The engines on the Island of Sodor were all continuing to work hard and diligently as Kirk Ronan's harbour restoration was still underway, except for one engine in particular. Thomas was sitting in his berth by himself at Tidmouth Sheds, quiet and meek. He had been shut up in his shed for running a red signal with his eyes closed, and Emily was now on double duty to look after his passengers as well as her own work for hesitating to report his behaviour to the Fat Controller. Both engines felt silly with themselves over what had happened, particularly Thomas for seeing Emily reluctantly play favourite with him, to which he confessed everything without hesitation, and so he would stay in his shed for three more days while Emily covered her work and his.
As for the Fat Controller, and Lady Hatt as well, things were going to be quite different. After managing such a busy bustle for the past few months on the harbour restoration and maintaining the rest of the railway as well, the Fat Controller had come to agree with Lady Hatt that a two-week holiday in Scotland along the lines of Wigtownshire would be a well-deserved rest from it all. As they slowly but surely made the necessary arrangements throughout the next day, they thought it best to spend their holiday in the costal village of Portpatrick.
It was now the very evening before Sir Topham and Lady Hatt would be on their way together. Their suitcases were packed and waiting by the front door, and the arrangements had been made for the Thin Controller to manage the railway for the time being. Both Hatts were very excited.
"I'm really looking forward to this getaway, Bertram," said Lady Hatt. "It's been such a long time since either of us really had time like this together."
"Right you are, Jane," said the Fat Controller. "And just as the Railway had its best report just last year, this may turn out to be one of our best holidays we've had."
"I'm sure it will be," said Lady Hatt. "Now, you and I must have a good night's sleep, and then tomorrow morning, we'll-"
Just then, the phone rang. The Fat Controller suddenly felt an uncomfortable tweak in his heart. Had something happened requiring his attention at this given moment, right before he was due to take his much-needed holiday? When he answered the phone, he listened for a moment or two, and gradually formed a most unimpressed look on his face, then slowly nodded. Lady Hatt watched with a sense of disappointment as he made his answer.
"Oh, dear, just now? Well…okay. I'll be there soon. Goodbye," the Fat Controller answered before he hung up.
"What is it, Bertram?" Lady Hatt asked, clearly not enthused.
"I'm sorry, my dear. That was Mr. Percival…and from what he just told me, Daisy has run into some trouble, and I must go at once."
Lady Hatt gave a very direct and even steely look. "Seriously?"
"I'm afraid so, Jane," said the Fat Controller. "But rest assured, nothing is changing for you and I. I'll be back as soon as I can, and you and I are still on our way tomorrow."
Then off he dashed out of Topham Hall and into his car, then hurried off for the Dieselworks. As the Fat Controller sped along and the sun began to set, he couldn't help but exhibit a fair deal of frustration and fluster.
"For goodness sakes and the love of Sodor! Why does Sudrian Karma always play the hard way?! AND just before a much-needed holiday for me?!"
The Fat Controller sped along the road until he eventually arrived at the Dieselworks. There, the Thin Controller was waiting for him, and it wasn't long before he filled in the Fat Controller on everything. It turned out that the Thin Controller had received a call that Daisy's engine had failed altogether, and she was being brought to the Dieselworks by Duck, which meant another engine would have to be arranged to manage Ryan's goods trains for the time being. As he waited for both engines to arrive, the Fat Controller wasn't the most pleased with the circumstances and given time this had to happen.
"Ohh, great bothering biscuits!" he exclaimed. "As if I didn't have enough to worry about right before a holiday with my wife! That something like this would happen to one of my engines the very night before she and I are supposed to set off! Such a bother, indeed!"
"You needn't worry about any of this for now, Sir Topham," said the Thin Controller. "I'll make sure the Railway runs smoothly for as long as your holiday lasts. You and your wife will be able to enjoy every day of it in peace."
"Thank you, Mr. Percival," said the Fat Controller. "I must say, you did a first-rate job filling in for me while I scaled the globe looking for Thomas on his first big world adventure."
"And so I can do it again for your little holiday," said the Thin Controller. "You and Lady Hatt have most certainly earned it."
Presently, both controllers heard the sound of an engine and saw a light starting to shine up ahead. They looked closely, expecting Duck and Daisy, but then they saw it was Diesel returning to his sheds. Both controllers watched him settle in the sheds, then they both sighed and continued to wait. After a few more minutes, they heard a whistle, and sure enough, Duck arrived, pushing Daisy along. She looked miserable and disappointed, but managed to smile a little as she would soon be getting the help she needed. As they drew closer, Diesel looked up and suddenly frowned with a narrow look in his eyes to see Duck. The Great Western Engine in turn wasn't particularly thrilled to see the fellow Diesel in turn. But even then, Diesel did seem concerned for Daisy's wellbeing as he glanced to her more intently.
"Hello, Daisy…we…we heard your engine's completely given out," he said with genuine consideration.
"Oui, Diesel. It has," Daisy sighed.
"Do…do you think they'll be able to fix you properly?" Diesel asked.
"I can only hope, Diesel," said Daisy. "I cannot recall any time my engine failed completely."
Diesel nodded slowly and looked back to Duck, who couldn't help but shake his head and glower slightly in turn. It was clear to all the diesels and even both controllers that the mood between Diesel and Duck was still about as frosty as it always had been. But that was all beside the point. Both controllers knew there were far more important things to discuss right now.
"Well, this is a bit of a jam for Arlesburgh and Harwick," said the Thin Controller. "With Daisy now bound here until her repairs are complete, who can fill in for her and help Ryan?"
"Indeed," said the Fat Controller. "With everyone so very busy, another diesel will have to manage the goods with Ryan."
It was then that Daisy suddenly looked up at Diesel, remembering their talk together on Remembrance Day that past November…and what he had said about Duck at the time. This gave her a small idea.
"Say, sirs?" she spoke up. "Might I suggest that Diesel fill in for me?"
Sir Topham Hatt, Mr. Percival and especially Duck were quite surprised to hear this. Even Diesel was surprised by such a notion.
"Really, Daisy?" he asked. "You really think I ought to?"
"I think so," said Daisy. "After all, someone needs to keep the goods rolling nicely…and I do think it would do you well…and maybe a few others too."
"I…Well…very well, Daisy," Diesel said slowly. "If that's what you suggest. Sirs?"
Both controllers were indeed surprised, but still weighed the option between each other. As for Duck, he could not believe what he was hearing, and he suddenly frowned most indignantly, highly conflicted by this proposition as the Harwick Line was an extension of his own branch line, effectively bringing Diesel much closer to his stretch of the railway. What could Daisy have been thinking to suggest this? In just a moment or two more, the Fat Controller spoke again.
"Ohh, there's no time to debate on this. My wife and I have made all the arrangements, and we must leave early in the morning for our departure. I really can't waste any more time with little jams like this. I suppose it's the best we can do."
Even the Thin Controller was wary of Daisy's idea, as well as Duck and Diesel's icy ties for all these years, but given the circumstances of the busy phase of the railway, and the Fat Controller's holiday, he ultimately agreed.
"Time is of the essence for the railway and your holiday, sir," said the Thin Controller. "It's settled, then. Ryan will look after Daisy's passengers, and Diesel will manage Ryan's goods traffic until Daisy is repaired…to which I'll see what becomes of that, if anything. Whatever happens, I'll see to it that it runs smoothly enough, Sir Topham."
The Fat Controller sighed and nodded. While his mind was indeed occupied as to what this arrangement could imply, he knew he could rely on the Thin Controller.
"Agreed. Thank you, Mr. Percival," he said. "Now, I really must call it a night, and so it shall remain until after my holiday."
With that, both controllers left the Dieselworks. Duck watched them go and felt his boiler churning with unease. There had been no time to debate this arrangement or weigh any further options on account of the Fat Controller's holiday, but the decision had been made, and he didn't like the sound of it at all. As the Great Western Engine left the scene, he gave one more unenthused look at Diesel, who looked back mutually until Duck was out of sight.
Meanwhile, as night settled over the island, the Fat Controller hurried his way back to Topham Hall, finally feeling that he could rest his mind from everything until after his holiday. When he went upstairs to the bedroom, Lady Hatt was already in bed in her nightgown. Soon, the Fat Controller was in his own nightwear and he told her about the new arrangements for Ryan, Duck and Diesel.
"Duck and Diesel working on the same line?" Lady Hatt noted. "Hmm…I can only wonder what that could entail while we're away."
"I've been thinking just the same, Jane. But whatever may happen or not happen, Mr. Percival shall see to it," said the Fat Controller. "As of this moment, you and I have nothing else to do, but forget our worries. It's just you and me, my dear, for the next two weeks."
"So, that's it, then?" Lady Hatt said with a teasing smile. "No more railway business for you to wade in until after our holiday?"
"Not at all, my dear," said the Fat Controller. "We shall be on our way and right on time tomorrow."
And with that, Sir Topham and Lady Hatt huddled into bed and were soon sound asleep together, fully ready to be on their way…
Early the next morning, around 6:00 a.m., the Fat Controller's alarm clock rang, to which he woke up and stopped the ringing. Lady Hatt was awake too and smiling dearly as she and her husband knew the day had come. After washing up, they dressed in their very best, and after a hearty breakfast, they set off from Topham Hall to be on their way.
The Hatts soon arrived at Knapford Station and stopped the car right beside the line at Platform One. As part of the final arrangements, there was an express coach and a flatbed coupled together at Platform One, and Stanley had brought in Judy and Jerome to make the final preparations. The Hatts watched as Judy and Jerome carefully lifted the car onto the flatbed, to which the workmen fastened it down with chains.
"Very good, Stanley," said the Fat Controller. "Now, please take me and my wife to Tidmouth Sheds, so I may tell them."
Stanley nodded at once as the Hatts got in his cab, then they set off.
At Tidmouth Sheds, the engines were now waking up and leaving their berths to make ready for another day, all except Thomas, who stayed in his berth with a sigh. Then he saw just who was coming down the line.
"Hey. What's Stanley doing here?" he asked.
"I don't know, Thomas. Let's just see," said Emily.
"Say…he's brought Sir Topham Hatt along," said Nia. "And Lady Hatt too. I wonder what this could be about."
The engines all watched as the Fat Controller and Lady Hatt came down from Stanley's cab, then they told the engines all about the arrangements that had been made for the next two weeks. The engines all listened and commended the Fat Controller and Lady Hatt for their plans together.
"Two weeks holiday? Wow! Well, I wish you both a truly merry holiday, Sir Topham and Lady Hatt," Emily smiled.
"Thank you, Emily. It's bound to be merry indeed," said Lady Hatt.
"So you're going all the way to Portpatrick Harbour, sir?" said Thomas.
"Yes, Thomas. We are," said the Fat Controller. "However, everything is still due to continue here exactly as it is…including you staying in your shed for three more days until Mr. Percival puts you back on duty with the rest of the engines."
"Yes, sir. I know, sir," said Thomas.
"Now, Gordon, Lady Hatt and I are counting on you today," said the Fat Controller. "You are to us both to the Mainland, up to Carlisle Station. There is an express coach and motorail with my car loaded onboard, waiting for you at Knapford Station."
"Motorail? Whatever is that?" Percy asked.
"A motorail, Percy, is a train that allows passengers to take their cars on their train trips," said the Fat Controller. "It also allows automobile companies to move their cars on trains with special flatbeds and coaches. At each motorail terminal at certain stations, cars are unloaded for further transport by lorry or for the passengers to come pick them up."
"Oh. I see," said Percy. "Sounds really useful."
"That it is, Percy. Now, as I was saying, Gordon," the Fat Controller continued. "You are to bring us to Carslie, then from there, Lady Hatt and I shall venture onward to our holiday destination."
"Of course, sir. A good long run to stretch my wheels," Gordon beamed proudly. "Just step onboard, and we'll be off right away."
With no delay, the Hatts got into Gordon's cab, then off he set for Knapford Station while the other engines made ready for their own duties. At Platform One, Gordon was soon coupled to his passenger coach and motorail. The Fat Controller and Lady Hatt boarded their coach with their luggage, then the guard blew his whistle and waved the green flag.
"Holidaymakers Coming Through!" Gordon called as he pulled out of the station and set off with all haste for his destination.
As Gordon ran swiftly along the Main Line, the Fat Controller and Lady Hatt sat together and watched the view moment by moment. As they held each other's hand, they felt fully relaxed as they let the world fly by them, forgetting their worries. The Fat Controller couldn't help but wonder if he should have left a sign saying, "Gone Fishing," on Topham Hall's front door. Either way, it was a sunny day and they were on their way. As it came to be late morning, Gordon passed through Vicarstown Station and on toward the bridge. As he rounded the corner, he saw the bridge just lower down, ready for him to cross, and so he and the Hatts rolled right over and onto the Mainland.
Gordon then carried on across the line for a fair while longer, running alongside wide fields and rolling green hills, until around noon his driver looked ahead and saw the station sign. There was Carlisle Station, and right along the platform was a motorail terminal, which was just what the Hatts needed as part of their holiday. Also at the platform was one of the Mainland Diesels who had shunted the trucks in preparation for the Shunting Challenge at the Great Railway Show, and right nearby the platform, a lorry was waiting to transport the Hatts' car to its destination. Gordon neared the platform and stopped just as the clock ticked to his precise schedule.
"Oh, yes," he grinned as the Fat Controller and Lady Hatt stepped out of the coach with their suitcases.
"Thank you very much, Gordon. You've been quick and really useful," said the Fat Controller. "From here, our car will be transported by lorry to our destination, and Lady Hatt and I will be catching a boat to Portpatrick Harbour, and so our holiday will begin."
"Well, sir, and ma'am," said Gordon. "All of Sodor wishes you a most giving and well-deserved holiday. May you both enjoy every moment it lasts."
"That we will, Gordon. We certainly will," said Lady Hatt. "Now you'd best make your way back to Sodor and help Rebecca with her afternoon share of the passengers."
"Oh, that I will," said Gordon. "See you in two weeks."
"Likewise, Gordon. Likewise," the Fat Controller smiled.
While Gordon set off on his way back to Sodor, the Hatts watched as their car was carefully unhitched from its chains. Then as the fender lined up with the platform, the Fat Controller got in and carefully inched his car off the flatbed and onto the platform, after which he carefully brought it down and next to the lorry waiting to take the car on its way. The driver hitched the car to the lorry's hook, returned to the cab and gave a nod to the Fat Controller.
"Ready for you to pick up at Portpatrick upon your arrival, sir," he said as he set off down the road.
The Fat Controller had to admit he was most impressed with the ingenuity and efficiency of this service, the like of which was not anywhere on the North Western Railway at the moment.
"My goodness, this is a most useful feature for any railway," he smiled. "I wonder if perhaps I should propose the implementation of motorail service on the North Western. That could help expand the railways' business endeavors and increase passenger convenience as well. Perhaps a terminal at Kildane would accompany potential plans to electrify Peel Godred. What do you think, Jane?"
Lady Hatt could sense where her husband was going and touched his shoulder to gently remind him.
"Bertram. Might I remind you that this holiday is supposed to help take your mind off running the railway while it lasts?"
"Hmm. Indeed, it is, Lady Hatt," said the Fat Controller. "And yes, holidays like this don't come often. Perhaps this idea can wait, at least until next year before putting any thought toward it."
"Well. That's more like it," said Lady Hatt.
It was then that the Carlisle stationmaster came out and met with the Hatts, who told him about their holiday, and he immediately escorted them both to his car along with their luggage. The stationmaster then drove them up the road for about fifteen minutes, after which they came to a nearby harbour where a boat was waiting to sail them to their destination. Sir Topham and Lady Hatt thanked the stationmaster for the lift, got onboard the boat with their luggage, and soon they were riding along the coastal range, enjoying the view of the sea and the cliffsides along the shoreline.
"Magnificent, isn't it, Jane?" said the Fat Controller. "I don't think I've had an experience like this in quite some time."
"Magnificent is just putting it mildly, Bertram," said Ladt Hatt. "It's almost right out of a storybook."
The boat sailed onward along the coast. The Hatts continued to gaze at the scenery around them, from the green rolling hills to the dark blue ocean with white waves splashing here, there and everywhere along the water, and so it carried on onwards and forwards.
Eventually, the Hatts looked up and saw they had arrived.
"Here we are, Jane," said the Fat Controller. "This is it. Portpatrick Harbour."
Lady Hatt looked and recognized it at once as her husband did. Situated on the south-westerly coast of Wigtownshire, Portpatrick was cut into a cleft in steep cliffs. The harbour was founded on fishing, operating from the sandy, crescent-shaped harbour that remains the focal point of the village to the present day. Built adjacent to the ruins of nearby Dunskey Castle, Portpatrick's position on the hammer-head peninsula known as the Rhins of Galloway afforded visitors views of the Northern Irish coast for over twenty miles to the west, with cliff-top walks and beaches both north and south. The Gulf Stream, flowing in from the north, gave the coastline a pleasant climate, in which subtropical temperatures, plant life could flourish. To the north of the village was the starting point of the Southern Upland Way, a long-distance walking route to Cockburnspath on the North Sea coast of Berwickshire.
The Hatts watched as they came nearer and nearer to the harbour. They held onto their luggage, then just as they neared the docking channel, Lady Hatt looked upward toward the top of the cliffside and suddenly gasped.
"Bertram, look! There it is!" she exclaimed pointing upwards.
The Fat Controller looked up and smiled to see a large white building that looked a little like a palace. This was Portpatrick Hotel, situated on the cliffs above the point where the path began, and what a place to spend two weeks of holiday! The hotel offered panoramic, breathtaking unspoilt views in all directions and overlooked the entire harbour. Just a short stroll from the picturesque village lay the Portpatrick Dunskey Golf Club, which offered two 9-hole courses that offered a mixture of rolling moorland and seaside heath, at around 150 feet above sea level and commanding magnificent views across the Irish Sea to Northern Ireland, the Isle of Man, Mull of Kintyre and even the Island of Sodor if one looked closely enough.
"Ohh, by my stars, this is going to be lovely," said Lady Hatt. "I just know it. Don't you agree, Bertram?"
"Of course, my dear," the Fat Controller smiled and kissed her cheek. "I'd say you've chosen the perfect place for both of us."
At last, the boat stopped along the quay. Then a stepping ramp came down and lined up at the quay, then the Fat Controller and Lady Hatt stepped off the boat with their luggage and set off at once for the hotel. When they arrived, they walked hand in hand to the main door, then stepped inside just in time to see the desk clerk look up and stand to attention. The Fat Controller spoke up at once.
"Sir Topham Hatt of the North Western Railway, and my wife Lady Jane Hatt, checking in for two weeks holiday."
"Yes, we've been expecting you today," the clerk replied as he reached for the room keys. "First-Class Couple's Suite, third floor, Room 184? Yes, sir. Right away."
The desk clerk then handed the Fat Controller his room key, then he and Lady Hatt headed for the elevator and were soon on the third floor. They strode down the hallway and came to Room 184. The key turned in the lock, the door opened, and the Fat Controller and Lady Hatt looked inside with awe and were most impressed. First Class indeed, this room was, with ocean-blue painted walls, a large queen-sized bed for two with a nightstand and lamp on both sides, a well-sized dresser with a television set, a large bathroom and tub built into the side of the room, two lounge chairs side by side, and just through the curtains at the end of the room, French doors leading to a balcony overlooking the whole scope of the land and sea this hotel had to offer.
"Bertram, my dear…welcome to two week's paradise," said Lady Hatt.
"Well, my dear Jane," said the Fat Controller. "First things first. Let's get all settled in."
And so they did. The Hatts unpacked their suitcases, arranged their clothes in the dresser and wardrobe, placed their belongings where they pleased, and opened the curtains to let in the sunshine. Within the hour, the Hatts had made themselves at home in their room, all set for the next two weeks.
"There we are, Jane," said the Fat Controller. "Now, let's see if the television has anything to offer us about the hotel's services and what have you."
He then turned on the television, and right on perfect cue, a commercial for the hotel had just started. The Fat Controller and Lady Hatt sat down at once and watched as an upbeat, Scottish-sounding voice spoke.
"Welcome to the glamorous paradise of Portpatrick Hotel! We're so pleased to welcome you to our beautiful resort on the cliffside right by the Irish Sea! Come enjoy a most view-capturing getaway to which we've added some of the most attractive resort facilities, some of which include a breakfast café near the main lobby, an indoor and outdoor pool overlooking panoramic views all around the coastal hills, a little town just down the hill for you to explore in, and of particular appeal is the local Dunskey Golf Club featuring two 9-hole courses that have attracted guests for miles and miles around, including Captain David Rider himself. Even during his delivering days with the Sea Emperor, he would visit now and then for a game of golf, as seen here in some of our archived footage several years back."
Then to the Hatts' surprise and interest, David suddenly appeared on the screen wearing a black T-shirt and holding a golf club, seeming a fair deal younger with the Sea Emperor on the water far in the background.
"Hello. I'm David Rider, Captain of the HMS Sea Emperor, and when I'm not saving the bacon of all my ship's deliveries at sea, on the odd occasion, I like to tinker on the lovely Dunskey Golf Club. Golf is the trickiest sport in the whole of the United Kingdom. Just hit the ball with this club into these holes. Sounds easy, doesn't it? Think again! That is, it would be easy to hit the ball into the holes if it weren't for all the rolling corners, ramps, sand traps and other gizmos installed throughout the course. There are nine holes on both courses, each unique in a fiendishly clever way, if I do say so myself. Of course with each hole, it all depends on the swing of your club, the type of club that's in your hands, and the rate of power in your hit to send the ball flying. To that effect, be careful about hitting the ball too hard. Firstly, they are GOLF balls, which have a nasty knock to the head at high speeds! Also, if you hit the ball really hard, it may not go in exactly the direction you want, and if you try to sink a ball at the hole too strongly, the ball might sail right over it. The final score is the total of all your hole scores added up. The player with the lowest number wins, and so there you have it. The Dunskey Golf Club is just waiting for players like you. Good luck."
Then the commercial resumed for the rest of the advertisement.
"And there you have it. The Dunskey Golf Club really is a popular attraction right by our resort. All of this and more await you at the Portpatrick Hotel! Come relax and let us refresh your mind and spirit."
Then the commercial ended. The Fat Controller and Lady Hatt were both impressed and almost feeling eager to partake in a golf game right now, yet there were so many other things to think about as well.
"Goodness me," said Lady Hatt. "So much to do, so much to see, and so much for the two of us to do together. But what to do first?"
The Fat Controller pondered for a few moments, agreeing that they had to start somewhere. Then it suddenly came to him as he faintly remembered the night when Gordon's axles ran hot back in January and Rebecca spent the night with him cuddling by the fire. That was the night he took a look at the illustration of an LNWR Large Bloomer class tender engine, remembering how all the engines of that class were now completely gone, back in the days before the idea of preservation ever came to be. He had loved the look and history of that class of engine ever since he was a child, and he could only wonder how extraordinary it would have been to see one with his own two eyes.
Then the Fat Controller suddenly felt something else perk in his mind. Not far from the Portpatrick Hotel was a railway goods yard that connected to the Wigtownshire Joint Railway. The line was single track throughout, serving a region of very low population density, but it achieved significance by carrying heavy traffic, both passengers and goods, to and from northern Irish destinations through Portpatrick and Stranraer. Nowadays, however, the railway saw very little traffic except scrap trains. The Fat Controller knew all of this to be true, but with the prospect of LNWR Large Bloomer engines on his mind again, the low traffic of this particular railway didn't stop him from wanting to look around the nearby goods yards.
"Hmm…You know what I think, Jane?" he said at last. "With this being our first day being here, now that we're all settled in, I can't help but like the idea of seeing the old Portpatrick and Wigtownshire Joint Railway. Maybe do some sightseeing and have a little look around?"
Lady Hatt suddenly felt a little wary as the subject of railways still seemed to be on her husband's mind even now.
"Bertram…this is our holiday after all," she said. "The whole purpose was so you could relieve yourself of such concerns for the next two weeks."
"And I stand by that very point, Jane," said the Fat Controller. "But just for today and maybe tomorrow perhaps? It would give us something to do first thing. Then you and I can most certainly move onto the rest of our holiday's offers."
Lady Hatt thought for a moment, then eventually nodded. "Well, I suppose a little gander would be alright. Maybe we'll meet some new faces there too."
"Yes. Maybe we will," said the Fat Controller.
Before long, the Hatts left their room, exited the hotel and walked for about twenty minutes until they arrived at the Wigtownshire Joint Railway goods yard. As expected, the yards were not very busy, and the only traffic to be seen were a few trucks loaded with various bits and pieces of scrap metal. At first, Lady Hatt wasn't much enthused.
"Hmm. Doesn't seem very lively to me," she said.
"Maybe not from we're standing," said the Fat Controller. "But keep an open eye, Jane. There must be some rollingstock who might be able to show us more besides."
The Fat Controller and Lady Hatt continued to walk slowly through the yards, looking here and there for rollingstock that could be of service, while the Fat Controller couldn't help but wonder a little deeper as to what he had been thinking about in regard to that particular class of engine he had such a fondness for. While he was just about certain there was no chance there'd be any Bloomer engines to be found, the thought still kept him intrigued enough to stick around and see what these yards would have to show.
After wandering the yards for a few minutes, something caught the Fat Controller's eye, to which he touched Lady Hatt's shoulder and pointed. Up ahead, in one of the sidings, there stood a small, and a little shabby, Fairmont MT-19 A-1 Speeder, painted in coral pink with two black stripes on her front and a yellow cab door, also appearing to have been modified with buffers and coupling hooks on her front. The Fat Controller wondered if perhaps she could be of service, so he and Lady Hatt stepped closer toward her. After a few moments, the Fat Controller spoke.
"Hello," he greeted.
The speeder looked up and suddenly seemed alert.
"Oh! Hello there. Wh…Who are you, sir?" she asked with quite the pep in her voice.
"I'm Sir Topham Hatt, the manager of the North Western Railway on the Island of Sodor, and this is my wife, Lady Hatt."
"Hello. And who might you be?" Lady Hatt asked.
"Well, sir, and ma'am. My name is Sandy," said the speeder. "I've been working in and amongst these yards for years and years. This place used to be hopping with quite the traffic, both goods and passengers, but now, it's much quieter…and frankly, a little boring to be doing so little now."
"Yes, we can see that, Sandy," said the Fat Controller. "As for today and this given moment, my wife and I have come to Wigtownshire for two weeks holiday from my work on the North Western Railway, and I entertained the idea of looking through these yards. So far, we haven't seen very much to take note of until we saw you."
"I see. Checking out the yards, are you?" said Sandy. "Well, no need to tire your feet out just walking. If you'd like, I'd be glad to shuttle you around the yards. After all, I don't get to do much else these days."
"Why thank you, Sandy," said the Fat Controller. "Most appreciated."
So they both climbed into Sandy, and she set off along the line with a quick but smooth pace. The Fat Controller and Lady Hatt both looked around and enjoyed the ride for a few minutes, while Sandy smiled gleefully, pleased to have a good run with someone like the Fat Controller of all people, but little did any of them know just what, or rather who awaited them someplace, somewhere in these very yards...
After a few minutes wandering through the yards, Sandy and the Hatts came alongside a very old-looking shed with very worn wood work and a slightly dilapidated roof overhead. The Fat Controller glanced for a moment, then suddenly looked back and ushered Sandy to slow down.
"Say, Sandy…what's in that shed?" he asked. "It seems so very old and frail. It looks like it hasn't been used for a matter of decades…almost from a different age of railways."
"Oh, that ancient shed?" said Sandy. "I don't believe anyone has gone near here lately, if ever. I don't know what could be inside there. Then again, it's so very, very old, it must be empty. I wouldn't say there's much use looking in there."
Sandy was just about to set off again, but as the Fat Controller held his gaze on the very old shed, curiosity got the better of him and he suddenly applied the brakes, bringing Sandy to a stop.
"Wait, Sandy. I wouldn't be so sure about that," he said as he stepped down. "I…I think I'd like to take a look inside…I just have a feeling that…"
"What, sir? What do you feel?" asked Sandy.
"I…well…perhaps we'll see," said the Fat Controller. "Lady Hatt?"
She nodded and came out of Sandy too. As she walked beside her husband, she began to wonder just what this could be all about.
They walked closer and closer to the worn down old shed. With each step they took, the Fat Controller felt his heart beating harder and stronger until they were both right at the old and frail doors. While the shed could quite likely be empty with nothing to be found, perhaps there was something else to all this. The Fat Controller didn't know what, but it had to be there. The chance was there, however big or small it may have been. He then reached his hand out to the shed door, then very slowly pressed against it. After a moment, the door jolted free of its hinge and slowly opened.
The Fat Controller and Lady Hatt watched as the door opened up, then they started to walk in. But in the very same moment, when they looked again, they both suddenly stopped dead in their tracks. They seemed to freeze to an absolute standstill, almost a suspension of any animation. Not a muscle moved in their faces, their eyes slowly opening wide open and their mouths opened in a very slight but steady gape. There, with his eyes closed, dusty, covered in cobwebs and completely isolated from everything and everyone, right before the Hatts' eyes…they saw it. An LNWR Large Bloomer Class Tender Engine!
Sir Topham and Lady Hatt stared in awe, astonishment, amazement and shock all at the same time, both feeling their hearts almost up in their throats and their legs were quaking almost uncontrollably. Sandy could see inside the sheds too and could not believe what her eyes were seeing as she too gaped wide open. With the Bloomer's distinctive 2-2-2 wheel class, open-backed cab and rather large driving wheels like Emily's, this was indeed the very class of engine, long believed to have been scrapped by 1888, and yet here it was right before the beholding eyes of all those right here in this very moment. The engine's face was distinctly male with well-defined cheek bones and sporting sideburns on the sides of his face.
Then much to the Fat Controller and Lady Hatt's most thorough attention, the Bloomer engines' eyes slowly began to open and he wearily looked up for a moment, then suddenly gasped to see the two people standing there before him looking absolutely astonished beyond reason. Silence then ensued between the engine and the two people staring back at him for several moments. Then…
"Excuse me," said the Bloomer engine. "But…are you an eavesdropper? My driver told me eavesdroppers walk right on in without invitation."
The engine hadn't had any form of interaction with anyone for many, many decades, but he appeared to be a jovial sort, and when he spoke, he sounded almost aristocratic. The Fat Controller took note of all this and slowly responded.
"Uh…uh…well, pardon us, my friend…" he said heavily, finding his voice at last. "But…am I in a most exceedingly vivid dream…or are you…an LNWR Bloomer class tender engine?"
"But of course, sir. That's my class, no doubt there," said the Bloomer engine. "And who might you be, my good sir?"
"Oh! Well, my very fine engine, I'm Sir Topham Hatt, the head of the North Western Railway on the Island of Sodor, and my wife Lady Jane Hatt."
"Well, a most gifted privilege to meet you both, sir, and madam," said the engine. "And what brings you out here…right to my shed after so, so long since I've seen anything or anyone, really?"
"Well, my wife and I came here for two weeks holiday," said the Fat Controller. "And I thought of looking around these yards…but NEVER did I think in any realm of possibility that I would cross paths with your engine class! I've known all about your class through photographs and memories ever since I was a child. But now…why, my dear engine…however could you be here in this shed? It's been long-since believed that ALL Bloomers were scrapped before the twentieth century! All these long years, the entire railway industry assumed they were completely gone!"
"Ah, yes, indeed they were, sir," said the Bloomer engine. "All the rest of my class are forever gone, I'm sad to say. There are absolutely no others of them left in the world. All those long years ago, my brothers, sisters and I all worked hard pulling passenger trains across Scotland and England to the likes of London. But sure enough, alas, newer and stronger engines came along, and so we were all steadily scrapped, starting from 1866. Slowly but surely, all my fellow Bloomer colleagues were withdrawn and erased from any and all form of use. By 1888, all my remaining siblings were completely gone, and I was due to meet the very same fate…"
"But then something happened, didn't it?" said the Fat Controller. "Who or what, may I ask, spared you from such a fate?"
"My beloved driver and fireman," said the engine. "Oh, such dear chaps they were to me way back when. They loved me so much that they decided to hide me in this shed in complete, shrouded secret. A most departing and sad day that was. I never saw them ever again, while all the rest of the railway continued to progress towards newer and faster classes of engines, and so here I sat undetected, secluded, solitary…and safe…whereas everyone believed my class was fully extinct down to the very last one…except me."
"Oh, my goodness…absolutely remarkable beyond many more words," said the Fat Controller. "Here you were, for all these ages…"
"That I was, good sir. That I was," said the engine.
As the man and engine continued to look each other in the eye, the Fat Controller looked again and was suddenly surprised by what he saw underneath the weathering and rust of this most unique engine.
"Say…I'm surprised, my friend," said the Fat Controller.
"By what, may I ask?" said the engine.
"I…I see that your paintwork is black. I would think your class's livery was vermilion red with lack and white lining. Everyone I ever knew and still know today believed that all engines like you were vermilion red."
"Ah, well, old darling," said the engine. "I'm sure that must have been a rumour as I, as well as the rest of my class were originally painted in Brunswick Green, then later Blackberry Black, though some of us built in 1861 were briefly painted a dark plum red livery. Though, I must also admit the rumoured vermilion livery certainly sounds elegant too."
"Well, whatever colour your paintwork is, it is such a privilege and a gift to see that you're still here," said the Fat Controller. "Say…do you, by any chance, have a name, dear engine?"
"I…uh…actually, sorry to say, sir…I was never given a name," said the engine. "Just a number. Although, for convenience sake, don't hesitate to call me Bloomer."
"Well, then. Bloomer, it is. Nice fitting name," said the Fat Controller. "Well, Bloomer, now that we're acquainted, and now that you've been rediscovered here today, I say we have to do something about your current state. I simply can't leave you here any longer. I ought to bring you to my railway on Sodor so as to give you a proper restoration and have you return to being really useful!"
"Oh…I…I'm really not sure, sir," said Bloomer. "I don't think the people would be at all interested in seeing an engine as old as me after all the time I've been hidden."
"Not interested in you?! Why, what nonsense, Bloomer!" the Fat Controller smiled. "The discovery of an engine as vintage and historical as you will make the whole island want to see you at once! Especially since you were thought to be extinct for all these many years! They'll truly marvel at seeing the likes of an engine such as you! I just know it!"
"Well...actually, yes. I think that would be most lovely," Bloomer smiled. "A brand new chance to run on the rails again in a brand new age…it's quite a miracle to put it mildly, I think."
While the Fat Controller and Bloomer beamed and smiled away to this prospect, Lady Hatt couldn't say she was particularly happy that her husband was so focused on his railway even during their holiday. But even she had to agree with her husband that this engine deserved a new and rejuvenated chance to be really useful.
"Well, Bloomer," she said with a notable smile. "Once our holiday is done and you're put to rights again, I know you'll be very, very happy on the Island of Sodor."
"And so he will be, my dear," said the Fat Controller. "First things first, I must send word to Sir Robert Norramby. He'll be most delighted and surprised to hear about this. A new chapter awaits you very soon, Bloomer my friend!"
And with that, the Fat Controller hurried off to find a telephone, while Bloomer looked out into the sunlight and smiled most dearly, all too ready to begin starting his life anew all over again. What had started out as a much-needed holiday for Sir Topham and Lady Hatt had suddenly given them a rare discovery from distant rails. A most impressive and historical class of engine that had once been thought to be extinct, and now here was Bloomer, ready to re-emerge to the rails and usher in a new era of being really useful on the North Western Railway.
Happy St. Patrick's Day, everyone, and to celebrate, Bloomer is finally here! Definitely playing into the vermilion livery being a rumour that Awdry more than likely believed in. For those unaware, Bloomer is a character from the Railway Series that never appeared in any of the books, but Awdry did create a backstory for him and made of model of him to go along with the rest of his model engines. Just like what we've depicted here, Awdry's Bloomer avoided the cutter's torch and was eventually discovered in a shed at Wigtownshire by the Fat Controller, and Bloomer's model is currently on display at the Talyllyn Railway's Narrow Gauge Railway Museum at Tywyn Wharf Station. As for this version of Bloomer, I've decided that his voice and mannerisms will based off of Hercules from TUGS, only with a Scottish accent, so you should probably expect him to refer to other characters as "m'dears", "old darlings", and "sweetheart", and a lot of female engines to be swooned by him.
Aside from Bloomer, the other big surprise is the inclusion of Sandy the Rail Speeder from All Engines Go, only here she's been given a complete redesign; unlike the show, where she appears to be based on a Motorcar, this version of Sandy is based on the Fairmont MT-19 series A-1 speeders, which appeared for just a single brief cameo in "Misty Island Rescue", with buffer and coupling modifications added on. Just like Tess, who will eventually be introduced, I see no reason why I couldn't incorporate a reboot character into my stories, even if I don't care for the show itself. And as for Duck and Diesel's moment at the beginning, well, this story happens at the same time as Diesel's redemption story, so you'll find out what happens when Diesel covers for Daisy when we eventually get to that story, which may or may not take awhile given what's going on at the moment. The next chapter will be quite the experience as Bloomer is introduced to the concept of diesels, and two particular diesels put a sinister plan into action. Until then, tell us what you thought of this chapter, and as always, stay safe.