Before anyone on the Island knew it, the week before Christmas was upon them. Winter had been a mild affair in the traditionally colder months, but as the approaching Holiday dawned ever closer, the bite in the air was a consistent presence. Vicarstown was bustling with people to-ing and fro-ing amongst the mammoths of steam ushering the traffic to their next destinations. Families were waiting, shopping was to be done, and yet between the forth and fifth platforms, a group of people were huddled inside the spacious cab of Number 22 in front of the open firebox doors.
A roaring inferno swirled about the coals as Henry thrust another shovelful of coal bruskly into the embers. His breath hanging fog-like in the air as Murdoch clapped him on the shoulder in appreciation.
"Good man. Been wondering when it would start to feel like the season."
Molly tangled her hands in her yellow handkerchief before mouthing hot air into the cloth. Her work overalls barely visible from her long gray overcoat she'd worn in. She inched another step closer to the fire. Next to her Rebecca moved to push her shoulder against Molly's shivers, laughing as she rubbed her own digits together.
"Aren't you from up north Molly? Cold shouldn't bother you!"
"Speak for yourself. Cold is cold wherever you are."
The two laughed as Murdoch craned his neck outside the cab at the sound of an approaching horn. The Metropolitan Diesel-Electric billowed a hearty cloud of smog as it down-shifted to slow to the bordering platform.
"About time Boco got here." Henry stated as he peered over Murdoch's shoulder to the trackline.
Henry, Murdoch, and Boco had brought both Rebecca and Molly into the fold with their scheme to smuggle Number 3 back onto Sodor. The five-some had been having impromptu meetings for the past several days. The plan was nearly ready, just a few key details to arrange.
Boco stepped lively from the cab of the Class 28 and strode across the platform and up the cab steps into Number 22, making the space slightly more crowded than previous.
"Bother that junction signal at Barrow." Boco fumed. "It's never been reliable, and with the morning frost being so heavy now, it's completely unreliable."
Murdoch laughed and passed a thermos they'd all been sharing.
"Warm yer bones mate. You'll feel better I promise."
The rich hot chocolate mixed with the hint of Bailey's sent a shiver down the diesel driver's spine as he smacked his lips gratefully.
"You said we were out!" A ruffled Rebecca smacked Henry on the shoulder before holding an expectant hand to Boco for her turn.
"I said that so all of us could have some." Henry smirked.
Rebecca glowered from over the top of the thermos rim as Murdoch gently cleared his throat to refocus everyone's attention.
"So… I think you'll be happy to hear my news." He started earnestly.
Everyone's eyes fixated on his hulking frame as he dug in his lambskin coat for a document. Upon retrieving it, he held it stretched out for all to see as he explained the significance.
"That couple of axle boxes and the brake rigging Henry and Molly salvaged really started a chain. We traded up at Bristol for the two pistons and reverse rod, and as you know we recently off-loaded those on Boco's run up to Crewe for the Bellpaire firebox housing. Pairing that wiith your recent steal…"
Murdoch looked to Henry and Rebecca who had 'accidentally' caused a valve burst in Number 22 last week. The following leak lead to the Victor ordering all new super heating tubes for the boiler. Henry and Molly had then saved and repaired the old ones to be traded.
After Henry had felt confident in Molly's trustworthiness, he had explained his situation to her and queried about her interest in helping. She was intrigued at the idea of doing a secret overhaul, and had since been incredibly useful in procuring parts and handling a bulk of the western repair work while Henry made headway in traveling back and forth to Number 3 to finish final preparations.
Boco and Murdoch had been tirelessly tuning the Black 5 back to working order, the bulk of the work now complete except for a boiler. Once assembled and steaming correctly, the engine would be as good as new. Henry knew if they could just show off a working locomotive, any inspector would have to allow the engine to pass and be fit for duty.
"...We have now acquired a boiler! Deed in hand, trade finalized!"
As the other four inspected the document Murdoch held, it was in fact a deed of sale for a Stanier boiler.
Henry's smile was uncontained as he looked around at the incredible people grinning back at him.
"Well…" Murdoch said expectantly.
Henry was at a loss of words.
"Let's just call it a Christmas Miracle." Rebecca cheered as she raised the thermos in the air.
"We're in the homestretch." Boco murmured. "I'll get in touch with my connections in the Midlands and see if we can't find an inspector who's…. Easily persuaded."
"Sounds rather sinister" Murdoch spoke hesitantly.
"I haven't any idea what you mean." Boco chuckled.
"Thank you… everyone… thank you so much."
Henry's voice was strained as he ran a hand through his hair. His gratitude hard to contain but impossible to express.
Murdoch and Boco gave nods of knowing appreciation. Rebecca softly wrapped an arm around Henry's as Molly beamed at him and addressed the group with her hands on her hips.
"Great timing with that piece of paper there Murdoch. Such good news I almost forgot how cold it was!"
A brisk gust sent chills up her spine as she shivered and wrapped herself in a hug.
"Almost."
Duck tightened his knit brown scarf around his neck as Number 8 waddled along the line at a disparate pace. The steady chuffing of the steam exhaust rhythmically paired with the sloshing of the water tanks as the engine maintained its usual rocking.
A small snow flurry had started its descent and Duck hoped to be to Callum station before the tracks became too icy. Toddling along the coast, Duck watched as rough seas crashed against the deserted beaches. The graying skies were ominous before being briefly obscured by the rock arch before the bend.
Duck checked his gauges and looked back at the swaying coaches behind him.
"Steady on. We'll make it."
Reducing speed, he closed the regulator slightly and let the steam hiss from the engine as he drifted Number 8 around the bend and caught sight of the station ahead. He untensed his shoulders and kicked his prosthetic leg against the back wall of the cab. His knee was always stiff in cold weather.
As he drew closer he checked back out the cab window. Passengers lined the platform, but off to the side in the visible parking lot, stood a double decker bus. The man Oliver had dubbed 'Bulgy' stood on the hood with a bullhorn yelling. Even at this far of a draw distance, Duck could make out his words.
"End railway tyranny! Free the roads!"
"So you and Rebecca hmmm?" Molly inquisitioned as she took a hearty chunk out of her apple.
Henry and she sat in the Tidmouth Breakroom for their lunch break. They were currently inspecting and attempting to deduce a squeak coming from Number 5. And James had been adamant that he needed his engine as soon as possible. So naturally Henry had decided he and Molly should take a long lunch.
Henry choked, surprised at the question. Taking a swig from his tea, he gasped exasperatedly and attempted a deep breath before trying to answer. Molly methodically continued her chewing as she watched the dramatic display.
"So you aren't with Rebecca then?"
Henry pinched the bridge of his nose before meeting her eyes, his own red and streaming from the mis-inhale.
"It's.. complicated."
"So you are together."
Henry's brow furrowed as he tried to pick his words carefully.
"We aren't… defined. Or at least we aren't official I guess?"
"You mean you haven't gotten up the guts to ask her yet."
Molly's blunt transparency was something Henry both admired and despised about her.
"Sure. Let's go with that."
"Well what's stopping you?"
"From finishing lunch? You asking these questions."
Molly's nose scrunched up as she frowned at Henry's humor. He sighed and set his sandwich down as he explained.
"If you haven't noticed, I've been preoccupied. Right now my life is just really inconsistent."
Molly surveyed him as she took a moment to swallow another chunk of apple.
"Well, not that i'm telling you what to do–"
"Sounds like you are."
"-- but, I'd get my life together sooner rather than later. Someone like her won't wait around forever."
The two ate silently for the remained of the meal. James abruptly ending their stagnation with an afronted burst through the door.
Duck braked to a standstill and Number 8 wheeshed intently as he stepped off the footplate.
"Fight the transportation monopoly! Don't be slaves to timetables!"
"Pfft. Stuff and nonsense." Duck felt his annoyance growing. He started through the throngs of people toward the exit ramp into the parking lot. As he pushed through to the center of the commotion, Bulgy caught him in his sights and began his verbal assault.
"There's the oppressor now! Holding you hostage to his schedule! Out of date and always late. OUT OF DATE AND ALWAYS LATE!"
Duck couldn't feel the chill anymore as his blood boiled. A few outliers had picked up the chant and had started jeering along with Bulgy.
"OUT OF DATE AND ALWAYS LATE."
"I'LL HAVE YOU KNOW I ARRIVED RIGHT ON TIME AND RELIABLY! AT LEAST I'M PROVIDING A SERVICE INSTEAD OF LOITERING IN CAR PARKS!"
Duck was shouting himself hoarse over the bullhorn, but to no avail. He stared at Bulgy hard as he continued to be harassed. It was then Duck noticed what could only be the last signs of a healing black eye under Bulgy's left pupil. He could only hope the hit had hurt as much as he wanted to make the man feel now.
It was then Duck heard his guard's whistle and realized he had to depart. Rushing back toward Number 8, he swore under his breath as the chanting stuck in his head.
"Out of date and always late."
The evening grays were slowly blackening as the sun descended somewhere behind the clouds. Henry gave a solid wave from his spot leaning against Rebecca's car trunk. They were exchanging Christman gifts and he'd just gotten hers wrapped today after days of agonizing over what to give her. He fumbled the wrapped box into his pocket in an effort to maintain some level of surprise. Rebecca had just finished looking over Number 22 after turning it into the shed for the night. Her freezing hands stuffed into her coat, she quickened her paced to a light jog as she made her way over. Her smile was contagious as she entered the ring of light coming from the pole above.
"I don't think you're at all ready." Rebecca giddily joined him against her trunk.
"That's been the trend today." Henry said flatly. But Rebecca's energy was infectious and his own smile returned as he fiddled with the box in his pocket.
"You have to go first." Rebecca was practically shaking with excitement. "Because I know I'm going to win."
"Is that so?" Henry felt his cocked eyebrow fly into his hairline. He smirked before withdrawing the box from his jacket pocket and passing it to Rebecca. The small yellow rectangle was bound by a white ribbon. Rebecca took it gently and held it to her ear.
"Can I shake it?"
"Just open it." Henry laughed.
He watched as she slid the white ribbon off the box. She tucked the ribbon in the breast pocket of her boilersuit before slowly taking off the lid. She slipped her index finger under a thin gold chain and lifted the links up until the main trinket was exposed.
Hanging from the chains was a small polished connecting pin. No more than 7mm in length, she held it aloft and inspected it. Her eyes wide with fascination.
"An engine can't work unless every part is present and contributes, no matter how small. Every piece is important. Just like you. I hope you'll see this connecting pin as a means of knowing that you are important… to me." Henry finished lamely.
His clunky explanation wasn't what he'd rehearsed, but Rebecca's kind eyes softened as she gingerly lifted the chain over her head and let the pin rest on her chest. She looked down admiring it before raising her gaze to meet Henry's.
"That means a lot, Henry. I love it, really." She smiled sweetly. A light blush emanating from her cheeks.
The two stood eying each other until Rebecca gasped in realization.
"Oh!! I nearly forgot yours!!! Here! Open it quickly!"
Rebecca thrust a long, thin, black box toward him. She rocked on the balls of her feet excitedly as Henry weighed the parcel in his palm. Despite the general size, the weight was hefty as he shifted it back and forth.
"Let me guess… it's a…. Hmmm…. Could it be…"
Rebecca was nearly grinding her teeth in anticipation as Henry drew the moment out longer and longer.
"OPEN IT ALREADY! GAH YOU'RE SO FICKLE!"
Henry belly-laughed as Rebecca was practically opening the gift herself. He rested his other hand on the lid and awkwardly wiggled the airtight fit back and forth. The lid inched its way off the box until at last it was open. The brilliance of the metal inside caught Henry off guard as he read the inscription on the oval copper inside.
His name embossed the top line as the large Number 3 was capped between the current year. It was a builder's plate. A declaration that Henry had engineered the restoration, repair, and rebuild of Number 3. This insignia would be displayed on Number 3 and make the overhaul official. Everyone who saw the engine would know it was scratch built by Henry himself. He carefully lifted the plate from the box and held it to the light.
Rebecca watched him apprehensively before describing her intent.
"I just thought it was a fitting final piece after all your hard work."
Henry, enamored by the builder's plate, returned it to its cushioned spot in the box before wrapping an arm around Rebecca's waist and pulling her to him. His lips finding hers as he felt his world find serenity for the first time in ages.
Duck was exhausted as he drove Number 8 back along the coastal route on the return path to Tidmouth Hault. Once the Pannier was in its berth in the shed, he could finally go home and rest after the trying day he'd been through.
His eyes half lidded, he passed through the rocky canyon outside Callum and was back along the shoreline. He opened the regulator and heard the grinding of the wheels losing their grip. He attempted to engage the sanding gear as he jutted forward from the rims re-gripping the track. He closed the regulator off as he fought for control. The wheels slid over the icy rails once more at full stop as the ties buckled.
Duck didn't get the chance to pull the brake as the engine careened off the sleepers and ballast. The wheels pounded the rocky ground as Duck grappled with the controls for balance. His hand released the throttle and the Pannier's wheels began to spin aimlessly as the engine shifted past the gravel and onto the sand of the beach. The wet grains swallowed the wheels on the right side of the engine, causing Number 8 to tip.
Duck grabbed the water gauge in his hand as the engine topped sideways. The sloshing in the water tanks gave extra inertia for the engine to lose its balance. As the side of the engine impacted the ground, Duck heard a distinct 'crunch' as he watched his prosthetic leg get smashed and cut clean by the running board. His harness must have unsecured itself in the jostling.
As the engine came to a standstill on its side. Duck released his grips and fell, off-balance, to the sandy ground impacted by his cab opening. He felt a sharp pain in his right hand. He looked down to see glass from the water gauge impaled into his palm from where he'd shattered meter in his grip.
But he was alive. And he allowed himself to breathe as he slumped against the footplate.
A shorter chapter this time around. Needed to put some plot into action =) Excited to keep up with the outline. As always thanks for reading! -REN