"Next to the sheds? What sort of life is she living?"

"I'm afraid I warned you, madam."

"Working class…gross."

"Need I remind you that without work, you wouldn't exist?" TKE #3 asked, steaming up to the woman in the station platform. "It's work that allows you to make money after all."

"Whatever. Take me to Ffarquhar Sheds. I need to see her."

"See who? There's lots of females living in Ffarquhar," TKE #3 pointed out.

"Jewelie. My daughter."

The Coffee Pot just stared, thinking he was hearing things.

"Come again?"

"I heard my daughter married a commoner who lives in the sheds. Take me to the sheds."

"Sorry madam, I'm not on passenger duty today. Besides, the sheds aren't too far, surely you can walk there."

She pulled some gold coins from her purse.

"This is real gold. Will you take me there?"

The driver nodded quickly, while TKE #3 gave an exasperated look to his sister.

"And I thought Olive had a greedy driver," he said.

Thomas was surprised to see TKE #3 steaming into the siding near the garden.

"Don't you have a stone train to collect?" he asked.

"Some posh passenger paid my driver to give her a ride here," said TKE #3. "In all honesty, I was hoping my problem of pouring out dirty water would occur right now."

The woman stepped down, walked over the garden, and knocked on the back door.

"Connie, did you hear that? Why did someone knock on our back door?"

"Beats me. I'll answer." Conan walked to the back door with a scone on his mouth.

"Yesh? How can I help you?"

"Does Jewelie Owens live here? I have something to tell her."

"What do you want with my wife?"

"Your wife? You're Conan? Honestly, I wasn't expecting someone who talks with food in their mouth."

"You came in unannounced. Who are you, anyways?"

"My name is Annabella Harold. And I'm Jewelie Harold's mother. Or should I say, Jewelie Owens' mother."

Neither Conan, nor Jewelie could believe it.

"M-M-Mother? You're…YOU'RE ALIVE?!"

"I thought you had forgotten about me, since we left you here so many years ago."

"Forgot?! I thought I had poisoned you!"

"That didn't happen…I do wonder, who did you grow up with? After we left for Saint Barbara, we had to leave you behind due to some trouble. Please, allow me to explain more inside."

As it turned out, Jewelie's birth family was filthy rich. When they ran into trouble, they had to leave Sodor and hide on Saint Barbara, an island in the Caribbean. With nobody willing to take her in for some odd reason, her parents had no choice but to leave her in an orphanage, where she would be adopted by the man she really considered her father.

"Your father died a month ago. His will left everything to you. His baronetcy, his wealth, and ownership of the Saint Barbara Railway we invested in upon arrival. I must admit, however…that I didn't expect you to marry…his kind."

"Hey, watch what you say to me!" Jewelie snapped. "I don't care if you're my real mother, nobody insults my Connie!"

"What I mean is, I expected you to find a gentleman of enough class…If you're happy with him, however…I must ask, do you have children?"

"Yes we do, he's right here."

Jewelie showed Stuart to her mother. The sleeping baby woke up and giggled. Anabella tried to reach for him, but a menacing growl caught her attention. She looked down to see Spike, who didn't seem to trust her.

"Do you let your pet sleep with the baby? Does the dog protect him?"

"Spike is really attached to Stuart. I think he believes our baby to be his brother

"You could say that," said Conan, picking up the puppy. "Spike, it seems, considers us his family. His pack, if you will."

The puppy barked in agreement. Mrs. Harold didn't seem to know what to think. This was her son in law? She then noticed a peculiar picture: it was one of Conan and Jewelie in their wedding attire standing in front of Thomas the Tank Engine in Vicarstown.

"I'm guessing you work as a locomotive driver?" "

"That's right, and that engine is Thomas, he's the one I drive."

"And I," said Jewelie, "am Tidmouth's Shedmaster."

Mrs. Harold spat out the tea she was drinking when she heard that. She had expected her daughter to live from her money once she inherited it, but it seemed she had managed to get into a different position than expected.

"Shedmaster?! You?! But…but…"

"What? I'm a woman? You'll find our general manager, Sir Topham Hatt, as well as our chairman, Albert Regaby, are able to look past society: they follow their own ideals, not those of what everyone else does."

"Uh, right," said Mrs. Harold. "Now Conan… How much do you make?"

"Really? You're asking a personal question?" Conan asked.

"Yes."

"Around a hundred pounds daily."

"That little?! You can't provide for my girl and my grandson with that amount."

"He can, and he does," snorted Jewelie.

"Can I talk with both of you, separately?"

Conan checked his watch. The current time was two hours to one o'clock, Thomas would be due out again soon.

"I got a passenger run. Why don't you talk while I am away? I'm sure you two will have plenty of time to catch up with each other."

As soon as he left, Jewelie snapped.

"Why did you ask how much he made? That's personal! You know better than to ask such details!"

"I needed to know if he could care for your son, and seeing as he seems to be much too busy driving…"

Jewelie held up a hand.

"I know exactly what you're going to say, and I'm going to make one thing clear: just because he isn't around all day doesn't mean he can't provide for us. I also make my own money, but we have a shared finance."

"Honestly, you could have a better 's dirt poor, and I don't approve."

"Conan and I share more than you could ever realise," said Jewelie. "And I'm through discussing this. Now, are you going to change the subject, or do I have to kick you out? Since you're in my house, I have every right to evict you by any means necessary."

"Since you're so insistent, I'll change the subject." said Mrs. Harold, "Who exactly was the man who adopted you from that orphanage?"

Outside, Conan explained the whole situation to Thomas as they took Annie and Clarabel into the platform.

"Wow! Travelling all the way from the Caribbean just to see her lost daughter? Honestly, she should've just stayed there: it's much warmer than Britain ever will be," the E2 snorted.

"Haha. Jokes aside, it is. I would love to take Jewelie on a vacation there."

"And, you say she's rich? Maybe you can go to the Caribbean!"

"That surprised me as well. Never would have imagined my wife would be a noble. I don't know what to think."

"You're hurt."

"Thanks, captain obvious."

"In any case, this inheritance, you think you'll be taking it?" asked Thomas.

"I doubt it: no way I'd be leaving you behind," said Conan. "Except for moments like now when I need to get into Clarabel."

Conan left the cab at that moment and walked over to Clarabel. Thomas was left with the fireman, deep in his thoughts.

Once the train returned to Ffarquhar, (late, because of Henry), Thomas and Conan heard the arguing.

"Wow! Clearly she ain't happy with her mother, not that I'm surprised," said Thomas. "I wouldn't be approving of a mother who abandoned me either. And, why do you say she doesn't like you?"

"No idea. I just…have this feeling…That it's because my family isn't precisely rich."

"And a good thing they aren't," snorted Thomas. "Rich people are nothing but snobs, just look at the Fernby family. Especially their daughter. I'm willing to bet she's swimming around doing Billinton-knows-what with her new fancy husband while bossing around her servants right now, while daddy Samy is enjoying the high life off in Jamaica."

"How do you know Samy Fernby?" asked a nearby passenger.

"Really? You're asking such a stupid question?"

"For crying out loud, I just moved here!" snapped the passenger.

"Then how do you already know about Samy Fernby?!" Conan pointed out.

"I met a guy by that name during my time in Rugby. Said he could find a cure for my terminally-ill son when the doctors wouldn't. No idea what happened to him after he performed the cure, though my son hasn't exactly been the same since then."

Thomas and Conan looked at each other.

"We should tell the Fat Director about this as soon as possible," said Thomas.

When Conan returned to the house, he was surprised to see Mrs. Harold storming out. Neither said a word to each other. He went inside once she was out of sight.

"I take it from that it didn't go well?" he asked.

"As well as it could go," snorted Jewelie. "And if I'm honest, I'm glad she didn't take me to the Caribbean with her. She insisted I take the inheritance."

"Will you?"

"Maybe, but the worst part is she wanted me to abandon you. As if I'd ever do that! You're the only man I could ever love!"

Conan sighed softly, relieved to hear that.

"Thanks Jewelie."

"Don't mention it."

All the same, Conan couldn't help but wonder whether she should have accepted that inheritance or not.

So much so, he decided to take a walk that night to clear his head. He knew which parts of the town to avoid, as crime had recently rose in those parts. Even so, as he walked near one of these, something drew him towards a dark alley: a familiar scream.

"Could that be… I-I g-got to know."

It was Ms. Harold. Three thugs were demanding money from her, and had corned her against a wall. One was now trying to grab her purse, while she was trying to fight back. Conan thought fast.

"HEY!" he shouted. The thugs stopped what they were doing and turned to him. "Pick on someone your own size, assholes!" he called out.

"Like you?" one of the thugs asked. Conan picked up a rock and threw it at that thug. "HEY! I'll get you for that! Come on boys" And the thugs charged towards Conan, dropping Mrs. Harold as they did.

Those thugs didn't have guns, only knives. Which, as it turned out, they didn't know how to use properly. Conan, on the other hand, had kept a pistol ever since the beginning of the year. He pulled it out and shot it at the thugs. One bullet hit a thug, the other two flew past them. Like the cowards they were, the others ran and abandoned their partner. Conan took no notice of this, instead, running up to Mrs. Harold.

"Are you alright, madam?" he asked. "They didn't hurt you, did they?"

"No, they did not… I got to ask, why do you carry a gun?"

"To keep my wife and son safe. All the way back in January, eleven months ago, a loon threatened to hurt them unless I helped with something. I don't want a repeat of that ever happening again."

The woman had found new respect for her son in law. She didn't say a word as Conan took her back to his house.

Once there, couple and mother sat across from each other, an awkward silence ensuing. MRs. Harold broke it.

"I…I was wrong," she said. "Jewelie, you have nothing but an excellent husband. He's resourceful and willing to put his life on the line to keep you and your child safe. I must apologise for my earlier comments."

"Well," said Jewelie, "I'm not sure I can forgive you so easily, especially considering how you told me that Conan doesn't deserve me. But if he can forgive you, then I will too. But I do have a few conditions. For one, I don't want to hear anymore badtalk about my husband. He more than deserves me."

"That is something I can do."

"Secondly, I do not want to hear anything regarding that inheritance. We'll decide by ourselves whether or not we want that money, and right now, we're well-off enough with our finances. And lastly, while I appreciate the offer to send Stuart to boarding school, I don't find that necessary, nor do I wish to spend considerable long periods of time away from my boy before he grows up. Other than that, you can stay with us and spend time with your grandson."

"Alright dear. I accept your conditions," said Mrs. Harold.

Jewelie smiled, eager to know something had gone right with her mother for once. She even thought about revealing their greatest secret. But then she decided there wasn't any need to. They could just be a family. Conan couldn't help but feel relieved: he thought Mrs. Harold would be more reluctant.

"Anyway, who exactly was the man I was engaged to?" she asked.

"Well," said Mrs. Harold, "that man you're referring to…"

Meanwhile, the last express from London that day arrived. A red headed, grey-eyed man with glasses was on board.

"Today's the day. Tomorrow by this hour we'll be married, just like we were supposed to be, uh…" He began counting with his fingers, trying to recall how long ago this had been arranged.

Little did he know, a large surprise was incoming.

To be continued…