Thomas drummed his fingers on the lip of Number 1's cab entrance. He'd left his trusty Hornby magazine on his dresser in the haze of his rush morning routine. As he waited at Elsbridge for Number 5 to make any appearance to keep his connection on time, he felt his patience waver.
Percy, who was shunting in Number 6 on an adjacent line from Thomas's spot at the platform, gave a cheery wave as he leaned out the cab jovially. Thomas returned it with a brief raise of his hand before he scanned the bend ahead once more.
"Where is that stuck-up show pony." Thomas thought. His temper rising as James made him later still.
Number 6 bumped the wagons before it hard. The brake rigging creaked as if the freight itself was groaning from the mistreatment. The jolt had apparently surprised Percy as well. A surprised, "Oh Dear!" snapped Thomas from his penetrating eyeline at the track bed, to swivel in the cab to see Percy dangling from the handrails, cabside, of Number 6.
As easily as he'd fallen out, Percy launched himself back into the cab and yanked the brake on. With a stuttering halt, the saddle tank of Number 6 jutted still. The wagons, embracing their inertia, rolled onward and collided into the buffer stop at the end of the siding.
Percy looked back toward Thomas, cap askew, giving a relieved thumbs up. Thomas half-heartedly returned it. Only the oncoming blast of a familiar whistle perked Thomas back at full attention as his connecting train steamed up alongside him.
James looked haggard as Number 5 braked steadily and wheeshed in completion as the doors of its coaches opened and the passengers began rushing out toward the walk-across.
Thomas wasted no time relaying his irritation as he bruskly approached the opposite cab opening and called across to James.
"Where have you been! At this point I'll be lucky to make up any time at all!"
James huffed loudly as he ripped his red handkerchief from his neck and wrung the sweat out of it over the ballast outside his engine. Replying haughtily, he glared Thomas down with a disdainful sneer.
"Don't look at me! Old lazy bones Edward was an entire hour late coming up from Suddery. You're lucky I'm here only fifteen past!"
Thomas fumed. James redirecting the blame wasn't satisfying when Thomas knew it was an uphill battle to end his train on time today.
"Guess I'm not surprised that you'd only pick up some of the slack. Looks like it's up to me to keep this railway running."
And as the guard's whistle blew, Thomas grasped the throttle and lurched Number 1 forward from the platform before James could even hope to get the last word. And as Percy stepped onto the platform and waved to Number 5's driver, the unrelenting barrage of insults ensued.
Gordon stepped onto platform one at Knapford proud but tired as his first express trip of the day concluded. Before taking the afternoon run he figured a quick lunch and maybe a spot of tea in the break room would be just the perk up he needed. Opening the door, Gordon was surprised at the welcome he received.
"Well hello Gordon. Come have a seat!"
Henry and the woman Gordon had seen at Awdry's several nights prior were sitting at the round sitting table in the center of the room, blueprints and papers splayed all across the surface. As he approached, Henry began shuffling the documents back toward him to clear a spot.
"Gordon, nice to see you again."
Molly smiled as she pulled a few blueprints her way as well, speeding up the cleaning process.
"Molly am I right? Pleasure as well."
"Oh you two have met?" Henry asked curiously. A sly grin breaking across his face as Gordon's brow furrowed.
"Briefly." Gordon sullied as Molly raised an affronted eyebrow.
"Only in passing really." She coupled nonchalantly and faced Henry once more, resuming their previous conversation.
" As I was saying, we can skip going over the Caldonian and any Gresley designs. I'm already familiar with their make-ups from my time at Doncaster."
Gordon had grabbed a cup of tea from the range and hastily came back to take a seat.
"And just what are we discussing here in regards to Doncaster?"
His eyes fell on the blueprints Molly had her hand on. The specs for Number 4, his A3 Pacific.
"Well Gordon," Henry began, hands clasping behind his head as he stretched out. "We were just going over the systems and operations of the engines on contract for us. As the engineering crew for the west of Sodor we need to be ready to assist inr repair regardless of what the problem is."
Henry gestured toward the flammable mess before him.
"All of this is our homework. Sorry about the mess but we don't really have an office to operate from currently."
Gordon sniffed and took a draw from his mug.
"Well that explains it." He looked to Molly and squared his shoulders. "As for knowing about the Gresley designs, if you're familiar with them then you understand the temperamental treating that it's reverser needs monthly–"
"So that the springs don't tighten and cause a valve to crack? Don't worry, It's already in my calendar for maintenance."
She didn't look up through the entire explanation as she shifted through the other plans before her. Gordon was flabbergasted and only after Henry's shoulders were shaking from holding back his laughter did he realize his jaw was fully extended.
"Well… Well feel free to take it off your calendar. I always handle the general maintenance of Number 4."
"That's right! You're Number 4's Driver." Molly clicked her tongue as she turned a page in what must have been her planner. "It's brake rigging is filthy, I'd suggest less oil when you lubricate it next time. Picks up debris at high speeds."
Gordon's face was instantly red. From embarrassment or rage Henry couldn't decipher, but he gently attempted to redirect the conversation before the atmosphere turned more hostile.
"That's nothing though, Molly tell him what you told me after the round house inspection this morning."
Molly shook her hair back as she slipped a band off her wrist and began to tie it back, a grimace forming on her face as she recalled her look-through.
"Whoever drives that saddle-tank… Number 6, Henry? Yes, that one. I've never seen so many soot covered sweets wrappers on a footplate in my life. The entire interior is a rubbish bin."
Gordon's face contorted as he pictured the trash-laden cab and Molly and Henry both chuckled as Gordon crossed his arms in indignation.
"The little scab. Doesn't he know anything about caring for machinery?"
And as the early afternoon devolved into gossip, Gordon found himself feeling fulfilled once again and refreshed for his afternoon express.
James was still fuming as Number 5 rumbled over the points into Tidmouth's yard. He backed his 4-wheel coaches into the shed and watched as a shunter uncoupled them. James switched back the reverser and opened the regulator to allow Number 5 to slowly creep back up the line toward the water tower.
As he approached, the deep emerald green of Number 12's tender backed out from behind a nearby line of vans and switched over points onto the same line as James. Emily, facing out over the tender to see her clearance, pointed to the tower between them.
"Guess she doesn't want to yell."
James gave an affirmative wave and slowed Number 5 down as Number 12 slid comfortably under the water tower. Emily hoisted herself onto the coal bed and lowered the spout into the tank. She smiled as James pulled Number 5 inches behind the buffers of her tender.
"Thanks for letting me go first. I've got a double header in 20 and have to get down to Knapford."
James waved it off as he stepped down from his cab and walked over to look up at Emily perched in the coalbed.
"No skin off my nose. I'm just ready for a break."
Emily gave a concerned smile. While she and James hadn't been on best terms for a while, she could empathize with a rough day.
"Long day?"
"So to speak. Engines running late makes the day frustrating is all."
Emily laughed slightly and sat down on the edge of the tender lip, legs dangling over the side.
"Can't control everything, only yourself."
"Thanks for the advice."
He hadn't the response to come across so curt, but Emily's expression soured.
"Don't cop an attitude with me. I didn't make you late."
"I know that!" James blustered back. "I'm.. I'm allowed to be annoyed is all! It's not you."
His shoulders dropped and Emily rested her head in her hand as her face softened.
"No you're right. Being annoyed is valid. I should have offered to be a listener instead of a problem solver." Emily sighed. "You can always talk to me James."
James rubbed his stiff neck abashedly as his normally bombastic voice timidly replied.
"Same for you Emily."
Emily beamed. Jumping down from the tender she landed right in front of James, straightening with a roll of her shoulders.
"So what's in the thermos today?"
"I wouldn't know. You still have it."
Emily gasped, having totally forgotten. A sudden gurgling from behind her steered her from the blame as the water from Number 12's tanks began overflowing from the spout.
"Oh Lordy!"
Thomas brought Number 1 expertly to a standstill at Dryaw station. The airfield was brimming with activity as vehicles preparing for the coming snowstorm were being tested and warmed beforehand. As Thomas exited the cab to stretch his legs, he watched a winch lower an enormous snow plow onto the front of a truck. Wincing ,he looked over at his E2's bufferbeam and dreaded the thought of having to accommodate for the front heavy weight a snow plow would add to his engine.
Turning away from the thought, he kneaded his hands into his lower back and watched his passengers disembark and board. The small crowd moved of its own accord for those catching the bus to their next stop, or joining him as he traveled further up the line.
He was about to jump back onto the footplate when a Mauve peacoat caught his eye. The color stood brilliantly in the cold atmosphere against the beiges and blacks of the other passengers. The woman wearing it had her back to Thomas, but he felt that he recognized her. Only when she turned and her soft eyes caught his, did he recall her face from the hobby shop in Elsbridge. He had been so preoccupied berating James that he hadn't noticed her board his train.
He took a deep breath as she kept her gaze fixed on him, and when she began to approach, he felt his heart fall to his stomach. His anxiety pulsing as his face felt hot from her presence.
"Hi.. I'm so sorry, but may I bother you for a moment?"
Thomas gulped. Her voice was clear like a bell. A vibrantly warm pitch in the cold air around them. He opened his mouth to reply, but had been so enamored at her request that he'd forgotten what she asked.
"I.. How… I'm so sorry, what did you say?"
He felt like an idiot. He'd been looking right at her and let her words pass through one ear and out the other. But to his relief she gave a soft smile and repeated herself.
"I don't mean to bother you, but I'm afraid I'm confused about where I am."
Thomas cocked his head slightly to the side.
"This is Dryaw station on the FFarquahar branchline." he stated officially.
"That's what I saw on the placard over there." She pointed to the station sign and Thomas nodded in understanding. She continued, "But I was under the impression this line went to Toryreck. Shouldn't that have been the next station after Elsbridge?"
Thomas' face fell as he understood what had happened. They had passed Toryreck on their way from Elsbridge. Thomas only stopped at Toryreck on the return journey from Knapford after this current train terminated there.
"Miss, I'm really sorry, but we won't stop at Toryreck until we make our return trip from Knapford first."
"Oh is that so?"
Thomas couldn't read her expression as she looked back at the coaches. The guard was beginning to close the doors.
"There's a bus that goes to Toryreck from here that should leave pretty soon." Thomas added, hoping to quell any discontent she might feel at the misunderstanding.
"That's good. But this train will arrive at Toryreck eventually right?"
Thomas couldn't hide his befuddlement as he tried to understand her logic. He answered her honestly.
"As long as you stay on the train through the change-over, then we'll stop at Toryreck on the way back. But that's at least two hours. I'd hate for you to waste your time."
She smiled and met his eyes again.
"That's alright, I think I'll go find a good seat. I do so love trains."
And as she waved a quick goodbye and headed toward the coaches, Thomas felt his heart soar.
Number 4 hissed triumphantly into Vicarstown as it completed its first leg of the afternoon express in expert time. Thick white clouds bellowed from the pistons as Gordon clamped the throttle and shut off steam. Descending the footplate to the platform he caught eye of a slow freight banked on the mainland side of the platform. At the head was an enormous 9F Standard Class. Hulking over the trackbed it conveyed pure power as it's internals wheeshed stead hints of steam.
Gordon wanted a closer look at the behemoth and took a quick glance at the station clock mounted on a support beam.
"I've got time." He thought. And he quickly strode to the walk across and made to the engine.
As he peered down at it from the gangplank overhead, he noticed the intricate tubing melding in and out of the boiler. Compared to his sleek A3, the engine looked incredibly industrial. A warming light reflecting off the tender interior told him the fire was being stoked and he doubled his pace to reach the engine before its departure.
As Gordon lobbied down the walk across, he took in the shape of the smoke deflectors, the tapering of the boiler, and the intricate valve gear encasing the ten strong driving wheels. Another whoosh of steam escaped the piston housing and Gordon her the deep bowels of the engine rumble as he guessed the valve gear had been opened to allow the superheated tubes inside the boiler to percolate.
As Gordon walked along the body of the engine, a head poked curiously out from the cab window. Face dirtied, a kind smile illuminated gentle eyes as the man called down to Gordon.
"Hullo there! What can I do ya for?"
Gordon, slightly startled, took notice of the man and gestured at the 9F.
"Just checking out your engine. A real workhorse you have here!"
The man's smile broadened as he retracted his head and moved to lean out the cab. His massive frame showing a perfect fit for the engine her drove.
"You're preaching to the choir." He laughed. "139 tons of superheating engineering."
Gordon gave an appreciative low whistle and ran a hand over the Walchert's valve gear by the middle wheels.
"How fast can it go?"
The man laughed and began to clamber down the cab steps to the platform.
"Well, I'll be honest with ya. We're not the fastest by a large margin. But if ya need anything pulled? We'd be a strong one to beat."
Gordon grinned to himself. The way the man spoke about his engine as if the two were an individual entity was reassuring.
"I can appreciate that. But if I'm being honest it just means you'll take the work I'd rather not do." Gordon laughed.
The man raised a puzzled eyebrow.
"Not a fan of goods work?"
"Not when I have the option to be the premier express engine here in the North Western."
"Well that's pretty fancy." The man scratched his chin as he looked back over the 9F. "But no job is too small or unimportant."
"If you say so." Gordon deflected huffily. The man's permanent smile remained as he chuckled.
"I'll tell ya what. You pull that express well, and I'll make sure any freight is out of your way. Railway runs smoother when everyone pulls their weight."
Gordon was beginning to find the optimism and camaraderie to be too much, but the man's determined attitude couldn't help but get the best of him.
"Well, that's a tough offer to refuse." Gordon laughed. " It's a deal.. Err.."
"Murdoch, friend."
"Well then it's a deal, Murdoch. Feel free to call me Gordon."
"You're Gordon?..." Murdoch trailed off. Gordon's inquisition however was stopped by the sudden blowing of the guard's whistle.
"Sorry Gordon, that's my cue. Tell Henry I hope all is well."
And as Murdoch turned to roster into the cab, Gordon bemusedly began his way back to his express.
Heyo everyone! Hope y'all have been able to enjoy these past couple chapters. Working on a bit more relationship/character development before we slide into the final act, so bare with me!
All the best, and of course, thanks for reading! -REN