Thomas!" Cranky's voice boomed out from the dockside, echoes bouncing from the brick buildings around them. "Goods train for Ffarquhar waiting for you!"
Thomas smiled back at Edward as he whistled an acknowledgement and departed. As Edward watched his bunker recede into the distance, as he had done so very many times over the decades, he felt a sense of certainty. Wherever Thomas might find himself in the future, he could always be sure that Edward would be right there on the Brendam branch line, like an anchor tethering him to his home. The old engine found he liked the thought of being a constant in an ever-changing world.
XXX
James didn't get much sleep following the argument with Thomas. He did, however, come to his senses in the early hours as it gradually dawned on him just how much hard work it would take to repair his relationship with Edward. Thomas deserved everything he got, but to mention Edward's withdrawal from service all those years ago had been a low blow. While it was hardly the first time James had said something unkind to the older engine, he knew that this time a line had been crossed and bitterly regretted letting his temper get the better of him once again.
Anger had completely driven any logic right out of his smokebox. He had wanted Edward to realise that something was wrong, he had wanted someone to listen and understand and care, and as soon as the possibility emerged, he had flown off the handle and seen red, all because it hadn't happened exactly the way he wanted it to. Oh, life would be so much easier if he had any control over his own destiny but he was a machine dependent on humans and what was the use in wishing for impossible things?
Thomas wished for impossible things and his wishes came true. How marvellous the world must seem if you were the Fat Controller's favourite.
Better not to think about that.
He was lonely. James knew – and had admitted as much to Thomas in a rare moment of weakness after the Steelworks incident – that he wasn't hugely popular on the North Western Railway. He had friends, of course, but until Nia he hadn't really had another engine he could confide in. Perhaps an inability to form real connections with others was the inevitable legacy of the Lancashire and Yorkshire Railway, where the pace of work and the quantity of locomotives made such things difficult. James wondered if any other ex-L&YR engines felt the same, although there were precious few of them left so it was unlikely he would ever find out.
The absolute, unequivocal truth of the matter was that losing his temper was always the easiest answer. Whenever he felt vulnerable, flying into a rage and acting as though he had been wronged was the only thing which made him feel in control once more. The bootlace incident had happened because he was frightened that the Fat Controller was unhappy with him and he had taken it out on the coaches. He had devised a really rather cruel revenge on Percy after the saddle tank witnessed the derailment caused by Gator; he had goaded Rosie into racing against him when her new livery made him feel his own was less special; he had caused a crash which damaged Edward's cylinder when the old engine was selected for the poster campaign all those years ago. Anger was his automatic reaction when he didn't want anyone to see his true feelings, a way of pushing others away before they got close enough to see any signs of weakness.
How different things might have been if he had thrown his lot in with Edward when he first arrived on Sodor! He had always felt that the Fat Controller had hoped the two would become firm friends but James had been so determined to be seen as a 'big engine' that he had aligned himself with Gordon and Henry instead. And, he admitted to himself with that candour which can only be found in the small hours of the morning when there is nothing to distract from one's own thoughts, the cause of his current unhappiness wasn't really Edward, or Nia. It had all started with Henry, who had left for Vicarstown with scant regard for the effect it would have on James. For all those years, the Flying Kipper had filled him with dread because the memories of Henry's accident were so distressing and in return Henry had abandoned him without a thought. Gordon, predictably, had reacted badly to his departure but in all of the commotion, no one else had even considered whether James might also be upset at losing one of his oldest friends. He might have felt better if Gordon had drawn him into his protests but the bigger engine had made it very clear that he still held James responsible for Edward's departure. It was hardly any wonder that he had felt drawn to the new arrival who seemed to enjoy his company.
What a mess he had made of everything.
When dawn came – a grey, drizzly dawn which did nothing to lift his spirits – James had come to the conclusion that the only course of action available to him was to say sorry to Edward: to get it out of the way promptly and therefore avoid further trouble. Thomas wasn't really his problem and Nia... well, he didn't know what could be done to resolve that issue and would have to wait to see what opportunities presented themselves. But Edward deserved an apology and James needed to start somewhere.
James's first train of the morning was a passenger service which stopped at Wellsworth, providing him with an ideal chance to speak to Edward, who often arrived from Brendam around the same time on the other platform. Indeed, the blue engine was waiting at the station as James pulled in and he wasted no time in carrying out his plan.
"I'm truly sorry about last night, Edward," he said, his eyes downcast not because he wished to appear contrite but because he was apprehensive of the other engine's reaction. "I should never have said what I did."
The pause which followed stretched out for an uncomfortably long time, during which James kept his gaze fixed on the rails below. After what seemed like approximately three years Edward spoke, his voice quiet and neutral. "I see."
And that was all. The guard's whistle sounded behind him, and James had no option but to head off to Maron feeling crushed. He hadn't expected absolute forgiveness but he had expected a touch more warmth than he had sensed in Edward's demeanour. He had known that he had a hill to climb if he wanted to repair their friendship but now it was looking far more like a mountain and one he was ill-equipped to ascend.
The rest of the journey passed uneventfully and before James knew it, he was at Vicarstown and heading for the yard for a drink. There was Henry, chatting amiably with Rosie as she pulled trucks into position, and for a brief moment James felt a hollow sense of being left out by his old friend. But, being James, he wasn't prepared to let the feeling linger and he whistled loudly to draw their attention.
Henry whistled back, smiling over him. "James! Thank you for taking the Kipper when I was out of action the other night."
James sighed. The Kipper was the last thing he wanted to think about right now. "Don't thank me, Henry. We both know I had no say in the matter."
"Well, I appreciate it all the same," grinned Henry. "If the train had been given to someone else, I would still be clearing up the mess now! I'm positive that Gordon does a bad job on purpose so the Fat Controller won't ask him again, and Emily..." He looked around the yard, watching Rosie as she moved away before lowering his voice. "Just between the two of us, Emily struggles with the Kipper. Hardly surprising, really, her class were never meant for such work."
"Flattered though I am by such high praise, I've no ambitions to replace you so if you could keep yourself out of the Steamworks for a while, I'd be much obliged." James told him.
Henry chuckled. "You stopped dead in front of me and left me with no option but to injure myself! As long as you don't make a habit of it, that will suit me fine."
Make a habit of it...
"I'm sorry?" Henry was frowning at him, and James realised that he must have repeated the words out loud.
Henry didn't remember. James had wondered for years whether he could recall which engine had pulled the train he had crashed into on that fateful night and now it seemed he had his answer. "You don't remember," he murmured.
"Remember what?" Henry looked perturbed.
And it didn't change anything. The damage had already been done and James was surprised to realise that what Henry knew or didn't know was actually pretty much irrelevant. He had reached a junction. Either he could attempt to gloss over his comment and his life could continue on in the same direction, or he could take another line: tell Henry and face up to the consequences.
And if Henry knew, then how could Nia hold the knowledge over him?
Perhaps James would have made a different decision if he had had a more restful night. Perhaps his anger at Nia clouded his judgement; perhaps he just wanted to feel that sense of control which constantly eluded him. Whatever the reason, he looked Henry squarely in the eye and said, "You've crashed into the back of a train pulled by me before and you don't remember it."
"Have I?"
It was too late to go back now. "When you crashed pulling the Kipper in '35. I was waiting in the siding with the goods train. How could you not know that? Surely someone must have mentioned it at some point?"
"I don't know. I hadn't really thought about it, to be honest. I remember Edward being there, after, so I suppose I thought..." Henry trailed off, lost in his own thoughts and staring past James with unseeing eyes.
"I'm sorry," James said quietly, after a decent pause during which he had tried not to feel too upset that Henry had given so little consideration to something which had dominated James's own thoughts for so long in the intervening period.
"Wasn't your fault," murmured Henry.
Why did everyone assume he blamed himself for the crash? "I know, that's not what I'm apologising for. I'm sorry for dragging it all up. You were having a perfectly nice day, and along I come and remind you of the worst accident you've ever been in."
"That's hardly likely to ruin my day," said Henry, nonplussed. "Yes, it was a dreadful experience but I got the rebuild out of it and so much time has passed since then that it doesn't distress me particularly to think about it. I imagine you feel much the same about the crash which happened when your brake blocks caught fire."
"That's not the same." James grimaced uncomfortably. He and Henry had been friends for decades but their relationship had never been one in which deep and meaningful conversations had been an important component. This was new territory. "You might have forgotten some of the details of that crash but I remember all of it. I know you think that I hate the Kipper because I consider myself to be too good for it, but that isn't the truth – well, not the whole truth, anyway."
Henry frowned again, puzzled. "Were you hurt that night?"
"No, not at all. But I thought I was witnessing your death, Henry. And I felt so... so useless. Every time I take the Kipper I remember exactly how that felt and it... affects my judgement, I suppose." James looked away, his cheeks burning more fiercely than his firebox. "Please don't think badly of me. I'm not trying to steal sympathy away from you. I don't want the others to know. Please don't mention this to anyone," he added hastily.
"James," said Henry, very seriously. "If every engine became distressed at the memory of accidents which had befallen their colleagues then no railway would be able to function."
"I know," James mumbled, trying to push aside the implication that there was something intrinsically wrong with him.
"It's a shame you weren't so concerned about my suffering before the Kipper crash."
The words were said lightly but James felt the full weight behind them. It seemed he wasn't the only engine holding onto some bitterness over events which had occurred aeons ago. "That's not fair," he protested. "Until you got the Welsh coal we had no way of knowing that you weren't shirking."
"You might have believed me rather than slandering me on a daily basis. Anyway, that isn't the point. I don't understand why you're telling me this now. If this has been going on for years, why haven't you said something before?"
"I can't keep making silly excuses to try to get out of pulling the train, can I? The Fat Controller told me to take a load of sardines yesterday and, well, I ran away. Hadn't had time to think up a good enough reason why I shouldn't take it and just... made a fool of myself. You know me, Henry, that's not how I like to be seen." James heaved a great sigh, one which threatened to rip the roof off Harwick School once again. "And Nia has worked out that vanity isn't the only reason that I hate taking the Kipper, so it's probably best that I tell you myself."
A thud sounded from somewhere behind Henry as Rosie added more trucks to his train. Realising that his departure was imminent, the larger engine pursed his lips thoughtfully. "I'm not sure what you expect me to do with this information, James."
"You can do what you like with it as long as you keep it to yourself," James replied, trying to sound casual.
Henry hummed in place of a response and pulled away. James watched him go with an odd mixture of relief and apprehension. He had imagined disbelief, indignation, possibly even scorn, but he hadn't foreseen bemusement. On reflection, it made perfect sense that Henry would react in such a fashion. Any engine would.
He felt his driver's hand resting gently on the side of his cab as he began to move in the direction of the water tower. It was surprisingly comforting, and the feeling multiplied as he caught the man's murmured, '"Well done, lad."
He couldn't wait to tell Nia.
XXX
Nia had spent the night at the Steamworks. Her crew had insisted upon on it, mainly to assuage their concerns about her breakdown but also in part because Edward's crew had impressed on them that the Fat Controller was likely to be more forgiving about the abandonment of her trucks if a mechanical fault was suspected to be the cause. She had managed to make it to Crovan's Gate under her own steam, to her great relief. The workers had inspected her thoroughly, monitoring her boiler pressure and checking her all over for damage. Eventually they had retreated, leaving her with Victor, and Nia had come to realise in fairly short order that the narrow gauge engine's role involved far more than shunting parts around the workshop. His careful, gentle questioning coaxed confidences from her, bringing to light her sorrow at leaving Kenya and the challenges of adjusting to life on a new railway in such an alien country. And, to her surprise, Nia discovered that there was another engine on Sodor who understood exactly how she felt. Although she had met Victor before, having been checked over before she was permitted to begin working on the NWR, it hadn't registered that he too wasn't British. The two had talked late into the night comparing their experiences, and Nia had to acknowledge that Victor had had a much more difficult time of it.
"You have an advantage over me, my friend," he told her gently. "You speak their language."
"You must have been so lonely," said Nia sympathetically. She had always felt sorry for works engines who didn't get to enjoy the freedom of long runs in the open air, but to be unable to communicate properly with one's new colleagues on top of that sounded dreadful.
"I had a lot to keep me busy," Victor replied. "Now I am settled here and I am as happy as I ever felt. Sodor is a wonderful place, Nia. You just need to give it a chance."
Nia had already decided to do just that. She had resolved to initiate a conversation with Emily at the earliest opportunity to signal that she wasn't as stand-offish as the green engine might have assumed. Now, as she cruised towards Knapford, she made a point of greeting every engine she encountered with a beaming smile and a few cheery words. It seemed to work for Rebecca.
Philip was the only engine in the yard when she arrived and he welcomed her with his usual exuberance. Smiling in response, Nia settled down to another day of shunting with a sense of relief. The familiarity of the yard felt oddly comforting after yesterday's excursion.
She kept an eye out for James as the day wore on, mindful of Edward's comment about the help he had offered after her breakdown. It was late afternoon by the time the red engine made an appearance and the first thing which struck her as he rolled slowly through the yard was how thoroughly weary he seemed. He didn't announce his arrival as expected. Her enthusiastic welcome sputtered out before it reached her lips and she approached him with concern. "James? Is everything all right?"
"Like you care," James growled, his eyes narrowing. The change was so abrupt that Nia was reminded of the sensation of colliding with a set of buffers forcefully enough to rebound backwards.
"Of course I care," she snapped. "Why the bad mood, eh?"
"You don't need to keep up the pretence any more. You got what you wanted." James lowered his voice, glancing in Philip's direction. "Was that your plan all along? To find an engine prepared to share his secrets and then to use them against him when it suited you? Is that how you persuaded Thomas to bring you to Sodor?"
Nia glared at him, her eyes flashing dangerously as her confusion gave way to anger. "What a ridiculous thing to accuse me of! I have done nothing of the sort!"
"Oh really?" James hissed. "'I keep his secrets.' Does that ring any bells?"
He had attempted to imitate her accent. Nia didn't understand the reference, although the alarmed muttering within her cab suggested that it meant something to her crew, but the mockery was like a torch flame searing into her boiler even as she swung back to confusion. "I do not know what you are talking about!"
"You told Edward that I had something to hide," James said, keeping his voice low to avoid being overheard even though it was clearly taking a lot of effort on his part to do so. "You may not have told him what that was, but you still betrayed my trust. Well, you needn't think your scheme is going to work any longer. I've told Henry everything, so you don't have anything to hold over me any more."
"You told Henry?" This was unexpected enough to warrant repeating. Nia wasn't entirely sure she had heard the words properly.
"Yes. Henry knows everything. Happy now?"
"Yes," said Nia simply. "I am happy that you are taking action rather than waiting for the problem to resolve itself."
James glared at her, his mouth twisting into a pout. "Oh yes, you're quite the expert, aren't you? You've known me for all of five minutes. The fact that you worked out that I hate the Kipper doesn't make you the superior engine, you know."
"You think you are better than me, eh?" Nia spat, her patience suddenly snapping. "I have travelled around the world, James! When my branch line closed, I didn't wait for someone to come along and save me, I saved myself! You pull a few passenger coaches on a tiny island and think you are something special, but you have no idea what I have been through. You think I need you? You know nothing!" And, without waiting for a response, she departed, ignoring Philip who called out in concern as she passed.
She managed to retain her composure until she reached the coal hopper next to Knapford Station, where she stopped to fill her bunker and to allow herself to mourn the demise of a friendship which she had genuinely cherished. It felt like yet another injustice in a long list.
A whistle sounded behind her: an unwelcome whistle, one which heaped insult on top of injury. Nia was sorely tempted to run away but she didn't have sufficient motivation – or, more importantly, coal – and so she remained stationery and silent as Rebecca skidded slowly past her and then reversed to the point where she had actually intended to stop.
"Good afternoon, Nia!" the larger engine called, radiating sunshine as usual. The beams dimmed as she caught sight of Nia's expression. "Oh... is everything all right?"
"Good afternoon, Rebecca," Nia replied, her voice sounding flat and mechanical. She didn't bother smiling. Rebecca smiled enough for two anyway.
Rebecca looked at her with concern. "You don't seem like you are having a good afternoon. Is there anything I can do to help? A problem shared, and all that...?"
"No. There is nothing you can do." She hadn't meant to put so much emphasis on the word 'you'. Nia couldn't help but feel guilty as she saw Rebecca's face fall.
"Oh. Right then. I suppose I'll..." Rebecca released her brakes, ready to move off, but then seemed to think better of it and applied them again. "Pardon me, but what have I done, Nia? You don't seem to like me but I honestly don't know why. If I've offended you or upset you I really would rather that you told me. I wouldn't want to accidentally do it again."
Nia looked at her in surprise. She had genuinely thought she had done a good job of hiding her resentment. "You have not done anything, Rebecca."
"You know, I was so pleased when the Fat Controller told me there was another new engine on Sodor," Rebecca said mournfully. There is no middle ground, Nia thought, she is always either delighted or depressed. "I thought, 'Yay, someone will understand exactly what I'm going through! I'll have a friend to share the experience with and it will make the move seem less scary.' It hasn't worked out the way I expected it to, has it?"
How could Nia feel anything but awful? "It is not your fault, Rebecca. I am sorry. I did not mean to be rude, you know?"
"I suppose you already had James. I'm actually quite jealous of what the two of you have. I wish I'd made such a good friend so quickly."
Nia let out a laugh which was virtually indistinguishable from a sob. "I don't think James wants anything to do with me at the moment."
Rebecca looked at her, wide-eyed. "Oh! Is that why you were upset? I'm sorry, Nia. I hope the two of you can sort the problem out, whatever it is."
"I'm not sure that will happen." Nia sighed. "Anyway, you have Gordon, eh?"
"Oh, Gordon isn't a friend, exactly. Not yet, anyway. I think he likes having someone to give instructions to. I like working with him but it's not the same."
"You will be all right. Everyone likes you." How bitter she sounded! Nia had always known that she wouldn't be able to keep up her bland façade forever. The mask had to slip eventually but now it seemed to have dropped to the rails and been crushed to smithereens beneath her wheels.
There was a pause before Rebecca said, "Is that why you don't?"
Amidst the wreckage of one friendship, with the knowledge that she would never see the engine who mattered most to her in world ever again, Nia decided that she owed to herself to salvage something from this relationship, flimsy though it might be. "I don't dislike you and I'm sorry that I gave you that impression. I have not treated you fairly, Rebecca. I was upset that the Fat Controller bought another engine so soon after I arrived on Sodor. It made me feel... unwanted. You have a proper job on this railway while I am just a spare engine. The only reason I am still here is because Thomas encouraged everyone to take pity on me."
Rebecca laughed, her expression brightening immediately. "Oh, but that's just not true, Nia! Hasn't anyone told you? I'm only here because of you!"
"Because of me?" Nia repeated in astonishment.
"You're a celebrity!" Rebecca told her, sunbeam smile firmly back in place. "When you and Thomas arrived back on Sodor the newspapers wrote loads of stories about the two of you and your adventures. Rail enthusiasts have been travelling from all over the place to see you both, especially those who want to see an engine all the way from Kenya. Passenger traffic has absolutely rocketed – that's why the Fat Controller added another express service and bought me to pull it!"
"Really?" Nia had encountered many people on Sodor who had seemed pleased to see her but she hadn't thought much of it. Thomas had told her that the local population were deeply fond of their engines, although he was famous, apparently, thanks to some old books and Nia had wondered whether his own experiences genuinely reflected those of the rest of the NWR fleet. "I thought people were just being nice because I am new."
"That's probably true as well," Rebecca conceded.
"Then why have I been left in the yard? If everyone knows what I am capable of, why not let me do something more, eh?"
"Oh well, you had sort of been stolen," said Rebecca carelessly. "The Fat Controller didn't want all of the enthusiasts to know that you were still on Sodor until he'd officially bought you. And I did hear that he wanted to give you some time to settle in to life in this part of the world before sending you out to do bigger jobs. I suppose he thought he was being kind."
"It would have been kinder to tell me! Did you know this?" Nia demanded, addressing her crew.
Rehema leaned from her cab. "Some of it," she admitted. "We knew that the Fat Controller didn't want to advertise your whereabouts because he wanted to save Isaac and I from trouble."
"So he does want me?" Nia was finding it hard to accept that everything she had fervently believed for the last few months had been wrong. "But he hasn't had the North Western Railway initials painted on me."
"I'm sure he wouldn't want to ruin your lovely paintwork," remarked Rebecca cheerfully. "Especially if it's part of your appeal for enthusiasts."
"Oh." Nia hadn't thought of this and now it had been pointed out to her, she felt rather silly. "I was painted like this to celebrate Kenyan independence in '64. I suppose the initials of a European railway would spoil the effect, eh?"
"Oh, definitely," Rebecca agreed. "Now, I'm sorry to be cheeky but have you finished with that coal hopper? The express is due out in 45 minutes and I do need a top up!"
"Thank you." Nia looked at the bigger engine hoping she looked sincere – after so many months of putting on an act around Rebecca, it felt odd to be honest around her. "You have made a difficult day much better."
Rebecca grinned. "Well, I have been told that I have a talent for doing that! See you later, Nia, I hope your day gets easier!"
And, for the first time that she could remember, Nia found herself returning Rebecca's smile in earnest.
XXX
"JAMES!"
Philip's shrill voice rang out clearly across the yard. James resisted the urge to grind his teeth together. "What is it?" he demanded, still seething after the confrontation with Nia. "I've got a train to take, I don't have time for idle chit-chat."
"What did you say to Nia?" The little boxcab was scowling fiercely up at him in a way that put James in mind of buzzing insect. Small and irritating. Not a bee, though. Bees hurt. Philip is harmless.
"That is a private matter and doesn't concern you," James informed him haughtily.
"Yes it does! Nia is my friend and she looked really upset. I'm not going to let you treat her badly, you know."
James rolled his eyes. "Edward really has got to you, hasn't he? Well, one of him is more than enough on this railway so clear off. This has nothing to do with you, Philip."
"But I thought Nia was your friend!" insisted Philip. "I don't know what you said to her just now but she was really upset."
"You don't know what she's done!" James objected.
"No, I don't," said Philip briefly, "but it doesn't matter. I know the sort of engine she is and I know you, and it just seems to me that it's most likely that you would be the one to cause trouble. I stood up to you yesterday when you were horrible to me and I'm standing up to you again now. Go and say sorry to Nia!"
There it was again: that slight flinch following his little speech. James's frown deepened and whatever he might have said in response was lost as his thoughts veered off course. "Why do you keep doing that?"
"Doing what?" asked Philip apprehensively.
"Wincing like that. Like you think I'm going to bash you off the rails or something."
Philip's silence spoke volumes and his expression grew more fearful as the seconds ticked by. In dismay, James realised that he had seen that look on the boxcab's face before: at the Great Railway Show when that big American engine with the bars across his face had chased the little diesel across the shunting yards.
"You can't possibly think that I'm going to hurt you," he said quietly.
"Well..." Philip chuckled nervously, his smile failing to reach his eyes. "You, um... you do get very angry sometimes."
"Not that angry." All of the annoyance had left James's voice. "I've never been that angry. That's utter boiler sludge." He paused. "Really? That's really what you think of me?"
"No-o." Philip hesitated. "Maybe? I know you don't like me."
James had been feeling awful all day out of guilt over his treatment of Edward but that faded in comparison with the horror he felt at this revelation. "I would never do anything like that to any engine," he said vehemently. "That's not who I am. It's not who I am at all. Ask anybody."
"Oh," said Philip awkwardly, starting to back away. "Well, that's good then."
James watched him go in deep dismay. He had never really thought much about Philip's desperate attempts to make friends with the bigger engines – it had been an irritation more than anything worthy of great consideration – but now he found himself wondering what kind of experiences the boxcab might have had on his previous railway, wherever that was. Why was he so anxious to be liked?
Perhaps they had more in common than James might have guessed.
And yet he thought him capable of violence, maybe categorising him alongside that American engine. They had worked together for some time now and still Philip had him all wrong. Clearly he wasn't as attuned to his public image as he had believed.
He had a lot to think about.
XXX
There was something comforting about the familiarity of the shed at Ffarquhar. Percy looked thoughtfully around the interior, enjoying the peace. A spider had set up residence in a corner above the doors.
He couldn't quite remember exactly why the branch line engines had moved out of the shed. He vaguely recalled Thomas feeling left out about something the Tidmouth engines had been discussing, although it also might have been connected to Edward moving back from Wellsworth. Toby had lost patience after one of their squabbles and admitted that he missed having a shed to himself. Percy would have quite happily stayed where he was but he had no desire to be left behind on his own.
He had told the third member of the Ffarquhar trio of Thomas's news earlier that morning. It wasn't fair to keep him in the dark now that the Main Line engines knew. Toby had mulled over this new development for a moment, then sighed. "Well on the plus side, I should be needed again. The Fat Controller's got me on a reduced timetable for some reason and I suppose he'll need me back at full capacity if Thomas is off again."
"Oh." Percy had looked at his friend with a guilty expression. It had slipped his mind that Toby had firsthand experience of what it meant to be unwanted. "I'm so sorry, Toby, that's probably my fault. I told the Fat Controller that I was tired and overworked and I wanted an overhaul."
"In those words?" Toby asked, amused.
"Well, not quite," Percy admitted. "But then he started asking questions about our workload and I just couldn't keep your name out of it. I didn't mean for him to reduce your timetable. I only wanted him to notice how hard we're been working."
"And still he's letting Thomas leave again?" Toby considered the news again. "What's got into him? He used to talk about this branch line as though it were more important than the East Coast Mainline."
"Ashima," answered Percy gravely.
Toby raised his eyebrows. "Oho, it's like that, is it? Goodness me, that complicates things rather. There'll be no arguing with him, then."
To Percy's mind this had sounded like an admission of defeat and, despite everything, he wasn't prepared to let Thomas go without some kind of a fight. If the Fat Controller had already agreed to the scheme then his options were limited but there had to be something he could do to impress on the blue engine that going to India was a bad idea. And so he had chosen to rest in the Ffarquhar shed while his crew took their afternoon break rather than wait on a siding in plain view. He needed a chance to give the matter some serious thought and that would only be possible without interruptions.
He hadn't been there long when his plan was thwarted. Percy had been lost in his thoughts and only slightly distracted by the spider. He had just registered the sound of chuffing outside the shed when the doors were thrown open to reveal Thomas's beaming face.
"Come with me," the blue engine said, slightly breathlessly.
Percy gaped at him. "Where? My crew are having their sandwiches."
"To India." Thomas grinned. "What could be better than travelling the world with my best friend?"
Percy's mood plummeted. "The Fat Controller would never agree to it."
"We haven't asked him yet."
"I asked him for an overhaul and he said no because Charlie is already out of action. He won't let two of us go to India and leave Toby on his own."
"Then we'll make sure Toby isn't on his own," Thomas urged. "I'm sure we could persuade the Fat Controller to find engines to cover for us if we try. He's done it before: remember how Pug and Jinty and the others covered for us when we all went to the Mainland?"
"I don't want to," said Percy bluntly. "I don't want to go to India. Or anywhere else that isn't on Sodor."
"Oh." Thomas's face dropped. "I just thought... I see."
"You don't," Percy told him, slightly more gently. "I think you sometimes forget that I had a life on the Mainland before the Fat Controller bought me. It's better here, Thomas. This is where I belong and I don't want to leave." And then, because old habits die hard, he added, "Sorry."
"Oh," repeated Thomas, looking away uncomfortably. There was a pause, then he looked back at Percy again curiously. "You asked for an overhaul? But you're not due one for ages."
"I'm tired," said Percy wearily. "I'm... put upon. All that extra work while you were away and the summer rush...and all of the worrying and trying to keep Annie and Clarabel from going to pieces over what might have happened to you and James having nightmares and waking me up at all hours – I was still taking the mail train, you know - and Mavis, she was so angry... I've had enough, Thomas. I just want a proper rest. I-I want someone to make a fuss of me."
He laughed shakily; how silly he sounded! Duck would probably tell him to buck up, but then Duck had said that it was reasonable for him to be upset when Thomas didn't consider his feelings so perhaps he would understand. "You probably think I'm being daft, don't you? But I just chuff around in the background, getting on with things while the Fat Controller's attention is all taken up with you and Gordon and James and new engines. No one notices me, not properly, even if they do praise me for doing a good job. They only notice when I get into accidents. They don't notice how tired and fed up I am. My feelings don't matter to anyone."
Thomas gave him a look heavy with guilt. "I'm so sorry, Percy. I never meant to make you feel like that. I just got...swept up in the moment and I didn't think any of it through."
Might as well get everything out in the open. "You didn't introduce me to Merlin."
"I couldn't. I didn't see you and Merlin in the same place at the same time."
"But you knew I wanted to meet him. I thought you might arrange something with the Fat Controller..."
Thomas groaned. "Not you as well, Percy! The Fat Controller isn't going to do anything just because I ask him to, despite what everyone thinks. The railway still needs to run."
"You asked him if you could go to India and he said yes," Percy said moodily. "I should think that asking if I could meet Merlin would be a much smaller thing to organise."
Thomas rocked uncomfortably on the rails. "Emily said you thought I was dead and you were grieving for me."
Percy paused, the heat of his anger suddenly dissipating. He hadn't realised that Emily was aware of that fact. Bloody Toby probably told her. So much for keeping a friend's confidences. "Well, how did you think I would react? James was having horrific dreams about the Steelworks so I could hardly help being worried. And now you're back and you keep talking about avalanches, and running out of water in the rainforest, and crashing in the desert. I was right, wasn't I? Bad things do happen if you go running off without a proper plan."
"I've learned my lesson," Thomas assured him. "I'll be more careful in future."
"You see, that's why you shouldn't go. You made all of those silly decisions, you caused the accidents. Nia has told us all about it. So we can't expect anything different if you go to India." Percy looked at his friend triumphantly. He was quite proud of that piece of logic.
Thomas looked back at him soberly. "I didn't think about any of that, you know. I'm used to Sodor and when things go wrong here, there's always someone to rescue us. But I have learned from it, honestly I have. That's why I asked the Fat Controller about going to India. I want everything to be organised properly this time."
"I should think at the very least you might ask me about going to India," Percy remarked grumpily.
"Would that make you feel better?"
"It would be a start."
"Oh. All right then." Thomas eyed him apprehensively. "May I go to India for a while? Just as a promotional visit?"
"You may," said Percy magnanimously.
Thomas looked quizzically at him. "That's... that's it?"
"Well, I can't say no, can I? It's too late. You're going anyway. You don't want to be here so what use is it if I say I don't think you should go?"
"I do want to be here," said Thomas quietly. "Sodor is my home too. But I want to see some different places too. Can't I want both of those things?"
"That's how people think," said Percy darkly.
"So?"
"So you're not a person, are you? It's dangerous for engines to think like people. You could cause all kinds of trouble."
Thomas sighed. "Edward thinks I should go. He says I might come to resent being here if the opportunity is there and I don't take it."
That settled it, then. In comparison with Edward's pearls of wisdom his own advice was mere grit. "But why now?" he asked resignedly. "Don't you want the branch line any more?"
"Of course I do! This branch line is the best place in the world!" declared Thomas staunchly. "I've just realised something over the last few years, Percy. How long do you think the Fat Controller will be our controller for?"
Percy stared at him, wide-eyed. "Is he leaving? Has he said something to you?"
"No, no, it's nothing like that," Thomas hastened to reassure him. "But he has been in charge for quite a while now, and humans don't live forever."
"He still seems to be going strong to me," Percy said thoughtfully.
"Well, yes," admitted Thomas. "I'm not worried because I think he's going to leave soon, I just know it will happen one day."
"We've been through it before," Percy reminded him. "Everything was fine last time."
"For you, maybe. I'd never really known another controller. And if someone else takes over, they might treat us differently-"
"Ah, that's it, isn't it?" chuckled Percy knowingly. "You think you won't be allowed to go rolling off all around the world with another person in charge!"
"Probably not," Thomas acknowledged, "but that's only part of it."
Percy raised an eyebrow. "Ashima?"
"Ashima," Thomas confirmed, blushing wildly. "Percy, if you had the chance to go and see Gator, wouldn't you take it?"
"No," said Percy firmly. "I would love to see Gator again but what I really want is for him to return to Sodor. I'd be delighted if the Fat Controller bought him..." An idea struck him and he glared at Thomas. "Are you trying to get Ashima to come back to Sodor with you?"
"No!" Thomas exclaimed. "I hadn't even thought of that!"
"You brought Nia back," Percy pointed out in an accusatory tone.
"That was different. Nia didn't have anywhere to return to. Her branch line was closed and her shed was demolished so she decided to follow me. I didn't rescue her, Percy, despite what everyone seems to think. Ashima was proud to be representing the Indian Railway when we saw her at the Great Railway Show so as far as I can tell, she's happy with her life. I can't imagine that she'd want to leave."
Percy became aware of a sensation similar to that when a sticking part was oiled, as though friction had suddenly eased and everything was moving smoothly again. He hadn't realised that this had been troubling him but clearly it had, and he was relieved. Whatever Thomas's motives, he didn't intend to replace him.
The spider had descended from its corner and was now hanging between the two engines. Percy watched it twisting in the air. "All right," he said, reluctantly. "I'll back you up."
Thomas, who had also been focussing on the spider, looked past it to his friend. "You don't have to."
"I know. I don't think you should go but I'll back you up anyway because that's the decent thing to do. But I'll do it on condition that you start behaving more like a friend should. Including me in things and taking me seriously and... not treating me like a silly little engine."
"I don't think of you that way," Thomas returned solemnly.
"Prove it, then." Duck would be proud of him. He had almost forgotten how good it felt to speak his mind, certain that he deserved to be heard. The problem hadn't really been Thomas, had it? It had been Percy himself who had allowed his confidence to take such a battering. He had played the role of the naïve, confused subordinate so convincingly that he almost started to believe that it was true.
"I will," Thomas said, determination ringing clear in his voice. "Thank you, Percy. I am sorry that you've felt unappreciated. James was right when he said that you don't get enough recognition for being a good branch line engine."
Percy smirked. "Better than you," he said cheekily.
Predictably, Thomas bristled indignantly at this. "Sez you!" he retorted.
"Sez James, actually," pointed out Percy airily. "And Mr Percival. You should probably have a chat with Annie and Clarabel, just to see which engine they prefer now they've had a chance to properly compare us."
Thomas snorted. "Carry on like this and the Fat Controller will transfer you off the branch line. Your smokebox is so inflated that you're at risk of getting stuck in Hackenbeck Tunnel!"
"Better that than getting stuck in a stationmaster's front wall!"
He had missed this, and yet it was so easy to fall back into the old pattern of good-natured squabbling. Percy suppressed a grin. He felt better than he had done for ages.
Author's Note:
Apologies for the HUGE wait between chapters! This was supposed to be the final installment but I left myself too much to do so there is one more still to come. The main problem about not having time to write is that I end up with more time to think about the story instead and end up wanting to add more ideas into the original plan. It's a vicious circle. I promise I'll reveal all about BoCo's whereabouts next time.
While Panicky Percy is a dreadful episode and I'm not going to attempt a fix-it because it's beyond salvaging, I've tried to hint at an explanation for his behaviour that's in-keeping with my take on this period of the CGI era. Just for clarity, Philip really does flinch during the confrontation with James on the bridge in Apology Impossible (go on, watch it again to check, I dare you). It's a fascinating little moment.