Chapter 2.

Lily didn't take well to being demoted to a goods engine. First off, that meant she had to get dirty, since most goods shipments handled by the NWR were coal, which was to be moved to Tidmouth Harbour, from which it would be shipped off to the engines serving in the front.

Other goods shipments she handled little better, as her gripe was with having to pull anything other than shiny coaches. Later on, everyone would thank that the Anopha Quarry and the line to Ffarquhar hadn't opened yet, as having to deliver lead from William Toryreck's mine was already bad enough if you asked her.

Daily, she would moan about having to haul goods trains, while her class was built to take Pullman coaches with the finest of passengers aboard. And each night, she would complain to the other engines about having to carry goods, blaming Thomas for her misfortune.

"You bloody little teacup!" she snapped, one week after being demoted. "If only you had listened to me, I would still be a passenger engine!"

"Oh, shut up and let me sleep!" demanded Max.

"Yes, could you let an actual express engine sleep?"

"Be quiet, Westerner! Returning to you, teapot, if I hadn't been forced to double head an express with you, my safety valve wouldn't have burst!"

"That wasn't my fault!"

"Yes, it was! You were the one going slow!"

"I was going as fast as I could!"

"No, you were not! You were trying to sabotage me!"

Before Thomas could say anything else, intervention came from an unexpected source.

"Shut the hell up! I won't stand for you badmouthing anyone!"

Silence fell upon the shed: Edward only ever got angry in the worst situations possible.

"You have done nothing but insult our railway ever since you came here. I do not know why Sir Topham decided to buy you, but I, unlike you, am not out to question my boss."

"That's fancy coming from you, you outdated dinosaur."

"Am I the dinosaur? Or is it you?" Edward asked. Lily spluttered indignantly!

"How dare you!" she shrieked.

"At least he and I don't try to replace our director," Thomas retorted. "You've been doing that ever since you came here!"

"And for good reason!" Lily snapped. "I'm a modern…"

"That's enough!" shouted a voice. It belonged to Emily, who decided enough was enough and began to try and knock some sense into her.

"I'm sick of you saying "modern" this and "modern" that," grumbled Emily. "It's not about being modern, it's about doing your job."

"Pah! Of course you'd say that, you outdated single," replied Lily. "Anything you can do to stay in service."

"It's not about keeping myself in service," said Emily, trying to reason with Lily. "It's about doing the job: railways rely on passengers for publicity, but it's the goods that brings in the real money. Learned that myself long ago."

Lily harrumphed and steamed off to collect her next train. Emily sighed.

"You did your best, Emily," Edward comforted. "Lily is just too stubborn for her own good."

"You're telling me," Thomas snorted. "I mean, where did she even get the idea that a hierarchy exists among engines?"

"She's not wrong, technically," Olive put in. The other engines turned to her.

"Whatever do you mean?" asked Selena.

"Well, think about it," said Olive. "It's all about size: the bigger and stronger engines always get picked for jobs over smaller ones that can't do much. Yes, I agree: that's no excuse for her to try and take over the job of a director, but still."

"So why am I still used on goods despite Lily doing the job?" Selena quizzed. Olive suddenly faultered.

"Uh, well, I, uh…"

Selena couldn't help but grin.

"Just as I thought," she said. "Now then, we should get some sleep."

It wasn't just the other engines who were tired of Lily: the trucks, too, were sick of her roughness. So much so, they began playing up. Sometimes, they would slip their brakes on. Other times, they would run hotboxes. But no matter what they did, it all came with taunting and name-calling.

"Lily the Horrid! Lily the Horrid!" they would chant. Other times, they would say something about the lines of, "Look out, lads! Here comes the queen!"

"Shut your filthy, peasant mouths!" Lily would snap, and she'd bump them. But it did no good: they kept taunting and making her journeys difficult.

"If you were nicer to the trucks," Edward advised, "they wouldn't be so rude to you. Trucks are only rude when you're rude to them first."

"Like I need tips from an old iron like you," snorted Lily. "I'll be nicer when I'm back on passenger trains."

"Suit yourself," said Edward, "but don't come crying to me when you end up in an accident with your brakes on fire."

"As if that would happen! I'm not one of those wretched class 28's."

A few days later, Lily was ordered to take yet another goods train. By now, this was the norm. But these trucks were different: they were like box vans, but had open windows.

"Moo!" a voice called. Lily braked, and saw a head poking out of one of the trucks.

"Wh-what was that?!" she asked, panicking.

"That was a cow," her driver answered. "These wagons here are called cattle trucks, they carry livestock."

"Live…stock?" Lily asked slowly.

"That's right," her driver confirmed. "They're due to be shipped out to…"

"Ew! Ew! Ew!" Lily shrieked. "That's it: I won't go anywhere near dirty, smelly cattle! They smell like shit and ruin my paintwork! Take me back to the shed at once!"

"We can't do that Lily," her driver tried to argue, "we must…"

"Take. Me. Back. NOWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!" Lily screamed, so loudly her safety valve lifted, and the cows became frightened! The crew and workmen tried to reason with Lily, but she refused to be reasoned with. In the end, it was decided the train was running too late to continue arguing and they had to round up all the spooked cattle as well.

"Fine, have it your way!" the foreman snapped, and turned to the crew. "Return this engine to the sheds and fire up Olive: I heard she loves animals. Sir Topham Hatt will be hearing all about this."

Indeed, Olive, who normally detested goods trains, was excited at the prospect of hauling cattle trucks.

"Oh boy! Animals!" she said with glee. Lily just harrumphed and simmered down as Olive excitedly left the shed. Lily was pleased, and retained that when the Fat Director walked over.

"What's this I hear about you refusing to work?" he demanded.

"I won't pull anymore trucks, especially those with cattle!" Lily answered bluntly. "I'm going on strike until you put me on express passenger trains again!"

"Engines on my railway do as they're told!" the Fat Director scolded. "If you won't work, I'll just have you returned home."

And he went into his office to phone the L&Y. The Chairman, Sir George John Armytage, was the one who picked up the phone.

"How may I help you?" he asked the Fat Director.

"I was loaned an engine from your line, a Dreadnought, number of 1526, goes by Lily" the Fat Director answered. Sir George's face went pale as the Fat Director continued. "She's proving to be troublesome and refuses to work on anything other than express passenger trains. I'd therefore like to return…"

"No, no, please don't!" Sir George shouted. "We can't have that nightmarish beast back! Please, don't return her!"

"You're acting rather childishly," the Fat Controller pointed out. "It's only one engine, nothing wrong with…"

"Don't you know how terrible she is?!" Sir George screamed. "She bullies everyone around her, no crew is safe from her wrath! Even I'm not safe! No scrapyard will take her, and I was ordered to get rid of her! Yours is the only railway who would accept her! Please! Keep that bitch! They'll sack me and replace me with another president if you don't!" He began crying.

"You seriously need to get some help," said the Fat Director. "Fine, but I'm not paying for her lease anymore." He hung up the phone and sighed. "Looks like I'm going to be stuck with Lily for a long, long time."

He returned to the sheds. As expected, Lily was still there.

"So when will I return home?" she asked.

"Too bad for you, you're not," the Fat Director said. "You've done some terrible things to your company: they don't want you back, and neither does anyone else."

"They clearly don't know who they're missing out on," Lily snorted. "So what's gonna happen to me?"

"I can't keep you here," said the Fat Director. "That won't be productive." He then gave a smirk. "Since you only want to take express trains, I have an "express" job for you."

The "express" job was to be the banker at Wellsworth for the Maron Incline. Lily despised this even more, but this time, the Fat Director had planned ahead: he gave Lily a new crew, one that was tough-as-nails and took no nonsense. They made this very clear her first day on the job.

"I'm not pushing that red piece of…"

"Silence!" the driver shouted. "You have a job and you need to do it! I only take orders from Sir Topham Hatt! Refuse, and I'll take out my saw and cut off your brass dome!" Lily subsided at this dreadful threat! She pushed Selena and her train up the Incline, but grumbled while doing so. The trucks still didn't stop taunting her.

"Hey look! It's the queen!" they shouted. "Leaving royalty and joining us commoners!" And they all giggled in their silly way. Lily said nothing and returned to the station.

"Well, well, well. How the mighty have fallen!" chuckled Edward, seeing her returning to the station. The other W&S engines joined in.

"Shut. Up."

Around the same time Lily had a fit regarding cattle trucks, Conan departed his home to take a leisurely walk around the island, he spotted some racket going on in the yard at Vicarstown. He only understood something about cattle trucks.

"These modern engines, all too conceited to work properly," he sighed. "At least I can cross one out of my list."

He'd spent a week researching the engines of the NWR, but he'd gotten no closer to finding his. Many engines were painted black before coming to Sodor, and one still held such livery.

"Now, I saw the engine being painted blue…that doesn't help matters. I'll need more clues"

So, he bought a ticket to Crovan's Gate, with a notebook, containing his drawings of the engine, in hand. Soon, the train arrived, and Conan, exiting the carriage, walked towards a small hill, where he prepared to spend the day.

For a while, the only engine he could see was Skarloey, arriving at the station with a train full of slate.

"Ah, hello," he said. "Not everyday I see a young boy on their own. What brings you down here?"

"Trainspotting," answered Conan. "I'm looking for a particular engine."

"Hmm…which engine would it be?"

"This may sound stupid, but I only have this drawing as a reference."

Conan showed Skarloey the drawing he'd made of the engine he'd seen in his vision.

"Have you seen any engine that resembles this drawing?"

"That would be Thomas," Skarloey replied. "He's the station pilot at Vicarstown. You'll most likely want to go there to see him. May I ask: why do you want to see him so badly?"

"This may also sound really stupid, but…have you heard the urban legend about black water?"

"I have."

"That's why I'm looking for Thomas. Some weeks ago, I took an accidental drink, and I've been having loads of visions about an engine ever since."

"I wish you luck, Lad. The NWR would benefit greatly from someone with your abilities."

"Thanks, Skarloey…say…would you allow me to draw a picture of you?"

"Of course!"

At the same time, Selena puffed into Barrow, exhausted from pulling a very heavy goods train. After Lily was demoted to goods engine, the NWR had begun to accept more contracts, which were split between the two. With Lily no longer helping, however, Selena had begun to operate longer and heavier goods trains back-to-back. She was the strongest of the NWR's engines, and its only dedicated goods engine, which meant her loads had doubled recently. Max and Payne refused to assist her, even though the latter was actually built for goods work.

"Just because I'm built for goods work doesn't mean I like to do it!" he snapped at Selena.

"You could still at least try!" she snapped back.

"Ah, what would a Middy like you know?" asked Payne. "You've pulled goods all your life, never once did I see you on passenger trains."

"Just because you've not seen me on them doesn't mean I never pulled passengers."

"Sure you did, Lass. Now, if you excuse me, I have a suburban train to pull."

And he huffed away.

"Fuck you…" muttered Selene, as she returned to Vicarstown.

There, she received more bad news.

"I'm sorry, Selena," said the yardmaster, "but another shipment of coal for the frontline just arrived. You'll need to take it to Tidmouth."

"Great…"

Thomas overheard that exchange, and he felt sorry for Selene, and so, he had an idea.

Puffing towards the goods platform, Thomas announced his presence via two blasts of his whistle.

"I'll take that train for you, Selene," he offered.

"Thank you, Thomas…" she muttered. "Don't mind me, I'm gonna get some rest.."

Thomas quickly fetched the trucks, banging them a little too hard.

"Ouch!" they complained. "Be careful!"

Thomas apologised, before accelerating out of the station. In his excitement to help, he'd forgotten that his driver had reported sick, and that he was not to leave the yard.

Soon, Thomas was speeding down the countryside, with the train shaking and rattling behind him. The trucks, however, were having a very rough trip.

"See the bright side, lads," one said, "at least we don't have to deal with queen Lily."

Thomas didn't hear them, whistling to Skarloey, who was apparently getting a picture of him drawn.

"Was that…?"

"Yes."

"Should I…?"

"Probably."

Conan began to chase Thomas, running as fast as he could.

The tank engine soon reached his maximum speed of 70 miles per hour. And soon, he was speeding past the stations. His driver, however, wasn't having a good time: throughout the whole journey, he felt like he would pass out. His sickness was worse than he'd let on.

Eventually, the train reached Maron station, which meant they had to slow down. The driver, however, failed to apply them. It's debated if it was Thomas or the fireman who applied them, but either way, it was too late. The E2 class had some serious braking issues, which meant that Thomas didn't slow enough when they reached the incline.

"Eh…Driver? Are we speeding up?"

Thomas got no answer, and the weight of the train was beginning to push him down the hill, faster and faster and faster. Thomas tried to brake harder, but it was no use. Soon, the train was plummeting at full speed down the hill.

"Help!" he cried. The trucks decided they would help…eventually.

"Go on, go on!" they teased. "Faster!"

"Not funny!"

Thomas sped past Wellsworth, leaving behind him a very surprised Edward.

"Seems that blue teapot finally got his due," muttered Lily.

"Be quiet!" roared Edward, before bumping her.

"Ow!"

The runaway train continued on, zooming by Crosby, and eventually coming to a stop on a siding nearby.

"What did you do that for?!" Thomas asked the trucks. "Didn't I say I was sorry?!"

"Uh, well…"

None of the trucks knew what to say. But somebody else did.

"I should agree with Thomas," said the Fat Director. "I don't understand why you'd do that when he apologised for bumping you."

"All we did was tell him to go faster," the lead truck said.

"Clearly, you didn't think about how your words would affect others," said the Fat Director, and he walked over to the cab. "Now then, driver, please tell me…OH MY GOD!"

It was at that moment the cause of the runaway was discovered: the driver had fallen unconscious! And the fireman was nowhere to be seen!

"I have a feeling the fireman was pushed out when your driver fell unconscious," the Fat Director said to Thomas. "Question is, how did he fall unconscious?"

Thomas couldn't answer. That was until he remembered.

"I think he had some kind of illness before I volunteered to take Selena's train for her," he replied.

"I see…why did you volunteer?""

"She was exhausted and Payne refused to give her any help," answered Thomas. "I have a feeling you should get another engine to help her out with goods trains."

The Fat Director pondered this.

"You're right: Selena does need help. We need a heavy goods engine, one with more power than Selena. Trouble is, I've no idea where I can find one."

"Maybe you could try to get your hands on a Highland railway "Clan Goods" sir? Or maybe your friend from Swindon, uh, William Stanier, could lend you a hand?"

"Stanier does owe me a favour," the Fat Director admitted, "but I don't think this is the perfect time to cache it in. However, now that you mention it, I do remember somebody in the Admiralty telling me the Great Central Railway does have a class of 2-8-0 goods engines designed by Sir John G. Robinson. They're classified as 8K. I'll see if I can get one of those for our Railway. Good thinking, Thomas!"

"Thank you, sir!"

"To make sure this doesn't happen again anytime soon, I'm sending you to the works, where you'll get your brakes improved."

Suddenly, both heard footsteps approaching rapidly, along with a lot of panting.

"Thank…God…this man fell off the train at the Incline…"

The Fat Director turned, and saw a young boy with blonde hair carrying Thomas' fireman, which seemed to be bleeding from the forehead. He told one of his assistants to call an ambulance, while he began to interrogate the boy.

"What's your name?"

"Conan, Sir."

"While I thank you for rescuing that man, I am confused. Why were you chasing the train?"

"This has no easy explanation, sir. Are you aware of the urban legend regarding black water?"

"What legend?" asked Thomas.

"That if you drink black water, a bond is formed with a sentient vehicle."

"That makes no sense whatsoever!" scoffed Thomas. "Black water is what kills engines, how can it form bonds?!"

"I thought the same…until two weeks ago. I fell into a pond full of the stuff…and I began to have visions…regarding an engine..painted in black…that made it to this very railway."

"And what did this engine look like?" asked the Fat Controller, feeling suspicious. Conan said nothing: he simply pointed at Thomas.

"How do I know this is no elaborate prank?"

"You'll have to trust me."

"Trust you? What would you know?" Thomas asked. "You're only a teenager."

"That was uncalled for!"

"Alright, settle down," ordered the Fat Director. "Now then, what exactly were these dreams? And did you feel anything unusual that day?"

"Those dreams felt like…memories…and yes, I did feel something unusual…heat…an unnatural heat inside of me. It was like…I had a fire burning inside!"

"What did you see in those memories?"

"That engine over there…it's very vague, but I saw a dock…a goods train…and then, him arriving on this railway."

Thomas listened to all of this, thinking.

"The dock…must be Southampton…goods train, I remember being taken here on one…arriving on this railway…No, it's just coincidence!" he huffed.

Conan was about to reply, but he gave a sneeze instead.

"Sorry sir," he apologised. "I must've…"

But he never got to finish: at that moment, a large cloud of ash burst out of Thomas' whistle!

"Wait a minute, ash doesn't fly out of the whistle!" he realised.

"Indeed it does not," agreed Sir Topham. "And the timing cannot be a coincidence."

Thomas was finally convinced. There was something going on with that kid.

"If I can trust you to keep this a secret, young man, I'd like to give you employment as a shunter."

"Thank you, Sir!"

"Now, Thomas. Leave these trucks here. I'll have W&S no. 2 take them to the harbour…I need to have some words with Max and Payne."

As soon as Thomas arrived at Vicarstown, the Fat Director ordered Max and Payne brought to him.

"I've heard that you've picked some of Lily's bad habits…and I must say that I'm very disappointed in you two."

"But sir…!"

"But nothing! As a punishment, you two will be handling the rubbish trains for a week."

"Yes, sir."

"In other news, I'll try to get a new heavy goods engine. Should help Selena with the increasing workload of goods."

"Thank you Sir!" Selena said happily.

"And finally, the Elsbridge Branch line is now building an extension to Ffarquhar. I do not know who I shall give the line to when the extension is finished, the Coffee Pots will be able to handle it alone for now, but there will come a time when they'll need help, so I hope that you all put your best effort."

"Yes, sir."

"That is all for now. If you excuse me, I have to make a few calls."

The second he entered his office, his phone rang. As it turned out, the caller was Sir Charles Bine Renshaw, the Chairman of the Caledonian Railway.

"What do you want?"

"I want to offer you one of our 498 class dock tank engines."

"What's the catch?" Sir Topham was wary, as his last negotiation with that guy had landed him Max.

"No catch. We just had no use for that particular engine at the moment, and I heard you need someone to keep Tidmouth Harbour in order while your new docks are being built, so I decided to be generous and loan it to you. Feel free to keep it until your new docks are ready."

That was really an interesting offer. The work on Brendam Docks was behind schedule, as the former W&S engines had to alternate between dock shunting, piloting Tidmouth, and helping with the construction. Loaning a dock tank would alleviate matters somewhat.

"What do you want in return?"

"Oh, this is an act of goodwill, Topham. You only need to pay the lease."

"When will it arrive?"

"Two day's time. It's been a pleasure doing business with you, Topham!" and he hung up.

The Fat Director breathed a sigh of relief. At least that meant one of his problems was covered. And soon, he would be able to start his main project for the railway:

"The coastal main line…a line that keeps close to the shore, connecting seaside towns and villages," he thought. "This will do wonders to attract holiday makers."

Plans for that line and other expansions were on the backburner at the moment. But not for long. It was mid November 1914. The war would surely end in a month at most. Little did he know, how wrong he would be…