14 - It pours
Mallard stared at Sir Nigel who was watching him intently. As soon as the large A4 entered one of the private engine bays of the museum, Sir Nigel had just eyed him with a venomous glare not seen before. Mallard found it uncharacteristic of his elder brother.
It was strange, Mallard had always seen 4498 as the most reasonable and intelligent of his siblings. Unlike his other siblings, Sir Nigel acted as a leader, a figurehead that wasn't as judgemental as Quicksilver, not as much as a pushover as Silver Link and not as facetious as Silver King.
He wasn't surprised to find that the black A4 had been designated as leader of the remaining LNER classes. He was surprised, however, to find him acting very dismissive of him, something which he'd never done before.
"Sir Nigel," Olivia called upon the A4. "As you can see we have a situation. This is Mallard."
The A4 stared Mallard down while the man simply narrowed his eyes and stared back at the engine examining him. Although he would never admit it, seeing one of his own class from a human perspective was extremely intimidating.
Their huge streamlined forms were impressive from such a diminutive angle. It was so strange, humbling even.
"So it seems Truro was correct. The man in his dreams was an exact description of Mallard's appearance," Sir Nigel eyed the long-haired man but Mallard just glared at him.
"I have no idea why you think I would have anything to do with a Great Western, Sir Nigel," Mallard growled in a lowly voice. The City of Truro? The Great Western? The one that always picked fights and hurled insults at Flying Scotsman whenever he saw him?
Olivia however turned to the streamlined engine confused.
"Truro was having dreams about Mallard, as a human?" She asked and Sir Nigel turned his attention to him.
"Yes, nightmares about this man stealing his soul and constantly tormenting him," Sir Nigel explained with a glance at Mallard who sneered at him. "His description was correct and in detail. With long hair and a blue foxhunting coat, Truro kept insisting that it was Mallard. That Scotsman destroyed the Black Smoke but not his new soul."
"I have nothing to do with the City of Truro! What are you talking about!" Mallard shouted angrily. "New soul what? Of course, I have a soul! Why are you painting me as some kind of villain?"
"Because you're a manipulator and a murderer!" Sir Nigel accused and Mallard looked hurt while Olivia remained silent and stoic watching the interaction carefully. "You constantly threaten Flying Scotsman, you destroyed the souls of numerous engines, you threatened to kill Lady Gresley here!"
"I did not!" He shouted up at the engine who just narrowed his eyes at him. "I might be an insufferable asshole but I'm not a murderer!"
"Edward Thompson removed your soul," Sir Nigel informed Mallard. "He did it in a misguided effort to try and curb your more undesirable traits. It caused you to become cold-hearted and callous."
"Undesirable traits?" Mallard looked apocalyptic. "Oh me acting out because you all treated me like some trophy was undesirable, was it? Maybe if you actually treated me like a person I wouldn't be 'undesirable'!"
"You always paraded your speed record as your entire personality!" Sir Nigel retorted. "You were nothing but a narcissistic braggart, who had no interest in your siblings!"
"Many times I tried to reach out to you and my siblings to talk to them but you all always used my fame for your own personal gain!" Mallard shouted at Sir Nigel, approaching the engine but one of Olivia's assistants stepped in front and pushed him away from the engine. "Merlin and Gadwall were the only ones who treated me like a brother! Then there was you! Always condescending and talking to me like a child! Maybe if you listened to me for once you'd actually understand me! You always dismissed my concerns and told me to smarten up! Even when I was struggling, you- you uptight arsehole!"
"Mallard that's enough," Olivia barked at him and Mallard turned to her furious.
"Everyone seems to want to paint me as some kind of villain Lady Gresley! I'm not, I swear!" Mallard pleaded with the woman. "I was close friends with Sir Gresley, we went birdwatching together! He would always show me his precious ducks! He told me things I would take to the cutters torch! Please Lady Gresley I would never willingly hurt you!"
"I said, enough, Mallard," Olivia repeated herself, calmly this time. This time Mallard seemed to deflate and fall quiet. Olivia turned to look up at Sir Nigel, an unimpressed look on her face.
"Sir Nigel, I asked you here to help explain to Mallard about what happened to him, not insult or berate him. This is very unlike you and I am not impressed with this attitude! Explain yourself!" Olivia scolded but Sir Nigel's resolve did not falter.
"With all due respect Lady Gresley, Mallard is known to be a manipulative person," Sir Nigel announced. "It was how he was able to trick Yvonne into mutilating Green Arrow. It was how he warped Cain's thoughts into a vile and despicable person. You are a smart young woman but you have not watched Mallard for the many decades that myself and my siblings have. I am calling Mallard's bluff and I do not trust that he has lost his memory as he says he has."
"I'm not lying!" Mallard shouted at his brother. He turned to look at Olivia who was now looking at Mallard unsure. "Lady Gresley please, I really don't remember what happened after Thompson defiled me, please believe me!"
His words seemed to fall on deaf ears however as he noticed a sceptical gaze had suddenly appeared over Olivia's face.
He clenched his fists and turned away from them fighting back tears of anger. He didn't want to cry in front of Sir Nigel and Lady Gresley.
"You don't believe me!" He snarled furiously. "I knew that this was a bad idea! I should have listened to Herbert! I should have stayed away and kept to myself and my peaceful existence!"
The raven who had been perched on his shoulder this entire time squawked loudly and flapped his wings. He cawed loudly, seeming to back up Mallard's claims.
"Mallard-" Olivia began to say but Mallard was no longer listening. He spun on his heel as a golden glow appeared before him and an old railway lamp appeared before him and he grabbed the handle roughly and glared at Olivia, her assistants and Sir Nigel.
"I've had enough of this! Since I'm clearly not wanted here I'm going back to my ducks!" He shouted furiously, his voice cracking with tears.
"Mallard wait!" Olivia shouted but Mallard had disappeared in a shower of gold dust leaving the A4 and the museum director to stand there dumbfounded.
Olivia stood there furiously for a second before turning to Sir Nigel.
"I understand why you went after him so aggressively, but I had hoped that you of all engines would have handled this diplomatically!" She scolded. "Now we have no idea where he went! He could have gone after Scotsman!"
"I-" the A4 Pacific looked like he was ready to argue but realised that Olivia was right and fell silent, looking down at the ground shamefully. "I apologise, Lady Gresley."
Olivia just glared at him before one of her assistants drew her attention.
"Ma'am it's your fiance, he's been calling the front desk nonstop since midnight," he explained quickly and a look of sheepishness overcame her.
"I'll let him know that I'm safe," she nodded to them. "I've kept you here for long enough, you can both go home now."
They looked at each other concerned.
"Ma'am I don't think that's wise, you should go home and rest," one of them, Taylor, stepped forward.
"I agree," The other assistant, Sydney backed her up. "You've been working since 5 am yesterday and it's almost 2 am now. You need to rest! Especially when you're with a child!"
Olivia frowned and waved off their concerns with a dismissive gesture.
"Thank you for your concern but as the director of the museum, I have responsibilities I cannot abandon, goodnight."
With that Olivia turned on her heel and left for her office, leaving her assistants and Sir Nigel to stare after her concerned.
Percy wasn't sure where to find the little mountain engine, Lyell. James had told him that there was a little foreign engine up at the Culdee Fell Railway however he'd been met with confusion from the little mountain engines when he'd met them at the little station where the standard gauge and the rack and pinion railway started.
"No, no little Australian engines here Percy," Culdee had informed him regretfully.
"We've seen her though!" Wilfred piped up. "Cute little thing looks like one of you lot but small! Nothing like us, it's so strange!"
"Very shy too," Culdee agreed. "We hope you find her Percy, she was sent back to Ulfstead Castle once the engineers realised that she wasn't the same gauge as us."
Percy thanked the little mountain engines and went on his way. He made a note to visit the Culdee Fell more. They were so far away and on such a strange track that several of the other Sudrian engines didn't even believe they existed!
Their liveries reminded him of Ryan, a stunning deep purple that looked unique. Percy wondered what he would look like in purple. Like a goose most probably. As curious as he was, he didn't want to change his green and red stripes. They were perfect and had served him well these long years.
He had a mind to ask his brother, Trojan if he'd ever had any other liveries in his past.
"Steady on there old boy!" A voice called to him bringing him out of his thoughts and Percy quickly put his brakes on and grimaced as he looked up and suddenly saw Stephen a few feet away from him.
"Oh! Stephen!" Percy cried out startled. "I'm sorry I was distracted by my thoughts!"
"Careless," a voice hissed a distance away and Percy frowned and looked over, finding a familiar red engine scowling at him.
Percy almost jumped off the rails the second he realised who it was. It was the old red engine with the spotless copper firebox that Henry, the Scottish twins or other engines who often went to the mainland told stories of whenever they passed through Barrow, many, many decades ago. Percy had never ever expected to see the engine of the glass house, not even once.
"Cop- Coppernob?!" Percy shouted and the red engine rolled his eyes at him.
"You Sudrian engines have gotten sloppy and careless since I was last a Barrow!" Coppernob snapped and Stephen tutted and rolled his eyes.
"Ignore the old fusspot, how are you, Percy?" Stephen greeted the tank engine warmly and Percy returned his focus to the engine in front of him while Coppernob grumbled.
"I'm sorry Stephen, I almost crashed into you!" Percy apologised but the old Rocket just laughed it off.
"That's okay Percy, I know you never mean to drift off," the yellow engine assured him. "So, what brings you here to our humble abode?"
"I'm here to see the Australian Engine, Lyell," Percy explained and Stephen beamed.
"Ah she's out the back!" he replied before rolling closer to Percy to whisper. "Sir Robert didn't want to put her around Coppernob and spoil the lady's holiday here."
Coppernob just grumbled and puffed himself up.
"I heard that!" He snapped but was promptly ignored by the two engines.
"This way, this way!" Stephen beckoned as he led Percy into the castle, leaving a very grumpy Coppernob to sit and pout on his plinth in the museum.
"Is Coppernob always like that?" Percy asked as they were out of earshot of the Furness engine.
"Believe it or not, Henry says he's a lot better than he was," Stephen remarked and Percy just stared at him. "But yes, he is indeed always like that."
Percy pulled a face.
"He reminds me of the old clankers at my old dockyards who always thought they knew everything and always snitched to the foreman," Percy huffed. "I bet Coppernob was a snitch."
"Ah yes well, you'd have to ask Edward about that," Stephen chuckled. "Anyway, here we are! This is Lyell!"
Percy gazed over at the private berths and found a little green engine sitting on a flatbed with a glum-looking face.
"Oh, what's wrong little one?" Percy asked and the little engine looked up at him. Almost immediately her glum expression turned into one of embarrassment as she recognised him.
"Oh! You're Percy, aren't you? Hello, it's nice to meet you again!" She squeaked fluster and Percy was surprised.
"You're excited to see me?" He asked her and Lyell seemed to quiver in enthusiasm.
"Yes! You're Percy from the books and the tv show! Sometimes kids would come up and tell us about you" Lyell exclaimed. "I'm sorry I didn't introduce myself properly when we met at the docks. Ms Grey is very friendly and, um, loud."
Percy laughed. The big green express engine was very forward and very talkative. It made it hard to get a word in edgewise with her.
"She is, I don't mind it though, although Gordon had issues with it," Percy smiled and Lyell smiled back.
Gordon would of course take issue with an engine that managed to be louder than him.
"I'm glad you came to see me again, Percy!" Lyell exclaimed excitedly. "I was hoping to meet you and tell you how much I love the books. Our crews read them to us whenever there was a new one out. The others didn't really care for them but I loved them. I'd love to meet everyone!"
Lyell suddenly cast her eyes down sadly and her glum expression returned.
"It's not like I could though, being the wrong gauge," she murmured sadly. "But at the very least I got to meet Thomas and Percy! And the Culdee Fell crew! Oh and Stephen!"
Lyell turned bright red as she remembered the old Rocket sitting there. Stephen just chuckled amused, not at all offended.
"Maybe there's a way we could get you to meet everyone," Percy pondered. "Maybe we could all visit you here?"
"That's not all that personal, Percy," Stephen pointed out. "I'm sure Lyell here would rather see the island like Grey and Gold."
Lyell looked at both of them hopefully.
"Yes please, I'm so used to being on my little mountain, I'd love to see what Sodor looks like!" Lyell exclaimed enthusiastically.
Percy gave Lyell a hopeful grin.
"I'll see what I can do Lyell," he promised and Lyell looked ready to leap off the flatbed in sheer joy.
"Oh thank you, Percy! Thank you so much!"
It was before sunrise when Scotsman's crew returned to prep him for his trip to Edinburgh. He'd only had a few hours of sleep before he was awoken by Vincent rapping on his footboards singing him a happy birthday.
Truro had fallen asleep sometime during the night and from what Scotsman could tell, it was at the very least a peaceful one for once. He felt pleased, happy that Truro was getting some restful sleep for once.
His thoughts drifted to the fight that they had had last night.
It had hurt, knowing the Truro was keeping his problems to himself. Did Truro not trust him? Or perhaps Truro felt that Scotsman's problems were more important? Which was incredibly wrong. Perhaps it was sensitive information regarding the inner workings of the Great Western Railway. Maybe it had been related to the Gold Dust before Scotsman had been made aware of it.
Scotsman sighed and looked at his buffers. The smell of petrichor was in the air and the few hours of sleep had refreshed him a little.
Sleeping on it made him realise that he had probably come off as selfish last night. He would have to clear it up to Truro when he got back from Scotland. Not exactly the way he wanted to start off his 100th birthday but what had happened had happened.
"How's the birthday boy today?" A cheery voice called to him as his crew grumbled around getting him ready. He looked over and found Lady Olivia bundled in her coat and smiling up at him. He lit up at the sight of her.
"Hello Olivia!" he greeted brilliantly and Olivia smiled at him. "I'm doing alright."
"Too early in the morning for you?" She asked, noticing his hesitation and Scotsman bit his lip slightly. He didn't want to divulge his troubles to Olivia, at least not when she was dealing with something with Sir Nigel involved. Whenever the A4 was called upon, it was often regarding issues of great importance.
"You could say that," he muttered and Olivia looked at him concerned.
"Is everything okay?" She asked, her tone worried, with a gentle caress of his frame. "I don't want my birthday boy upset on his 100th build day now."
Scotsman gave a low chuckle.
"Just anxious about things. I have a lot on my mind and only a few hours sleep," he reasoned and Olivia looked unconvinced but thankfully didn't press.
"Alright," she nodded to him. "Not too tired to make the trip to Edinburgh?"
"No ma'am, I've done more taxing trips in my trip on less sleep," he assured her and Olivia gave a low chuckle.
"Of course, who am I to question an old veteran of the rails?" She smiled before gesturing at him openly. "Mind you behave, no going off to find Bittern and antagonising some of the Southern lads now."
"But that's the highlight of my day!" Scotsman guffawed loudly and Olivia didn't look at all impressed. "What I can't go off and see my best friend on my build day?"
"I'd love you too, but the board wants to put on a good show, especially with everything that's happened these past few years," Olivia admitted. "There'll be a huge media presence, so best behaviour please, young man."
Scotsman sighed and looked at his buffers. Best behaviour meant acting posh and snobby and it just wasn't something he really wanted to do today.
"Yes, Lady Gresley," Scotsman agreed reluctantly. "I shall put on the snootiness tenfold."
Olivia nodded to him gratefully.
"I know it sucks, but it has to be done," she lamented sympathetically. "When you get back you can take a trip to Margate and see Bittern."
"Ah yes! See the 1:1 scale Bittern at the toy factory how lovely!" Scotsman teased and Olivia smirked.
"I'll tell him you said that," she smiled before patting him gently and giving him a stern look. "Best behaviour, no annoying the dignitaries."
"Yes ma'am," Scotsman huffed. "You don't have to keep telling me, I'm not a new build."
"I know, I just doubt that I can completely trust you at times," Olivia clarified and Scotsman gave an embarrassed smile.
"You can always use Gold Dust to check on me right?" Scotsman pointed out and Olivia shrugged.
"I know, however, I am not one to use it so flippantly no matter what that Mrs Parson insists I am doing with it," Olivia explained and Scotsman heard a very clear distaste in her voice at the mention of the Great Western woman.
There was something going on there, however, Scotsman thought it rude to ask.
"I'll leave you to it," Olivia suddenly declared and Scotsman felt crestfallen.
"You're not going to see me off?" He asked and Olivia shook her head.
"Afraid not, director duties call," she explained sadly but then she gave him an encouraging smile. "You'll be great Scott, enjoy your day as best you can."
Scotsman gave her a slightly forced smile. There was something else going on, he just knew it. More secrets are being kept from him no doubt. He wasn't one to talk though, not how he had behaved last night with Truro.
He trusted Olivia. She would tell him, he knew that. But he suspected she didn't want to ruin his build day. That was fair, he wouldn't hold that against her, they both seemed to have a lot on their minds.
"I'll try my best," he promised and Olivia beamed at him.
"I know that you will. 100 years is truly something to be proud of."
Flying Scotsman sighed.
"I know. I just, strangely wish that North was here, despite everything," Scotsman admitted. He looked to Olivia's side, where North usually stood, an obedient and watchful servant, finding the space empty. It was unlike North to be absent from Olivia's side these days. It was very odd.
Great Northern was the first engine he had seen upon becoming sentient. It felt right somehow even if North had been nothing but a controlling tyrant around him. North was still his older brother, he'd tried to rescue Truro for him and he'd been collecting Flying Scotsman memorabilia to try and soothe his consciousness.
He looked back at Olivia, finding that her face had suddenly become unreadable and stoic. It reminded him of Sir Gresley when the man suddenly had something serious to say or needed to reprimand his engines.
"He's having health issues right now," Olivia explained, her voice stilted. "I believe he would if he could. He cares deeply about you."
Flying Scotsman frowned. There was something going on here, he knew it. He might not have been the smartest engine out there, but he knew when something was up.
"Sure," he narrowed his eyes and glared at Olivia sceptically.
He noticed how exhausted the woman looked and frowned deeply concerned.
"You look like you haven't slept in a week Olivia," he noted and Olivia sighed, annoyed.
"I'm fine," she muttered but her slumped body language and dishevelled appearance said otherwise.
"No, you look like Sir Gresley did when he was working during-" Flying Scotsman stopped and looked away from Olivia now frightened. "Olivia, you do know how your grandfather died, don't you?"
Olivia just looked away from Scotsman, knowing what he was insinuating.
"I'm worried about you, Lady Olivia," Scotsman insisted. "I don't want to lose you like I lost my designer. Please."
Olivia sighed and gazed up at Scotsman with a defeated look. The A3 held the look of a concerned elder, making her realise that despite her position of power, Scotsman truly was 100. He'd seen so much of the world, been through hell and back.
People and engines liked to joke that he was stupid, a bit of a ditzy celebrity but over the years he had grown clever and wise. He knew what he was talking about.
"I suppose I have been pushing myself too hard lately," she finally admitted. She rubbed a hand over her swollen stomach, heavy with child. "Someone has been complaining a lot in the past week."
"Then maybe you should take that as a sign that you should rest, Ms Olivia?" Scotsman suggested and Olivia looked up at Scotsman with a tired smile. He was a clever old thing, that engine.
"Alright, Scotty. I can see why you were my grandfather's favourite," she murmured warmly before laying a hand on him gently, her thumb running circles over the warm metal. "Here's to 100 years more, Flying Scotsman."
Flying Scotsman gave her a grateful smile.
"Thank you, ma'am," he exclaimed gratefully. "Take it easy, please. And ask North to come and see me if you can, I'd actually really like to see him today, despite, well not having the best relationship."
Olivia's smile dropped slightly and her eyes seemed to darken Scotsman noticed but said nothing. North had been having a lot of health issues since Mallard had… well…
It didn't matter.
If North wasn't well enough to see him then he wouldn't hold it against him. Granted things had been very awkward between them lately, North hadn't even wanted to talk to him after the Mallard incident.
But enough of that, Scotsman thought to himself, more important things took precedence.
"I will," Olivia spoke to him in a quiet voice before smiling brightly up at him. "100 years is a great achievement, be proud!"
"Yes ma'am, I will!"
Despite having animosity with him in the past, Green Arrow could think of no one better than James to try and get some help for Edward. He knew that of all the engines, Edward was closest with the 'splendid' red engine.
It was good fortune then that he'd been assigned to help out on the mainline then he mused as Gordon rushed by with the express without so much as a whistle in greeting. Arrow paid him no heed. He never expected anything more from an A1, such a snobbish and crude class of engines. He never understood the appeal of the Flying Scotsman, why he was so famous.
He very much doubted that people would celebrate his 100th birthday when the time came.
To his displeasure, he found that James had left earlier that day and wouldn't be back until later that evening.
He sighed and frowned frustrated.
Edward had been nothing but kind to him. He'd been so welcoming and so friendly to him, even when he'd been villainised for attempting to get Flying Scotsman scrapped. Green Arrow wanted nothing more than to help the kind old engine.
Edward reminded him of a more softly spoken City of Truro, however, Edward didn't have the sternness or the leadership qualities that Truro had. He was an old gentle soul who was more than happy for others to take the lead.
Arrow wondered if it was a 4-4-0 trait. Then again, not all Pacifics seemed to be pompous gits. The Australian Pacific had been a delightful so perhaps it was the culture of the UK that had bred snootiness. It made Arrow curious.
"Hello, Mr Green Arrow!" a bright and cheery voice exclaimed loudly next to his voice box and Arrow gave a yelp and almost jumped off of his frames he was so startled.
"Don't do that!" He shouted angrily, flustered.
"I'm sorry!" A voice squeaked and Arrow looked over to see a sheepish-looking Bear, sitting on the tracks next to him.
He was surprised that he hadn't heard Bear's signature growl when the engine had come up to him.
"I've been refitted and all my parts cleaned and recalibrated," Bear explained, noticing the confusion on Arrow's face. "No bear growls, for a while at least."
"Ah well," Arrow was at a loss for words. "Er, good for you I guess."
"I'll be back growling in no time, you just watch!" Bear laughed at his own joke to which Arrow just smiled awkwardly.
Bear was trembling with his usual excitement whenever he met a famous steam engine. It was annoying and Arrow had complained about it many a time to Duck but as much as they found it annoying, Bear was ultimately harmless.
"Well er, have a good day I guess!" Arrow awkwardly tried to excuse himself as he saw the diesel desperately think of a topic to try and start a conversation with him.
"I'm sorry if I annoy you, Mr Green Arrow!" Bear suddenly blurted out and Arrow stopped his rolling start and gave the Hymek a funny look.
"What?"
"I said I'm sorry for being annoying!" Bear clarified, looking rueful. "I know you steam engines always hate it when I'm around. I'm sorry for being a fanatic, but I can't help it sometimes you know? I just get excited when I meet a famous engine like Thomas or you, you know? I can't contain myself!"
"Right," Green Arrow muttered unimpressed. He didn't want to deal with this right now but he also didn't want to be a complete asshole. "Can you, try, not to be so fanatical then? You've been on Sodor almost a year."
Arrow wanted to smack himself upside the smokebox. He hadn't intended to sound so condescending or blunt towards the diesel.
"I do try! Henry's been really patient with me but it's hard," Bear muttered quietly. "I… don't know what to do. Sir Topham Hatt's yelled at me a few times for holding up several engines. Like I'm doing now I guess, whoops, I'm sorry."
The Diesel blushed as he realised what he was doing and his cheeks went bright red.
Green Arrow wanted to snap at the diesel for being annoying but it didn't seem fair to do when he was having a moment of self-reflection.
"Maybe talk to Edward about it," he suggested and Bear looked at the V2 curiously.
"I don't want to annoy him, he always seems busy and I'm a diesel!" Bear objected. "Plus I think I get on his nerves."
"Boco is a diesel and he's Edward's best friend. Or why not talk to Boco instead?" Arrow pointed out and Bear seemed to light up.
"Yes, yes! I shall!" Bear exclaimed gleefully, his enthusiasm peaking. "Thank you, Mr Green Arrow, sir!"
Arrow just sighed inwardly and forced a grin.
"You're welcome," he grinned painfully and went on his way to find his goods train.
Hopefully, the Hymek would leave him alone for now, but Green Arrow had a sneaking suspicion that he wouldn't.
Evening Star was pleased to find herself put to work immediately by the director of Edward's Branchline. While Murdoch pulled huge trains of china clay to the mainland, Evening Star found herself pulling a mixed train full of goods, of timber and stone from the docks to deliver around the island.
Easy stuff for a strong engine like her. She suspected that the director of the branch line was easing her into her work, which irritated her but at the very least she was working and working mattered to her.
Getting herself absolutely filthy and revelling in having her joints and frames aching by the end of the day was all she needed to be a happy engine. She sat watching Arthur and Salty zip around the dockyards, the diesel singing to himself happily while Arthur annoyed the crane as he loaded her train.
Evening Star closed her eyes and drew in the sounds around her. She found it to be 'peaceful' with the howling sea wind, the diesels and steam engines chuffing around while the dock workers shouted and called to each other. It was where she belonged, where she was meant to be.
Her moment of peace was interrupted however when she heard an engine coming up behind her very quickly.
"Murdoch! Murdoch!" A voice squeaked as the engine pulled up alongside her. The engine's voice suddenly faltered as it realised that she wasn't Murdoch. "Oh, you aren't Murdoch."
She sounded disappointed.
It was a Great Western, Evening Star noted. Although Great Westerns all looked the same to her, some were just bigger or had a different number of wheels in her opinion.
"I'm not Murdoch, I'm his sister, Evening Star," Evening Star huffed annoyed at this new engine interrupting her meditative state.
"Tydfil! This is Murdoch's Sister, Evening Star!" Arthur introduced her to this new engine.
"Yes, I know that, she literally just told me, Arthur, let her speak for herself!" The new engine, Tydfil barked at the LMS tank engine and Evening Star was taken aback.
"You- you can understand me?" Evening Star asked in complete shock.
"Yes of course, why wouldn't I be able to?' Tydfil scoffed and the 9F and the Ivatt Engine stared at her in shock. "What?"
"Well, no one's been able to understand me when I first meet them, it usually takes people a while to do so."
"Well people are stupid and don't listen!" Tydfil scoffed annoyed. "I'm looking for Murdoch, where is he?"
"He's taking a train to the mainland, he won't be back until tomorrow," Evening Star explained and Tydfil cast her eyes down. She looked scared for some reason.
"Oh," was all the Great Western said.
"What did you want to talk to Murdoch about? Can we help?" Arthur asked Tydfil kindly.
"Oh well I uh, I was hoping that he had a spare space in his sheds," Tydfil explained awkwardly. "I uh, I want to find somewhere else to sleep for the night, where I currently am is… not great."
"Oh of course! You can come bunk with us!" Arthur cheerily invited the young engine who smiled gratefully. "I hope you don't mind Arrow being a bit of a chatterbox though."
The smile faded.
"Ah," Tydfil hesitantly started, seeming to reconsider the offer but after she seemed to reflect on it she once again smiled at Arthur and Evening Star. "That's okay, I don't mind, thank you!"
Without another word the Saint class was away without so much as a goodbye, departing quickly to do her work.
"How odd," Arthur commented but said nothing more.
Evening Star just watched the Great Western go, her curiosity piqued and a small smile on her face.
She didn't know why, but she had a funny feeling that this 'Tydfil' would be an interesting and eventful friend to have.
Surely the woman could have been a bit more descriptive than, 'it glows gold' when describing the thing she wanted from the director.
Aaron frowned as he peered into Lady Gresley's office, the room was dark and no lights were on. Looking around to check no one was around he quickly slipped into her office and shut the door behind him.
The room was dark, only a security light in the corner. Perfect conditions to find a glowing golden thing. He squinted, cursing Ms Parsons and her vague wording. He could see nothing.
Frustrated he turned to leave her office but stopped as something caught the corner of his eye.
There, where the large leather couch sat on one side of the room, a golden glow appeared, hidden almost beneath some fabric.
This must have been what Ms Parson had spoken about.
He leaned closer and tried to grab it but instantly jerked back when he realised what was in front of him in the dim light.
Lady Gresely was lying on the sofa asleep, the glow coming from that strange, ornate golden whistle she often wore around her neck, tucked beneath her jacket with her tie.
Aaron silently cursed.
If Lady Gresley woke up and saw him in her office standing over her then he'd be immediately fired and he wouldn't get that enormous paycheck from Ms Parsons.
As much as he didn't like the woman, she held all the cards here. She could think the worst of him and press charges. No matter how you looked at it, It wouldn't look good if he was caught attacking a heavily pregnant woman while she was asleep and defenceless.
Was the money worth it?
He was hesitant but heard voices in the corridor outside and so decided to quickly make his move.
Ever so careful he gently pried the golden whistle from out of her jacket and gingerly pulled it over and around Lady Gresley's head, making an effort not to wake her.
She did not flinch once, even as the braided chain slipped between her head and the sofa she was on.
Aaron stood for a moment, staring at the strangely warm whistle in the palm of his hand as it glowed, almost like a heartbeat.
£15,000 for a little trinket? He'd gladly take that bet.
He slipped out of Lady Gresley's office as swiftly and as silently as he had entered.
We need to give Percy some love up in here. We love Percy in this house.