Olive asked her driver to put her in the station for the night. The next morning, the Fat Director was surprised to see Olive already at the station.
"What're you doing here so early?" he asked.
"Sir Topham Hatt, I wish to perform a nonstop run, will you let me? Please?!"
"Well, um, ok, I guess I don't see a problem. I'll make the arrangements and see how things go."
"Yes! Thank you, thank you!"
When her crew arrived, she immediately hurried to collect some coaches. A number of GWR coaches existed on the NWR, including a friend of hers who Olive had forgotten about. Deciding she wanted to prove she was better than Gordon, she buffered up to the Teaks instead.
"If Gordon brought these teaks, that makes them the most modern coaches around," she said to herself. The City Class was soon coupled on. But much to her surprise, the coaches wouldn't budge! "What the hell?! Why aren't you moving?!"
"You forgot the pipe! You forgot the pipe!" shrieked the coaches. Olive suddenly realised what the coaches meant: she was so eager she had forgotten to have her fireman hitch up the brake pipe! But it was too late: with a loud snap, the coupling broke off and she shot backwards!
"Oops! Oh, crap" she gulped. "Sorry about that. Can you girls please keep this a secret?"
"We won't lie to anybody," said the lead coach, "but since you apologised, we won't say it was you."
"Fair enough," sighed Olive. She began looking around, hoping to find another set of teaks. She found something quite interesting: 4 coaches that seemed to be fused together. "What are those?" she asked her driver.
"That," answered her driver, "is a quad-art set. My cousin works in the LNER, and he told me that they're some sort of articulated train. Works for suburban services, they normally travel in two sets coupled together."
"They do look beautiful," Olive said, "unfortunately, they won't do for a nonstop run." She then spotted another set of teaks, these from Great Northern days. "Perfect," she decided. "That'll make sure Gordon doesn't suspect anything. I'll be sure to collect the Pullmans later." Olive couldn't have known that these teaks were faulty: overdue maintenance had caused their brakes to develop a tendency to slip on at random times. She coupled up to the GNR teaks and brought them to the platform.
Meanwhile, the Fat Director came up to the sheds.
"Gordon," he asked, "since you're now part of my railway, would you like to be repainted?"
"Repainted? What's wrong with my Apple Green?" asked Gordon.
"Nothing's wrong, just thought you might fancy a change," said the Fat Director.
"Not at the moment, sir. I quite like my lovely apple green," said Gordon.
"Very well, if you change your mind, let me know," said the Fat Director.
Gordon then was fired up, and turned to Thomas.
"Be around to fetch my coaches, won't you?" Gordon asked.
"I can't, I have to cover for Timmy with building the Lasgair Bridge: something about a broken, uh, what was it again? His…"
"It was his reversor," said 98462. "He can't move forward until it's mended."
"Yes, that," said Thomas. "Go shunt them yourself if you're not so lazy."
"How dare you!" Gordon shouted. "I can't fit in those sidings, you should know it, little Thomas!"
"All I know is you're too lazy to do any actual work," snorted Thomas. He then put on a face of pain. "Ow! That was a cheap shot, I didn't feel anything."
"You wouldn't know actual bloody work if you tried," said Gordon.
"I work hard all the time, more so than you ever do!" snapped Thomas. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have actual work to do, not sitting around making others do my jobs for me like you."
And he ran off.
"Cheeky little tank engine!" snorted Gordon. "What nerve does he have to say I don't do any work?"
Once at the station, he was surprised to see Olive shunting.
"What on earth are you doing?" he asked.
"Shunting your train," Olive replied.
"But you're a tender engine! Tender engines aren't meant to shunt!"
"Says who? I'm small, I can easily handle it. It is hard to squeeze into some of the tighter curves, but experience is the key. Enjoy!" And she went back to the yard sto collect her own train.
"Why did she do that? Doesn't this railway have a dedicated station pilot?" asked Gordon.
"That would normally be Thomas," said 98462, "but as he said, he's had to cover for Timmy. Nevermind, at least your train's ready now."
"I see, Caledonian. But why does this railway disrespect tender engines such?"
"Disrespect? By no means are we disrespected here," snorted 98462. "What ever gave you that idea?"
"The fact that tender engines have to shunt their own trains if there are no tank engines available," Gordon answered.
"Rubbish! It happens everywhere whenever a station pilot is unavailable," said 98462.
"Not in the Great Northern. They always have a tank engine available for shunting at King's Cross in London."
"And what about the other stations you stopped at?" 98462 asked innocently.
"The LNER J50s and J72s are widely available. Every station has at least one," insisted Gordon.
Gordon then reversed onto his train. 98462 rolled off to collect a goods train.
"Get in quickly please!" the A0 whistled. The passengers did, and Gordon simmered, waiting for the guard to blow his whistle.
Soon, the signal changed to green, and the guard blew his whistle. Gordon began to pull his train, when suddenly, his wheels slipped!
"What's going on?! I've never had trouble pulling coaches before!"
"I suspect there's a problem with the brakes on the coach," said his driver. He shut off steam and applied the brakes, then he and the fireman stepped out to examine the coaches. "Just as I thought," the driver said. "The brakes on the coaches somehow slipped on."
"Something tells me Olive had something to do with this," Gordon said to himself.
"We'll worry about that later," said the fireman. "Right now, we need to release these brakes and get moving."
And that's exactly what they did. Gordon steamed off once more, determined to make up for any time he had lost. After he left, Olive moved a rake of GWR toplight coaches into the third platform.
"Well Olive," said the Fat Director, approaching her, "I've arranged for your next departure to be a nonstop one. I hope you enjoy it."
"Oh thank you sir! I will!"
Olive was determined to reach one hundred miles per hour. That would show Gordon he wasn't the fastest. Far from it. She began hissing excitedly as the people boarded.
Once the guard blew his whistle, Olive shot forward as fast as possible, sparks flying from her wheels as she departed.
"Whoa, easy there girl!" called her driver. "This isn't a bumping ring, you know!"
She paid no heed, accelerating through the yard as she began building up speed.
Out on the mainline, Gordon was making good time. Despite the rough start, he managed to arrive at Crovan's Gate without trouble and was now on his way once more. As he passed Kellsthorpe Road, however, the fireman swore he could hear some kind of squealing from behind the tender.
"Do you hear that?" he asked the driver. "I swear I can hear some kind of squealing coming from behind the tender."
"Do you now?" asked the driver. He listened closely. "You're right: I hear it too! We'll make a stop at the next signal box and have a look there after we inform the signalman."
All trains stopping in the middle of the main line for any reason are required to inform the signalman and sign a logbook to make sure the signalman doesn't forget about them. This is called rule 55.
As they approached a bridge near Killdane, Gordon was surprised to find himself slowing down!
"What's going on?! We can't stop now, we were gathering speed!"
"There's some kind of squeal coming from the coaches," the driver explained. "We're going to take a look."
The crew got out of the cab and the driver inspected each coach, the fireman joining him after informing the signalman of the situation. Before long, they found the problem.
"Well that explains it," said the driver. "All the coaches on these brakes have slipped on!"
"No doubt that Westerner is behind this," Gordon muttered to himself.
"We'll worry about that later," said the driver. "Right now, we need to get new coaches: these have flat tyres as a result of all that moving they were doing with their brakes hard on."
The driver informed the guard, who explained the situation to the passengers, then ran down the line to the next signal box, dropping detonators as he did so. The fireman, meanwhile, went back to the signal box to telephone for help. Gordon could do nothing but wait.
Olive, meanwhile, had been enjoying herself: she was looking forward to passing Gordon and show him he wasn't so fast after all.
"Hurry hurry hurry!" she called out. "Oh boy, this is great: finally I can show that big green…whoa!"
She was taken by surprise when she found herself making a left turn at the branch line junction instead of going straight on!
"What's going on?! We're going the wrong way!"
"No we aren't, this is where we need to go: out train is running nonstop to Kirk
Ronan," her driver replied.
"Kirk Ronan?! GRRR, Gordon did this, I know it!"
"Easy girl: you didn't specify you wanted to go to Tidmouth," the driver pointed out. "You just said you wanted to make a nonstop run."
Olive didn't reply: she just harrumphed as she reluctantly began to slow down.
While this was going on, Emily arrived with a rake of first class Midland Clerestory coaches with gangways.
"So this is what you call succeeding me, huh? Setting off with coaches that have faulty brakes?"
Gordon didn't say anything.
"Nevermind," Emily said sympathetically. "Your passengers will be riding in these coaches for the rest of the journey. I've been ordered to take these teaks back to Vicarstown for repairs."
Gordon didn't really want to give up his teaks, but he didn't have a choice: his passengers needed to get to their destination. The two engines swapped their trains and when the last passenger had boarded the new rake of coaches, Gordon set off once more, determined to make up for lost time.
The rest of the run went without a hitch, though Gordon wasn't focused on that: he was contemplating what he'd say to Olive when he next saw her, even as he pulled into Tidmouth.
At the same time, Olive hit the buffers at Kirk Ronan. Coming to a sudden stop, she was lucky she managed not to bash through them. Olive was still upset though: her plan had backfired greatly and she was thinking of what to say to Gordon when they next met. The passengers didn't mind: they had managed to catch their ferry to Dublin faster than they normally would've and were grateful for that.
"Perhaps we should make this nonstop boat train run a regular thing," said the driver innocently. Olive said nothing to this, hoping her driver was only joking.
Later that afternoon, Gordon returned to Vicarstown.
"Where's Olive?!" he demanded.
"She's out with a boat train," said Selena. "She'll be back later. Why? What's wrong?"
"I don't see why it's any of your concern," Gordon snorted.
"What did I do to you to justify you being so rude?"
"Like you'd know," Gordon said. "You've never even touched an express coach."
"Actually, I have," said Selena, wincing. "It didn't go well."
"Of course not: you're a goods engine. Pulling express coaches never goes well for goods engines."
Gordon steamed off. Selena just rolled her eyes: Gordon didn't need to know about the time she got obsessed over her appearance.
Gordon backed down into the shed, where Edward was waiting.
"Everything alright, Gordon?" Edward asked.
"It will be when that Western City returns," Gordon scoffed. "She damaged the brakes on my coaches to sabotage me!"
"That doesn't sound like Olive," said Edward. "She does have a temper on her, but she'd never sabotage anybody!"
"Didn't you hear her earlier? She said, and I quote, "We'll see just how important you are." I'm telling you, little Edward: she's the reason my beautiful teak coaches got flat tyres!"
"Has it ever occurred to you the brakes may have been damaged even before Olive collected them?" Edward asked.
"That's impossible: my teaks are in fine, sturdy form. Never would they allow themselves to succumb to damage without interference!"
"Nothing is immune to getting damaged," Edward said simply. "Even you: all of us need overhauls at some point."
"Pah! Of course you'd say that," snorted Gordon. "You're stuck in this shed, overlooked by the crews. You have no more use, understand?"
"Couldn't have put it better myself," said 87546, as he backed down next to Gordon. "You're much too old to be useful now, old iron. Engines like us are what crews prefer."
"A K1?! Why, I didn't expect to see one of your kind here!"
"Neither did I expect a fellow Great Northern engine to be joining me," 87546 said with a grin. "Feels great to not be the only GNR engine here."
"I concur, my Gresley-designed friend," Gordon said. "Now I don't feel like that much of an outsider."
"And what about Emily?" Edward pointed out. "She's a GNR engine too."
"My dear Edward," said Gordon, "Emily's class was withdrawn in the 1890s. She is of no use for modern railways"
"You could say the same about Henry," said 87546. "After all, he isn't even a real engine."
"Who," asked Gordon, "is Henry? That's the second time I've heard of him"
"You saw a green engine bricked up in Ballahoo Tunnel before you entered it, right?" Edward asked. "That, Gordon, is Henry. He's bricked up inside as punishment for refusing to come out with a Wedding Train during a rainstorm."
"Serves him right," Gordon huffed.
"There's a rumour about that," added 87546. "That he decided to sabotage the railway by staying there."
"And what would Henry have to gain from sabotaging us?" Edward pointed out.
"Don't ask me. All I know is he was angry at being built wrong," 87546 jeered.
"Precisely!" thundered Gordon. "The same anger that caused Olive to sabotage my teaks."
"I'm so getting tired of this," Edward huffed. "What proof do you have that Olive sabotaged your teaks anyway, Gordon?"
"She's the one who took them to the station," Gordon pointed out. "Surely she did something!"
"Like I said, it could be a coincidence," Edward argued.
"Too much of a coincidence," snorted Gordon.
"Well somebody's feeling lazy today," said Thomas, who had come to the sheds for a drink of water.
"And what's that supposed to mean?!" Gordon asked furiously.
"If you really wanted to confront Olive," said Thomas cheekily, "you'd be out on the mainline trying to find her. Instead, you're just sitting around the sheds doing nothing but wait for her. Rather lazy if you ask me."
"Now look here, runt!" Gordon shouted. "Pulling the express is hard work! It takes a lot of energy, more than any other job."
"Rubbish!" snorted Thomas. "I work harder than any of you! Without me, you wouldn't have any time to rest before your next train!"
"Like you would know," Gordon huffed. "You didn't even shunt my coaches this morning. You don't work hard at all."
"And you're not working at all," Thomas retorted. "Staying in that shed, complaining about Olive. Take my advice: get out of the sheds and work hard like me." At that moment, Thomas' tanks were full. The E2 left to continue his shunting before Gordon could reply.
"Wretched tank engine! And why is that runt of a kid always around him?" Gordon asked. "Is he related to your director or something?"
"His name is Conan," said Edward, "and he's a driver. He and Thomas have some special connection."
"Oh, like that? That tank engine is his adoptive father?" Gordon asked, mockingly.
"It's more complicated than that," Edward said. "They're, uh, bonded in a special way."
"Pah! I don't see how!"
"Like I said, Gordon, it's complicated."
"Of course you'd say that, old man," snorted Gordon. "Everything's complicated for you."
"Not everything," said Edward, infuriated. "Do you think you can understand?"
"All I understand is that you're a clapped out piece-of-work stuck here as a result of being too old and out-of date. The driver won't choose you again: he wants big, strong engines like us."
Edward, who hadn't been out in a long time, began to feel sad.
"You fucking asshole!" snapped 98462, who had just returned from a goods run.
"Why are you taking his side, Caledonian?"
"Because he took mine long ago. And I've seen what he can do. Every crisis this railway has been through, he worked the hardest to bring us out of it."
"Well he's not working hard now," Gordon said pointedly. "He's stuck in his berth collecting cobwebs and dust."
"Maybe he'll be let out again soon! Who knows?" countered 98462.
"Bah! He'll be a pile of scrap before that happens," Gordon insisted.
"Trust me, Max," snickered 87546, "this engine knows what he's talking about."
"It's 98462, not Max," the Caledonian 55 responded. "You do well to remember that yourself, 87546: we don't have names anymore, haven't for years."
"And why should I listen to what Fat Hatt says?" 87546 asked.
"Because the last time you didn't, we got in big trouble," snorted 98462.
"What kind of trouble?" asked Gordon.
"Nothing too concerning," said 87546.
"Pretending to be ill is very concerning," insisted 98462.
"It got me out of pulling rubbish trains, didn't it? You hated those too, you know."
"I don't blame you," said Gordon. "Everybody hates rubbish trains: you'll never see me pulling dirty, smelly goods."
"Yep, just like Lily."
It was at that moment, Olive finally returned.
"Gee, you guys really know how to be loud," she remarked.
"About time you returned," Gordon said. "I've a bone to pick with you."
"What about?" Olive asked.
"Like you don't know!" Gordon snorted. "You damaged the brakes on my beautiful teak coaches!"
"I did no such thing!" Olive shouted. "How was I to know your teaks had faulty brakes?!"
"The hell you didn't! This was deliberate sabotage!"
Olive was now furious.
"Sabotage?! Why would I sabotage you?! Yes, you're more modern, but sabotaging coaches would ruin everybody, not just you!"
"Pah! You likely want my position for yourself, don't you?! I know you feel threatened by me!" Gordon snapped.
"Just because I feel threatened doesn't mean I want to take down the whole railway with you!" Olive snapped back.
"You can't fool me," Gordon said. "I see right through you."
"And what's inside me, huh?"
"A spiteful, vindictive bitch," Gordon answered.
"Bitch?!" Olive shrieked. "You got some nerve calling me that!"
"Do I? How else can I refer to an engine who deliberately sabotages her betters?" Gordon asked accusingly. "Also, how many hearts have you broken? I am sorry for all those engines you likely left alone, after tricking them into believing you loved them back."
Olive lost it, and bumped Gordon hard, causing his tender to derail.
"This is for insulting me! And for having me sent to Kirk Ronan!"
"Sent to Kirk Ronan?! What are you talking about?!" asked Gordon.
"Like hell you don't know!" Olive shouted. "You're the reason my nonstop train got sent down to Kirk Ronan instead of Tidmouth like it was supposed to!"
"I had no hand on that!" Gordon snapped. "I'm not the one in charge of where trains go!"
"You know something? I can reach a hundred miles per hour. I'll show you! And those weren't even your stupid LNER coaches, they were GNR ones!"
Gordon stared in shock, and Olive realised what she had said. She began thinking of an excuse to try and cover it up.
"Um, well…"
Gordon shot steam at Olive's face, burning her.
"Ugh! Son of a bitch! I'll make you pay for that!"
"NOBODY'S PAYING ANYBODY FOR ANYTHING!" shouted the Fat Director.
"Sir?" asked both engines.
"For your information, Gordon," said the Fat Director, "mistakes happen. Olive most likely saw the Great Northern teaks and thought they were your LNER teaks. With the train running late, there wouldn't be any time to see for sure."
"Yes, that's exactly it!" said Olive.
"As for you, Olive," said the Fat Director, "I was the one who had your nonstop train go down to Kirk Ronan, not Gordon: he doesn't have the power to control points and decide the timetable. You didn't say you wanted the run to go to Tidmouth, and passengers have been wanting a fast service to Kirk Ronan anyway. Therefore, Gordon isn't to blame for you going down to Kirk Ronan."
Before Gordon or Olive said something else, the Fat Director spoke again.
"Engines on my railway do not get into violent tussles with each other," he said. "You two better apologise. I do not expect you to become friends, but I do expect you to start acting civilly around each other. If I hear about any violent encounters between the two of you again, I'll be sure to lock you both in the sheds. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes sir," said Olive and Gordon. That said, neither was willing to apologise: it would mean admitting they were wrong, something Gordon couldn't comprehend, unable to see how he was responsible for the coaches being damaged. As for Olive, if she apologised, she would have to admit she had damaged Gordon's teaks and replaced them with the GNR ones. Then Gordon would never let her hear the end of it and she couldn't have that.
"One hundred miles per hour. Tomorrow," she said to herself, as she went into one of the berths. She was determined to get her run whatever it took.