A/N: Backstory on this saga, in June I decided to have a go at fully doing art, drawing and then colouring it and setting the tones for it. I then end finishing an art piece of James crossing a bridge at night with the Mail train. I was so pleased by it that I decided to do a story for it and one thing led to another and here we are with a saga! This story was written straight after doing the art too, so it's was very old when I first published it lol.

James and the Mail Train - Part 1

1975

On a clear summer's night, when the moon is up at it's highest, you can often hear the sounds of an engine steaming through the night with the clattering of massive vans behind him. These are the sounds of James the Red Engine pulling the Sudrian Owl.

The Sudric Owl was Sodor's express mail train, which ran across the North Western mainline from Tidmouth, to Vicarstown, and back again. Sir Topham Hatt I had ordered for it since the LMS agreement which happened in 1925 and mail trains have been running ever since. James had been given the service by Sir Topham Hatt I after the original engine was sent away and he was did such a good job that both Fat Controllers thought it be best for the red engine to stay on the run even when there were much more powerful engines in their disposal.

James took great pride in this service and felt a great set of responsibility. He loved running down the mainline with headlamps swaying and silent moon beaming down at him, helping him guide the way. "Nothing is quite like it!" he would say, "Gordon has his express, Henry has his fish train, whilst I have the most honourable job of all! Pulling the mail!"

"Our jobs are important too," scoffed Henry, "your's just makes your paintwork look generic."

James scowled indignantly. "You're just jealous," he said, "my train is important! Your's is just smelly old fish!"

Henry huffed and rumbled away.

One night though, as James' train was getting ready for another train. The foreman came up to his driver at the footplate. "You must wait until number eight arrives from the Little Western," he ordered, "there's some mail vans that he's bringing in from his branch line that need to be put on his train."

James complied and waited patiently for the Great Western engine to arrive. But when he did, he was shocked to find Duck not only pulling two mail vans, but fish vans tailing behind them as well.

"What's the meaning of this?" James demanded.

Duck looked puzzled. "I only brought the mail vans that I was asked to bring," he replied.

"Silly," said James, "why do you have fish vans with you?"

"I always bring fish vans as my final run here," Duck said, "they aren't pleasant to smell at but I don't mind the quiet runs at night."

"Barbaric!" exclaimed James, "I don't want smelly fish getting all over my letters and parcels, let alone the mail vans!"

"It's not that bad," scoffed Duck, "this fish isn't that bad anyways and besides I'll be seeing you next week at the same time again so you might as well get-"

"What?!"

"Haven't you heard?" scoffed Duck, "summer holidays are more busier than usual meaning more mail than usual. So Royal Mail has signed a contract with the Fat Controller so that I will bring a ton of mail here to the docks twice a week with the train of fish I bring for Henry's kipper."

James wheeshed steam crossly. "That's ludicrous!" he said.

"You can ask the Fat Controller yourself," replied Duck, "then we'll see who's the ludi-ludi-ludicransy."

James only glared at Duck as the Great Western engine shunted his vans to the back of the train. The red engine then set off into the night, he still wasn't impressed with the new arrangement and was in a fowl mood for the entire trip to Vicarstown and back again.

He was still in a bad mood the next morning and gave his complaints to Gordon at the coaling plants.

"A splendid engine with a splendid train needs to be treated professionally," he grumbled, as coal was spill out of the shoot and into his tender, "having fish vans being dragged behind mail vans is not professional."

Gordon groaned.

"The Sudric Owl isn't something to look down upon! It's very important for people to have their letters and parcels be delivered and-"

"James," cut in Gordon, "do be quiet. It's not that big of a deal, the smell of fish is on the vans, not the actual letters and parcels, get that into your smokebox."

The big, blue engine puffed away, leaving an engine which cheeks matched his paintwork.

James hoped that Duck wouldn't bring in the mail vans again the next time the train ran, but unfortunately for him, the Great Western engine pulled up next to him with the vans in tow. And it happened with the next night, then the next, and the next. Soon, James was getting fed up with the smell of fish coming near his mail vans.

He began complaining about it again a week and half later into the new arrangement. The other engines didn't care whatsoever, they just ignored him. But one engine took pity on the red engine, that engine, was Alice. She listened carefully to James grumble about Duck and the fish vans and would always try to sympathise with him when he would stop to breath after another rant.

"-It's just disgusting how they're treating my train," finished James crossly.

"I'm sure it's only a short time only," reassured Alice, "so once the summer season has gone, you can go back to your usual runs."

"I hope so," said James, "otherwise, my vans would be smelling just as bad as those vans!"

"You're a smart engine James," Alice smiled, "I think you can figure something out."

And with that, the Atlantic engine moved out of the shed. Now Alice was a kind engine and didn't like to see any engine unhappy, but she didn't realise that she accidentally planted some ideas into James' smokebox.

"I can get rid of that dratted smell," he smirked, "I'll show that Duck. I'll show him!"

The next night, James came to the goods platform near the docks. Sacks of letters and parcels were being packed all into the rick red vans, and James sizzled nicely. He was soon coupled up and looked at the signal which showed a blocked path. Duck would be soon approaching with the mail vans and the smelly fish vans.

'Not long now,' thought the red engine. Suddenly, he heard a whistle that sounded very much like Duck's. Then, the signal ahead showed green, his driver and fireman were in his cab and all of his vans were shut tightly. Now was his chance.

"Come on! Come on! Come on!" he barked to the mail vans and started off quickly, just as Duck came around the corner and into sight. The Great Western engine was most surprise, so was his crew and didn't have time to react.

But then there was trouble. James had started too quickly and a sudden clank echoed through his heavy steam, James felt himself become very weak indeed and felt himself being pulled back by the shocked and gossiping vans. Steam hissed out of one of his pistons and his driver got out of the cab and stormed around to him and pointed his finger at him.

"You silly engine," he scolded, "you were trying to leave before Duck arrived so not to take the mail vans he brought in, and all because they had a weak smell of fish at the back of your train! Isn't it?"

James blushed in embarrassment, whilst his driver placed his fingers on his temple and sighed. Duck's driver came up. "If you like, we can shunt him in a siding so you can have more time to cool him down," he suggested. James' driver nodded solomely.

"Not much we can do after that," he said, "I think James, cracked a screw and that could be easily replace in under an hour, I just don't know what to do with this mail train though, it'll be quite a long while before James is back up and running and we people need there letters and parcels delivered."

Then James' driver looked past James' configuration, and at Duck, his face then lit up with an idea popped inside his head. He explained to Duck's driver and he agreed, then they both strode over to the Great Western engine.

"I'm afraid there's no other engine but you to pull the Sudric Owl," said the driver to his engine, "I was hoping to go back to Arlesburgh light engine but I guess that won't be the case. Are you sure you can managed?"

"I'll do my best!" smiled Duck confidently. Both drivers nodded at each other and soon enough, everything was arranged, James was put into a siding with the fish vans, whilst Duck's mail vans were put behind the train and the Great Western engine now resided at the front of the train, feeling a little nervous. He wasn't as fast as James, nor had enough traction power either.

But goods news soon occurred as a foreman came up to his driver at the footplate. "A message has been sent down the line about the switch around," stated the foreman, "and Wellsworth's stationmaster has said he would make sure that BoCo can be ready at that station once you've arrived."

"You here that old boy?" chuckled Duck's driver, "you won't have much of a distance or challenge as expected."

"That's good news," Duck sighed.

Everything was ready a minute later, Duck's headlamps were put to the express code with the signature headboard put in front of his funnel, the guard showed his green lamp, and Duck was off.

"Come on! Come on! Come on!" he puffed to the mail vans.

"Alright! Alright!" replied the mail vans as they were pulled towards the mainline.

They soon coasted over the points and Duck began to ease off, going faster and faster. Not as James and with a train much longer and heavier than what he usually pulled, it didn't really help. But the Great Western engine did his best and the mail vans ran smoothly behind him.

He reached Thomas' junction with care, rattled through the countryside and waited patiently at Crosby the loading and unloading of mail and ran along the rails with triumph in his steam along the final stretch. He arrived at Edward's station, breathless, but pleased with himself. BoCo the Big Diesel was there as well as Weighty the Brake Tender, on the banker's siding waiting patiently.

"Well done lad!" called Weighty, "must've taken a lot of effort to take that sort of train along the rails with ya!"

"We heard about you taking the train as soon as we were ordered to get out of the shed," explained BoCo, "I must congratulate you on this as well!"

Duck blushed bashfully. "Well... if you want, you can have the headboard," he said.

"Goodness me no!" laughed BoCo, "headboards don't suit us diesels as well as you steam engines! Besides, it'll take time and we don't want this train to be even later than it has before!"

"Yes indeed!" agreed Duck and they quickly switched around. Both BoCo and Weighty said goodbye to the Great Western engine and Duck puffed quietly into the sheds where Edward was fast asleep. His fireman damp down his fire, and his crew then walked off to the station building where they would spend the night.

Duck then closed his eyes and went happily to sleep.

*

A whistle and the clattering of rolling stock moving quickly along the rails woke Duck up, the morning sun was beginning to shine and the Great Western engine blinked profoundly. With his eyes narrowed, he saw the remainder of the Flying Kipper thundering towards Gordon's Hill. Duck didn't much bother about it though, knew that Henry couldn't help it and went back to sleep.

*

A few hours later, Duck had been turned around and was waiting patiently in the yards for his return trip back to the big station, light engine. The headboard still remained on top of him and his fireman examined it carefully whilst the driver walked up to join with a mug of coffee in his hand.

"Does look wonderful on him," muttered the fireman, the driver nodded. Duck could only worry about one thing.

"Are you sure Oliver and Douglas will be fine without me?" he asked worriedly.

"Oliver and Douglas are reliable engine," replied the driver, still staring at the headboard, "I'm sure they'll be fine for just this morning, let's just focus on getting you back to Tidmouth!"

"And not the headboard?"

"Oh! Yes! Definitely not the headboard!" The driver quickly glanced away and walked back to the cab sipping his coffee.

Suddenly, Duck heard a whistle coming from Gordon's Hill, he glanced back curiously, it sounded quite odd for him, since it sounded like James! But it James. Puffing into the station platform with a passenger train right behind him with the stench of fish coming along too. Duck cringed. "Why are you hear James?" he asked curiously.

James said nothing, he just turned red and looked the other way, but it was his driver who spoke. "It was just a loose screw that James manage to push out of his piston!" he called, "once we did that and steamed him back up, the foreman asked us to pull the Flying Kipper instead of Henry so to waste time in getting the big green up!"

Duck chuckled lightly, then noticed James looking up at the headboard on top of him. "Oh!" Duck gasped, "I should give you this back now, shan't I?"

"Don't bother!" called James' driver, "when we got to Vicarstown, we got word from Tidmouth that the Fat Controller is not pleased with James' actions and is switching around the timetable so that Henry will pull the Sudric Owl and James to pull the Flying Kipper for at least month!"

Duck chuckled even more. "Oh dear!" he said cheekily, "I'm guessing the mail vans won't be taking the smell of fish with them! But it would be you instead James!"

Both crews laughed, whilst James let off steam angrily. He heard the guard's whistle, saw the signal drop green and moved out of the station, as quickly as he dared.