Author's note: I didn't intend such a long break between chapters but this one ended up becoming quite long. You'd think being stuck at home all the time during a global pandemic would mean more time for writing, but clearly not in my case... Liberties have been taken with Nia's backstory.

(Enclosed in a letter sent by Mr C. Juma, Dar es Salaam)

My dear friend Nia! I have asked my driver to write down my message as I wanted to speak to you in my own words.

How are your wheels? How is your boiler? How are your pistons? I hear the tracks have taken you all the way to Sodor! I had never heard of the island but my driver has been doing some research and it sounds like a wonderful place. Perhaps one day I will be lucky enough to visit you and see it for myself.

We were all so pleased to receive the letter from your crew. I will admit that when Kobe told me that you had been loaded onto a ship for Brazil, I thought I would never hear from you again and it upset me greatly. You were always a good friend to me and I hope we can continue that friendship despite the distance between us.

Now, to your question. I am sorry to say that I have not seen Shomari for quite some time – not since before your departure from the EAR, in fact. I promise that I will ask about him in Kampala the next time I am there. Try not to worry. The railway is so big and there are so many engines, it would be quite easy for the two of us to keep missing one another. I have not seen Little Grace in a long time either although I am not too unhappy about that!

I think of you both every time I pass the junction where your shed used to stand – it is gone now, and there are new buildings springing up all around. You would not recognise the place if you were ever to return.

I hope the engines of your new railway are keeping you well and I hope to hear from you again,

Kwaku

xxx

Little Grace had dropped the bombshell which had shattered Nia's comfortable existence. It was hardly surprisingly, the ugly little box of a tank engine from the old Tanganyika Railway had always enjoyed being the bearer of bad news. She had looked particularly self-satisfied as she had informed them that the branch line had been deemed 'uneconomical' and was closing, the land had been sold to build some kind of industrial centre and Shomari was being relocated to Kampala. "Why are they sending you back?" she had taunted. "Have the Kenyans run out of patience with you, Mister Proud Ugandan Engine? Or have they tired of hearing your boring voice?"

Remaining silent and refusing to rise to her insults, Shomari had stared coolly down at her. Nia had always admired his ability to stay calm under pressure, disappointed that she couldn't hold herself in check so resolutely.

"And me? What about me?" she had asked, numb with shock and unable to comprehend the magnitude of the changes ahead. The branch line was the only home she had ever known and Shomari, having been built a few years earlier than Nia herself, had been with her since the beginning, transferred from his original home over the border in Tororo to handle the heavier traffic and to mentor his younger colleague.

"Why would they send you to Uganda? I do not know what they will do with you. Perhaps you will share my shed and we can be the best of friends!" And Grace had rolled away, cackling at the devastation left in her wake. Nia vowed to herself that she would do anything in her power to prevent that possibility being realised. She would rather face the scrapyard than have to endure Grace's proclamations of doom on a daily basis.

Shomari had tried to provide some comfort. "Perhaps we will both go to Kampala. Or you might join Kwaku at Dar es Salaam. Shunting engines are always needed at the docks."

"She might be lying," Nia pointed out, trying to retain her usual optimism.

"Maybe, but she has tended towards honesty in the past. Anyway, it would explain why the track along the branch line has been so poorly maintained recently and why we have worked more on the main line." Shomari sighed. "I've never been to Kampala. The line there hadn't been completed when I worked in Uganda. It will not feel like a homecoming."

Nia felt her spirits plummet. Shomari had already accepted that this was to be his fate, regardless of whether or not Grace's declaration was true. Although she'd always found Shomari's even-tempered approach to life a comfort in the past, what she wanted from him in that moment was rage: the sort of deep, burning anger that fuelled action. Nia was not the kind of engine who would meekly consent to the destruction of her home and she had been mentally gearing up for a fight, fully prepared to argue the case for her branch line. There seemed little point clashing with the management of the East African Railway if she would have to do so alone.

Shomari, sensing her disappointment, had smiled ruefully at her. "This could be an opportunity for you, Nia. After all, you have always said that you would like to see more of the world."

"Not under such circumstances," she had replied, disconsolate. "New experiences don't actually mean very much unless you can return home afterwards to share them with those you care about, you know?"

The days passed by and it became all too apparent that Little Grace's pronouncement had been correct. The number of services along the branch line began to dwindle and eventually the station at the junction with the main line was closed. The junction itself was an important refuelling point on the route between Voi and Nairobi and engines passing through frequently stopped there. Kwaku was a regular visitor and his horrified reaction to the news had finally hammered the reality of the situation home for Nia. This was actually happening and any chance she might have had of preventing the loss of her home had already passed.

From that point onwards, it felt as though time was accelerating, each day shorter than the last. Preparations were made for Shomari's departure, and the big tender engine's placid demeanour began to crack when he learned that his driver and fireman would remain in Kenya as a Ugandan crew had been allocated take him to his new home. As for Nia herself, there remained a frustrating lack of communication. Letters to Head Office in Nairobi went unanswered, phone calls generated promises of information which were never fulfilled. Even Grace was in the dark, although she was quite willing to speculate on the potential fate that might await Nia, and none of her suggestions were reassuring. Unable to picture the future, Nia found that fear rapidly filled the gaps in her imagination. It was hard not to resent Shomari for the fact that he had been chosen and she hadn't, but she managed to seal off those thoughts so as not to spoil the limited time they had left together.

On the morning that Shomari left, the sky was overcast and Nia couldn't suppress a dry smile at how perfectly it reflected her mood. No one had come to light her fire and she felt a horrible emptiness as she watched her friend's new driver and fireman carrying out the usual checks. She would not cry. If the lid came off that particular crate, she doubted it would ever be closed again. Shomari remained stoical, as usual, and his crew worked in near silence, almost as though they respected the solemnity of the situation. The air in the shed was heavy with unspoken words. Nia could almost picture them pressing down against her boiler, but still she couldn't find the right ones to break the tension. All too soon, the larger engine was made ready to depart. She opened her mouth to speak but her mind remained frustratingly blank and all she found she could do was to gaze up at Shomari, completely dumb, hoping that her silence somehow conveyed everything that words couldn't. Shomari looked back at her and gave a fond, sad smile. "Nia, my friend," he said, his tone low and carefully controlled, "I hope the rails take you where you want to go." And with one last whistle, he was gone, rolling slowly past the bulldozer which had arrived to demolish the shed.

As Nia sat there, hollow-eyed and exhausted by her grief, she had been surprised to see her driver and fireman trudging across the tracks towards her, both weighed down with heavy-looking canvas bags.

"We have devised a plan," her driver had told her, resting her hand on the engine's buffer as her fireman climbed into the cab and began his checks. "Nia, we cannot leave you here to rust. We will go to Nairobi and speak to the controllers of the railway. You are a clever, reliable and hard-working engine. They will find a place for you somewhere."

Nia had managed a wan smile, touched by their concern for her welfare. "What are you carrying?"

"Essentials," replied the driver. "If you are transferred to another shed, we will go with you. Who knows, we may end up back here, but it's best to be prepared. "

They had never made it to Nairobi. Thomas had arrived at the junction yard just as they were planning to depart, like a grumpy blue beacon showing Nia another route out of her predicament, and she had followed him, ignoring his evident resentment of her presence. The round-the-world adventure proved to be a distraction and she had thrown herself into it wholeheartedly. It meant she never had to face up to the possibility that Head Office might have intended to scrap her. Nia hadn't previously thought of herself as the sort of engine who would run away when faced with a crisis but when it came down to it, that was exactly how she had reacted, and she felt a certain degree of shame. She had travelled to Sodor looking for a safe haven but in truth, it was nothing more than a hiding place.

xxx

Mornings were always difficult. Nia had lost count of how many times she had woken and been surprised to find herself in Tidmouth Sheds. It was really quite cruel how her mind seemed to reset overnight, leaving her struggling to accept that everything had changed and this was her life now. On a few horrible occasions she had even mistaken the red shape of James in the berth alongside her own for Shomari, a very odd experience as he didn't resemble a Ugandan Railways GD class at all beyond being a tender engine. The shade of red wasn't even the same. It was clearly just wishful thinking overriding the evidence of her own eyes. She wondered if she would ever truly acknowledge the permanence of her new situation.

On this particular morning, as she tried to suppress her memories of Kenya once more, Nia watched silently as Rebecca set off for the day. The larger engine was clearly still hoping to impress the Fat Controller with her work ethic by being the first to leave the sheds. Waiting by the turntable, half asleep after the mail run, Percy cried out in alarm as she rattled past, calling out a cheerful greeting to him. Nia observed his reaction as he realised who had spoken and his face lit up with a delighted smile. "I'm glad Rebecca has come to work here," he murmured sleepily.

Nia maintained a carefully neutral expression, once more hearing what hadn't been said. Her own presence clearly hadn't made as much of an impression on the smaller engine.

Thomas chuckled. "Oh, she's completely won you over with her charms, hasn't she?"

Percy frowned at his friend as he backed into his berth. "Don't tease me, Thomas. Rebecca makes me feel appreciated, that's all. I like being appreciated." There seemed to be a slight edge to his tone, but Thomas's cheerful expression seemed at odds with her assessment and Nia concluded that she must have misjudged the saddle tank's mood. Percy closed his eyes and she turned her attention to the other side of the shed where James was holding forth on the subject of Philip.

Unlike Nia, Gordon had been listening to the red engine's diatribe for some time and at this point his patience ran out. "Oh, do stop embarrassing yourself, James. It's becoming tedious."

James glared at him. "Come on, Gordon, it's not as though you like him any more than I do."

Gordon yawned. "That may be the case, but for some reason you seem to think you have something to prove where Philip is concerned."

"Why would I need to prove anything?" spluttered James. "A splendid engine like me is far superior to a silly little diesel like Philip!"

"Then why do you let him rile you like this? Take my advice: don't rise to it. He'll stop bothering you if you stop reacting when he irritates you."

"Ah yes," Nia said brightly, "that is why Philip never mentions the time he beat Gordon in a race, eh?"

Gordon gave an exasperated groan but refused to dignify the remark with a response, while James's laughter rang out across the tracks. His amusement trailed off abruptly as he noticed the Fat Controller exiting his car and making a beeline for him across the tracks, clipboard in hand.

"Good morning, everyone. Now, James, I've heard all about your near-miss with Henry last night."

"But that wasn't my fault, sir!" James declared, aggrieved.

The Fat Controller waved away his protests. "Yes, yes, I know. Henry has been completely upfront about missing the signal. Unfortunately it seems that he has sustained some damage to his brakes and he's now being checked over at the Steamworks. I'll need you to take over the majority of his jobs today, I'm afraid." He handed a sheet of paper to James's driver and paused, giving the red engine a stern look. "It also means you'll be taking the Flying Kipper tonight."

James's face fell, and Nia saw a sudden flash of – was that fear? - cross his face before it was replaced by the more familiar pout. "Does it have to be me, sir? Perhaps Rebecca-"

"Rebecca," said his owner firmly, "has a busy day of express services ahead of her, as does Gordon. Honestly, James, I don't see why we have to go through this performance every time Henry is unavailable. You are the reserve engine for the Kipper and that's the last I want to hear of the matter. Now, Emily," he turned away, "you'll be taking some of James's jobs in turn. Oh, and Nia, you'll be working in Knapford yard again today." As he walked towards the Stirling engine, Gordon chortled unsympathetically and James sighed heavily. At Nia's raised eyebrow, he muttered quietly, "I shouldn't have to pull disgusting fish trains."

There was something in his expression which she couldn't make out, something in his eyes which hinted that the reason for his unhappiness went far deeper than self-importance but for the time being she let it pass. "You're too splendid an engine for that, eh?" she teased, allowing him to save face.

James winked, his face brightening as she'd intended. "Of course."

When Nia had first arrived on Sodor, Thomas had advised caution where James was concerned. "He's a bit of a joker, but he sometimes takes it too far. Watch out when you're around him, Nia, you don't want to be on the receiving end of one of his pranks."

Indeed, her first real encounter with the red engine hadn't initially seemed promising. As she backed into Tidmouth Sheds on her first night on the island, trying to ignore Gordon's protests, she became aware that James was watching her closely, inspecting the design emblazoned across her tanks. Emily had noticed too and was smiling knowingly. "Worried you've got a rival when it comes to impressive paintwork, James?" she asked, amused.

"The Fat Controller probably won't let you keep those decorations, you know," James had declared pessimistically.

"Don't listen to him, Nia. James and I had special decorations added to our livery when we competed in the Great Railway Show a few years ago and he's still bitter that the Fat Controller wouldn't let him keep them."

James pouted. "He said they were impractical for an efficiently-run railway. They would take too long to repaint."

"I agree with him," Emily remarked. "I don't like being stuck in the Steamworks for any longer than I have to be."

"That's all very well for you, but I make an effort to look after my paintwork. I expect I could have kept it smart for longer than you would."

"Then I will follow your example, James," Nia had told him with a smile. "I would hate to lose my decorations, they remind me of my homeland, and your paintwork does look immaculate."

It had been the correct move. James had returned her smile and a tentative alliance was formed, one that rapidly developed into a genuine friendship. Nia appreciated the red engine's unsentimental efforts to make her feel welcome and his sense of humour. Both felt far more natural than Emily's rather forceful attempts to befriend her, not that she had any right to criticise, having used exactly the same approach herself on Thomas back in Africa. James didn't let her dwell on the past, tending to divert the conversation with light-hearted remarks which probably appeared flippant to the others, but he remembered everything she said about her time in Kenya and Nia took that as a sign that he did care. She wasn't entirely sure why he had taken such a shine to her. Thomas had rather dismissively suggested that having a new engine lavishing attention upon him was exactly the ego boost the NWR's number 5 craved but Nia had noticed that he didn't seek out Rebecca's company in the same way. But then, she admonished herself, did there have to be a reason? Was this cynical expectation of an ulterior motive just another manifestation of her anxiety over her position?

Now, as she looked at his crestfallen face, Nia realised that there was a solution which could benefit them both. "Well then, why don't I take the fish train instead? You don't want to do it and I would be more than happy to get out of the yard and be properly useful for a change."

James looked at her in silence for a moment, his expression unreadable. When he spoke, Nia was surprised at the sincerity in his tone. "That's really kind of you. Honestly, Nia, I appreciate the offer more than you know. I can't take you up on it, I'm afraid. There's a reason Henry usually takes the Kipper. It's far too heavy for a tank engine."

"Oh." Hopes dashed, Nia sighed. "Another day in the yard it is, then."

"With Philip," James added, clearly unable to let the matter drop. "I don't envy you that."

Nia laughed softly. "I've told you before, I like working with Philip. As a new engine on the North Western, I find it helpful to spend time with someone who talks so much. I've learned so much about the railway from him, you know?"

"I can answer questions about the railway. I've been here much longer than he has," James pointed out sullenly.

She smiled at him. "You do answer my questions. You have been a great help to me, but you have your own work to do, travelling across the island while I must stay in the yard."

"I'm sure it won't last forever," James consoled her. "Thomas, Percy and Duck all started out as station pilots. Once the Fat Controller realises what you're capable of, he's bound to find a better job for you."

"Travelling around the world wasn't enough?" Nia tried to keep the bitterness she felt from entering her voice and it sounded small as a result.

"Fair point." James looked pensive but his crew were ready to go and there was no time for further conversation. "Something will turn up, I'm sure. Right then, off I go for a busy day of being Henry. Perhaps I can get myself bricked up in a tunnel. That would definitely get me out of pulling the Kipper."

Deep in thought, Nia's eyes followed him as he departed. It was clear to her that something about the fish train had unsettled her new friend and the fact that the others hadn't really reacted to his discomfort, even to tease him, suggested that they were unaware that there was an issue. Nia was a problem-solver by nature and she enjoyed nothing more than a puzzle. Here was a mystery that had presented itself to her and, regardless of whether it was the wisest course of action or not, the temptation to solve it would be hard to resist.

Xxx

"Is it too much to ask that we go for a few weeks without having some sort of adventure?"

Thomas's driver, sitting on the otherwise deserted Ffarquhar station platform, looked up in surprise at the fireman leaning from his engine's cab. Thomas frowned. He hadn't expected his proposal to be met with quite such negativity.

"We can't just go gallivanting off again at the drop of a hat," the fireman continued. "We blotted our copybooks pretty badly when we left for Dakar and we only just managed to hold onto our jobs. The Fat Controller isn't likely to be so forgiving again."

"We'd get his approval this time," Thomas assured him. "We'd make sure it was all official."

"What makes you think he'll approve? We've been away for months without permission-"

"The Fat Controller also dropped everything and raced off after us," interrupted the driver. "I don't think he has much right to haul us over the coals after abandoning his post like that."

Undeterred, the fireman continued. "And that's coming after the incident at the steelworks-"

"We weren't blamed for that," the driver interrupted again, waving his mug of tea rather recklessly this time to emphasise his point. "We were encouraged to press charges against the steelworks' management, after all."

"I'd imagine any sympathy people felt towards us ran out pretty quickly when we jumped on a ship for Senegal." The fireman folded his arms and leaned back. "I think we'd be pushing our luck too far. We're supposed to be working here, not in India."

"We're not exactly busy at the moment." Thomas looked around. They had a long wait before the next service was due to depart and the passengers hadn't yet begun to arrive. Annie and Clarabel had taken advantage of the opportunity to have a nap, the guard had retired to read the paper and the autumnal chill in the air had persuaded the station staff to occupy themselves indoors. It had seemed like the ideal time to pitch his idea to his crew. He hadn't taken Clarabel's advice, of course. He knew Toby and Percy would be unhappy about it and he had decided not to tell them unless the Fat Controller agreed to let him go. There was no point upsetting his friends over plans which could very easily come to nothing. His driver and fireman, however, were integral to the success of the scheme and would have to be persuaded somehow.

His driver contemplated his tea thoughtfully. Thomas watched the wisps of steam rising from it and wondered idly how such an insubstantial thing could create enough power to move an engine as heavy as Gordon.

The fireman wasn't finished. "No offence intended, Thomas, but you don't really understand how things work in the human world. I used up all of my savings on our last jaunt. And because I didn't know how long we'd be away, I didn't leave enough money for my rent. I got home to find that my landlady had let my room to another tenant and all my belongings were in boxes in the loft."

"But if we were on some kind of promotional tour as Thomas suggests, we'd be on official railway business," the driver pointed out. "We'd still be getting paid. Come on, mate, what happened to your sense of adventure?"

"It got knocked off a Chinese mountain by an avalanche," the fireman returned dryly. Thomas winced. He was well aware that if it hadn't been for Yong Bao's timely intervention, he could have killed himself, Nia and all four of their crew members.

The driver just grinned into his mug. "I know what this is about. There's a girl, isn't there? Some sweetheart that you don't want to be parted from?"

The fireman glared. "That's none of your business, Bob!"

"Just as I thought," the driver smirked triumphantly. "Who is she? Irene from the post office?

She was definitely making eyes at you when we saw her at Dryaw."

"That's enough!" snapped the fireman, withdrawing into Thomas's cab. "I don't want to talk to you about my private life. Besides, it's hardly as though you're an expert on the subject of romance, is it?"

"I might not be," returned the driver, regarding the dregs of his tea with an air of exaggerated consideration, "but our engine appears to be rather knowledgeable on the matter."

"What?" Thomas stared at him in surprise. He had a horrible feeling that he knew which way the conversation was heading.

"You want to travel halfway across the world to see an engine you spent a couple of days with a few years ago," his driver explained, amused. "Sounds to me like you're smitten, old thing! It's a compelling tale of lovers separated by circumstance and reunited against the odds, and you," he gestured to the fireman, "will be the kind-hearted adventurer whose selfless actions bring the two together again. How can Irene from the post office resist such a romantic soul? Hang on, though – does Ashima feel the same way? It'll throw a pretty big spanner in the works if she doesn't."

"It's not like that," Thomas objected, scowling at him. "We're friends, that's all! Stop making fun of me!"

"Methinks the engine doth protest too much," chuckled the driver, glancing over at the fireman.

"Stop it!" Thomas was finding this incredibly uncomfortable: this was human stuff and he really didn't want to talk about it.

The driver placed the now empty mug on the bench and rose, moving to stand before him and suddenly looking serious. "You're going to have to level with me here, Thomas. You're sending some very mixed messages and if you want me to back you up when you speak to the Fat Controller, I'll need to be clear about what's going on. Do you really want to go to India because you're desperate to see Ashima? Or is she a convenient excuse for you to go off and see some more of the world?"

Thomas stared blankly at him, feeling exposed. Truth be told, he hadn't really examined his feelings in any depth, preferring instead to rush headlong towards his intended goal with all his usual recklessness. It was easier that way; it meant he could continue to push aside the fear that time was slipping away from him. But now, with his driver scrutinising him so keenly, he realised that he couldn't continue to dodge the question, and if it became apparent that he hadn't given his plan due consideration, he wouldn't get anywhere. As he desperately searched for some way of hinting that he had set his heart on visiting Ashima without opening himself up to ridicule, he heard a diesel horn sound behind him. Mavis's timing was impeccable, and Thomas gratefully seized on the chance to divert the conversation, whistling in reply.

The quarry engine gave him a questioning look as she drew alongside him. "Nothing to do, Thomas? It's all right for some."

"I'm waiting for passengers," Thomas informed her. "Anyway, I thought you liked getting out of the quarry now and again?"

"Getting out of the quarry relies on spending some time in the quarry to begin with," retorted Mavis, rather sharply.

Taken aback by the tone of her voice, Thomas gaped at her. "Why? Where have you been?"

Mavis scowled back at him. "Haven't you spoken to Toby since you got back? We've all been doing your work on top of our own while you've been swanning around the world."

"But I've been back on Sodor for ages!" protested Thomas.

"And I'm still dealing with the backlog!" snapped Mavis, accelerating away. Thomas stared in after her in astonishment.

Behind him, Annie stirred. "I believe there's been some tension between the quarry company and the railway," she explained drowsily. "A big order wasn't delivered on time, just after you left for Africa. Arrangements were made for Mavis to make the majority of quarry deliveries after that as Percy and Toby simply didn't have the capacity."

Thomas sighed heavily, suddenly feeling completely dejected. This, presumably, was what Annie had hinted at when she'd chastised him for not considering the implications of his absence from Sodor. "I'll have to think of some way to make it up to her."

"You will not achieve that by haring off to India," said Annie decisively.

Thomas chewed his lower lip as he watched passengers make their way across the platform. He was torn. He had never intended to cause problems for his friends by pursuing his dream of travelling and he did feel guilty at not realising immediately that the prolonged absence of an engine would have a knock-on effect across the railway. But having had a glimpse of the world beyond Sodor, a chance to actually fulfil an ambition he'd held for so long, he didn't know how he could go back to his previous life. It would seem so restrictive and no one - except possibly Nia, maybe Hiro – would really understand his frustrations. Either way, it seemed likely that conflict lay ahead.

Of course, it could all have been avoided if he'd just seen Ace for the self-centred opportunist he'd turned out to be right from the start. And Thomas's eyes widened in alarm as a rather unpleasant thought struck him: was he going down the same route? Was he using his friendship with Ashima and the goodwill of his colleagues on Sodor in much the same way that Ace had used him to get to the Salt Flats?

Perhaps it would better to abandon the whole idea. Other engines were satisfied with a safe home and steady work. He should try harder to do the same rather than fixating on a life he couldn't have.

His driver had noticed his sudden gloom. "Giving up at the first hurdle?" he queried as he walked to the cab. "I rather think that answers my question."

"Not exactly," Thomas said, only vaguely aware of what a 'hurdle' actually was and hoping he'd correctly picked up the gist. "If the others can't handle the work without me, the Fat Controller isn't going to let me go, is he? I don't want things to go wrong if I'm not here. I can't let my friends down. It is my branch line, after all."

"Oh, so now you appreciate the responsibility!" sniffed Annie.

"Things only went wrong because you weren't here when you were expected to be," remarked Clarabel with a yawn. "Don't go getting puffed up in the smokebox about how important you are."

Thomas mulled this over for a moment, then his eyes lit up. "That's it! Clarabel, you're completely right! Last time, I left without really telling anyone so no plans were made to cover my jobs. This time, I'll go about things the right way and everything will be better organised. I'll make sure that Mavis, Percy and Toby get the help they need and show them that I'm sorry about what happened before!" All the enthusiasm which had fizzled out earlier burned again with renewed vigour and Thomas grinned, relieved that his scheme was back on track and that he could still claim the moral high ground over Ace. "I'll prove that I can take responsibility and go to India!"

"Now look what you've done, Clarabel!" Annie scolded.

"You know how he is, Annie," sighed her companion. "He's irrepressible. Ideas get firmly stuck in his mind, there's nothing anyone can do to shake them."

"Actively encouraging him is hardly the best way to go about addressing that!"

Thomas intervened before the disagreement could become a full-blown argument. "Stop it, you two, you'll alarm the passengers. Nothing is guaranteed. The Fat Controller might say no. But that's no reason not to ask. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, as they say."

Inside his cab, the driver turned to the fireman. "It's settled, then. Are you with us?"

The fireman cleared his throat awkwardly. "I suppose I could have a word with Irene," he mumbled, obviously embarrassed. "If she's prepared to wait for me... well, at least I'll know where I stand."

"Good man," the driver said approvingly, slapping him on the back. "Well, then, Thomas, there's no time like the present. When we get to Knapford, I'll make arrangements for us to speak with the Fat Controller."

Thomas whistled joyfully, hardly able to contain his glee as he pulled away from the station. Everything was falling into place and in that moment, with the potential for adventure and a reunion with Ashima shimmering away on the horizon, he was as happy as he had ever been.

xxx

At the same time, the Fat Controller was engaged in a serious discussion with another of the branch line tank engines and had Thomas known about it, he would have been deeply concerned.

"An overhaul? But Percy, that's simply not possible right now. For one thing, you're not due to be overhauled for a good few years, and for another, Charlie hasn't returned to service yet. I can't afford to have two tank engines undergoing maintenance at the same time if neither of them actually need repairs."

"Oh." Disappointment flooded though the green engine. "I'm just so tired, sir," he mumbled plaintively. "I thought perhaps there might be something wrong with me."

The Fat Controller cast a practised eye over him, as though inspecting him for visible faults. "You have been working very hard recently, Percy," he said, his tone reassuring. "I'm sure that's all it is. I understand that you did a magnificent job of running Thomas's branch line while he was away."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir." Percy found he couldn't even summon up the energy to show his appreciation of the praise.

Upon hearing that James had successfully persuaded the Thin Controller to keep him on the Main Line, Percy had accepted the responsibility of looking after the Ffarquhar branch with a grim determination. This was something practical he could do to help his friend, something to focus on to distract him from the hollow feeling that had struck him when Thomas's absence was first discovered. When Thomas came back, he would be able to triumphantly show him that he had kept everything running smoothly. And if that horrible fear that continually lurked at the back of his mind were to be borne out, he would take over his friend's role as a tribute, pledging to make sure that no one ever forgot the blue engine who had taken such pride in his branch line.

It hadn't quite worked out the way he'd hoped. Thomas was back now and had apparently taken offence at James's refusal to act as his substitute. Percy's own contribution seemed to have been overlooked. Should have expected that, he thought miserably.

"I heard that Toby fell asleep at a level crossing the other day."

Percy looked up at this, making no attempt to hide his alarm. "He isn't in trouble, is he, sir?"

The Fat Controller shook his head slowly. "No, but I am concerned. Is the workload really that heavy? I'd appreciate it if you would be honest with me."

Percy gulped. While he had no qualms about admitting that he was struggling, he didn't really want attention to also be thrown upon Toby without his friend's knowledge. "N-no... well, it's just... we had to do Thomas's work while he was away, and when he came back, we were just starting the summer season when all the tourists arrive and it gets really busy. Things are easier now autumn's here, but we... well, we haven't had much chance to rest. And I feel... worn out, sir. There must be bits of me which need replacing."

He would never admit it to the Fat Controller, but the exhaustion wasn't just physical, hence his appeal to be taken out of service for a while. Only Toby knew the extent to which his fears for Thomas's safety had plagued him, and the hurt he felt at being abandoned by his closest friend. Percy was tired of thinking, tired of working, tired of being taken for granted. Everyone had their limits and he had definitely passed his some time ago.

"You haven't had some kind of falling out with Thomas, have you?" There was a shrewd look on the Fat Controller's face, and Percy wondered for a split second if he had read his mind.

"No, sir, of course not," he said solemnly. It wasn't technically a lie. There hadn't been any arguments because Percy was doing a surprisingly good job of keeping his mouth shut. Whether that would continue for much longer, what with the Merlin incident, he honestly didn't know.

"This is just like old times," the Fat Controller remarked, a hint of amusement evident in his voice. "It's been a long time since you last came to see me to complain of being overworked. Well then, I'll rearrange the timetables and schedule you in for a visit to the Steamworks in the morning, just to be sure that you aren't in need of any repairs. After that, I think a short break from the branch line might do you good." He paused, clearly weighing up the options. Little Western, Percy thought, as if he could transmit the idea telepathically. Please send me to the Little Western!

His wish went unanswered. "You can come back to Knapford and work in the yard for a few days. I'll find another engine to cover for you on the branch line and speak to Toby about the situation. How does that sound?"

"Thank you, sir." Percy tried to mask his disappointment with an expression of gratitude. He wasn't entirely sure that his efforts were successful.

xxx

Anyone passing Tidmouth Sheds would probably think he was in disgrace. James was actually quite indignant at the prospect of being judged on his past behaviour when, on this occasion, he was completely innocent. He was currently occupying himself by trying to decide what facial expression would best convey his displeasure at being so maligned, just in case one of the Little Western engines happened to pass by.

It helped to distract him from the unhappy thought of the job he would have to carry out that night.

He hadn't wanted to return to the sheds in the middle of the afternoon, of course, and had done his utmost to persuade his driver and fireman to continue working, but the decision hadn't been his to make. Two unscheduled late shifts on consecutive nights meant that the crew were entitled to a break and James had been informed in no uncertain terms that his preferences did not outweigh their need for a nap and a substantial meal. This left him with plenty of time to brood on his misfortune and he had concluded that once again Philip was to blame for his current predicament, as Henry wouldn't have damaged his brakes if James hadn't been delayed in the first place.

The sight of a bright orange engine approaching the sheds rather than the anticipated Great Western green was a pleasant surprise, and James felt his spirits lift. Pulling faces at Duck and Oliver was nowhere near as entertaining as an afternoon spent putting the world to rights with someone who shared his slightly caustic sense of humour. "Nia!" he called across the tracks. "Am I glad to see you! I could do with some decent company right now!"

James knew that his friendship with the Kenyan engine had caused a good deal of speculation amongst the others: how could an engine so aware of his own self-image fail to notice when he was being talked about? Gordon in particular had been quite vocal on the subject. Given that he had been downright rude to Nia during her earliest days on the island, James wondered if this was an attempt to stake a claim over the red engine himself, cleaving to what remained of the 'big engine' triumvirate now that Henry had relocated to Vicarstown. He rather liked the idea of being so in demand.

Nia raised her eyes to meet his own as she stopped on the turntable and the forlorn expression on her face sent a stab of regret through him. He should have noticed how unhappy she was, even at a distance, and his greeting now seemed horribly inappropriate. "What's happened?" he asked, hoping that obvious concern would smooth over any damage caused by his previous remark. "Are you in trouble?"

"Judging me by your own standards?" Nia sounded mildly offended, and James ruefully decided that although that hadn't been the outcome he'd been hoping for, indignation was probably better than sadness. "What does it say about you that you think of that before anything else?"

James ignored the question; Nia didn't need to hear about the many occasions when he had had been sent back to the sheds as punishment. "Then why are you here? I can understand that you would want to spend as much time as possible in my glorious presence but the Fat Controller doesn't always appreciate the effect my charisma can have on those around me."

Nia smiled, but only faintly and briefly. "I am not needed in the yard. Philip, Stanley and Stafford are all working there today and there is no work left for me to do."

"Ouch." He understood now. No engine ever wanted to hear that they were surplus to requirements and Nia's experiences in Kenya would make a comment along those lines sting that bit more.

"There's... something more." Nia paused as she backed into her berth, her gaze dropping down to her buffers. When she spoke again, her voice was quiet. "My driver had a letter from my old railway this morning which upset me and she thought I needed some time alone to recover from it."

"Oh." James hesitated, not wanting to upset the smaller engine with the obvious question. "Shomari?"

"No. It was from Kwaku, my friend in Tanzania." Nia sighed. James thought she seemed smaller somehow. "He has not seen Shomari and there is still no news."

African geography was not James's strong point. "Is Kampala near Tanzania, then?"

Nia laughed weakly. "Kampala is in Uganda, James, a completely different country. Our railway is so big that Kwaku often travels very long distances to deliver goods to and from the docks at Dar es Salaam. It is possible that they both keep missing each other, but the letters my driver has sent to the sheds at Kampala have not been answered and I can't help but worry..." She trailed off uncomfortably. "What if my fears are justified?"

A long-forgotten memory suddenly broke through: Percy, in these same sheds in the dark of the night, voicing the awful dread that had been preoccupying them all in a barely audible whisper, 'What if they've scrapped him and they don't want to tell us?" He had looked over at Gordon and seen his own fear reflected back at him in the larger engine's face-

It took some effort, but James managed to force the recollection from his mind. Not now, not when Nia deserved his full attention, not that he had any clue what he could do or say to make her feel better. He wished he was better at handling situations like this. "I don't know what to say," he confessed.

"What is there to say? Perhaps I am worrying about nothing. Perhaps Shomari is safe and happy. I just wish I knew either way, you know?"

James hummed vaguely. He knew all too well the effect that the absence of information could have on an engine. It wasn't Henry's accident itself which came to mind when he thought of the Flying Kipper, it was that terrible, drawn-out time spent waiting for help to arrive, knowing that something horrific had happened to his friend but unable to do anything to ease his suffering. By the time Edward had appeared with the breakdown train and a relief crew, James had been frantic. And then had followed months of uncertainty as the remaining engines waited to see if Henry really would return as promised. It had been a difficult time for them all.

"James?" Nia was looking at him in curiosity and he realised that he had allowed his focus to drift again. "Is something troubling you?"

"Of course not. I'm fine." Thomas had told James that Nia was clever, and he had come to realise over the last few weeks that she was remarkably observant. He was going to have to keep his wits about him if he was going to have any chance of protecting his privacy.

Nia frowned slightly as she continued to study him. "You know, James, for an engine who likes to talk about himself so much, you don't really say much of any importance."

"Excuse me?!" James glared, his indignation only partly feigned.

"You don't talk about anything personal. Look at Rebecca: we all know how worried she is about making a good impression and fitting in here. And when Percy is anxious about something, it is obvious to everyone. But you are not so transparent, James. You know more about me than any other engine, even Thomas, and yet I know very little about you in return."

Mollified, James plastered a cheery smile across his face. "Well, maybe that's because there isn't anything more to me. I'm famously superficial, ask anybody."

"I don't believe you," admonished Nia. "You keep your troubles to yourself. I'm starting to think," she added, matter-of-factly, "that you don't trust me."

"Of course I do. What is it that you think I haven't told you?" James returned, trying to keep his tone light and nonchalant. He was losing control of the situation already.

"Do you miss your old railway?"

James looked up in surprise; this was not the question he had been expecting. "I don't really think about it much," he admitted. When he did cast his mind back to his life before joining the North Western, the memories which surfaced tended to be of the smog hanging over Greater Manchester, obscuring his vision and making even black paint look grimy. Sodor, less industrialised with fresh breezes blowing in from the sea, had been a wonderful change. As if to prove the point, the sun emerged from behind a cloud and the buildings of Tidmouth glowed warmly in the golden light of the late autumn afternoon.

"Oh." Nia's expression became sympathetic. "Weren't you happy there?"

"Happy enough, I suppose, although I didn't get to pull coaches. It was an incredibly busy railway, so busy that we were usually exhausted, and none of us engines really had the time to get to know each other very well. There was no one I really missed after I came here, no one who mattered to me as much as Shomari does to you." It sounded terribly lonely when he said it out loud, but he hadn't felt that way back then. It was only when he joined the smaller railway that he had realised life didn't have to be so hectic. "Perhaps that reflects badly on me, but it's just the way things were and I didn't think anything of it at the time. When I heard that the Fat Controller was going to buy me, I was delighted."

"That is the way it should be," said Nia sadly. "A move to a new railway should be looked on as an opportunity."

"I wouldn't have felt the same way if I'd lost a branch line and a good friend," James pointed out. "Besides, I've been back quite a few times over the years with trains for the Mainland so I know how much it's changed since I was there. Sodor has always suited me far better than the Lancashire and Yorkshire ever did, despite everything."

Nia raised an eyebrow. "'Everything'?"

Realising that he had given away rather more he had intended, James scowled and tried to limit the damage. It was better to admit to a partial truth than run the risk of Nia identifying the real cause of his agitation. "You know more about me than you think, Nia. I don't believe for one minute that Thomas hasn't given you all of the details of how he got his branch line. And you've heard the others teasing me about destroying the sheds, and tar tankers and all the rest of it. Is it any wonder I don't want to talk about it?"

"Gordon is right about you, isn't he?" Nia asked softly, looking at him with interest. "You do feel that you have something to prove."

"Bursting into flames and crashing into a cow field on your first day will have that effect." Nia snorted and he realised how overly dramatic he must have sounded. "That might have been a slight exaggeration," he conceded.

"Thomas did tell me about your wooden brakeblocks," said Nia soothingly. "I thought you weren't held responsible for the crash, eh?"

"I wasn't, but the crash itself wasn't the end of it." James glowered at the memory. "Even though I couldn't be blamed for the problem with my brakes, everyone assumed that because I had crashed, I couldn't be trusted to pull trains. The Fat Controller made me work with Edward so I could be properly instructed and, oh, he was so condescending! I wasn't a new, inexperienced engine, fresh out of the works, I'd been running for years on my old railway without any problems at all, and suddenly I was being treated like some kind of fool who didn't have the first idea how to do the one thing I'd been built for. It was humiliating!" he spat, anger rising despite the years that had gone by. He wasn't completely without blame, of course. He had been so eager to prove his worth when he returned to service that he had made silly mistakes and let his temper get the better of him, leading to the incident with the bootlace which still caused so much amusement amongst the others. But although James was charitable enough to let the discussion take this course in order to distract Nia from her own concerns, he wasn't prepared to sacrifice all of his dignity by divulging the full story and he decided against mentioning it.

"I understand," Nia said carefully. "You feel you are being judged constantly because you didn't make the right impression when you arrived."

"Precisely. And when I try to demonstrate what I'm capable of, they just think I'm showing off." Because it always goes wrong, he added silently. Because there's always a tar tanker further down the line, in some form or another.

"And the fish train...?" Nia asked tentatively.

"No one bar Henry enjoys taking the Kipper," He had said it so many times that it had become an automatic response. "Ask Emily or Gordon, they've taken it before. For some reason, it's only funny when I complain."

Dry leaves skittered across the tracks before them. The wind was getting up. James hoped it wasn't going to rain, pulling the Kipper was enough of a challenge in favourable conditions.

Nia caught his eye, looking apologetic. "I'm sorry, James. I was just curious. I didn't mean to upset you."

James found his anger dissipate as her despondent expression returned, and for a moment he was tempted to let down his guard and tell Nia everything, to get it out in the open at last. He was so fed up of it all. But he dismissed the thought almost as soon as it crossed his mind. No one would understand. It was unreasonable for the accident to haunt him as it did, so many years after it had occurred. Anyway, James didn't completely lack sensitivity and he couldn't disregard Nia's perfectly logical and immediate unhappiness in order to shift the focus onto himself, even if others might expect that of him. "It's all right. I suppose it would have all come out eventually anyway. Still, it was nice while it lasted."

"What was?"

James sighed. "I expect it sounds silly, but I... well, I've enjoyed talking to you, knowing that you hadn't heard all about those past incidents. It felt like a fresh start, in a way, having someone on the railway who might... see me differently. Even if only for a while." He could feel his face turning red and he couldn't meet Nia's eyes. He didn't like how desperate he sounded. He couldn't take it back now, he shouldn't have said anything.

"You think knowing this will change my opinion of you?" There was just enough derision in Nia's tone to jolt James out of his self-pity without causing offence, and he looked at the other engine in astonishment to see a reassuring smile on her face. "Don't worry, James, I still think you are the most splendid engine on the North Western Railway."

"Well, there isn't much in the way of competition," James returned, producing his most dazzling smile in return.

And as the two sat in companionable silence and watched as the sun began to set, James found that he didn't feel as uncomfortable as he might have expected after being so forthcoming. Putting the thought of the Flying Kipper from his mind for the time being, he smiled to himself, reflecting that something good had come of Thomas's foolhardy behaviour after all.