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Chapter Text

Chapter 1 – Thomas, Percy and the Coal

Railways in Great Britain have long been famous for the unique liveries for both their rolling stock and locomotives. This became a prominent feature of the ‘Big Five*’ railways between 1923 and 1947 before the British Railway era.

The Great Western Railway (GWR) had its locomotives predominately painted in middle chrome green with orange lining and red frames. The London, Midland, and Scottish Railway (LMS) preferred Crimson Lake for their locomotives. The London and North Eastern Railway (LNER) had an eclectic mix of locomotives painted apple green or black with gold lining, although a few special locomotives were painted garter blue or silver-grey. Southern Railway (SR) had the largest assortment of colours for their locomotives, ranging from black and dark umber to bulleid light green and grey. Finally, the North Western Railway (NWR) initially had a preference for cerulean blue and apple green with red lining, although after Nationalisation, locomotives were permitted by the North Western Railway Board to select their own liveries. While most decided to keep their NWR liveries, many of the newer engines opted to keep their original livery from whatever railway they had originated from.

Although, the way Thomas talked sometimes, you’d think that the Fat Controller had selected cerulean blue to be painted only on his very best engines. After all, Thomas, Edward, Gordon, Donald, and Douglas all carried that particular livery. That belief sometimes went to Thomas’ smokebox and made him think that he was better than Percy or Toby, since he was the only NWR tank engine painted in cerulean blue. As for Daisy, well, let’s just say that Thomas didn’t care to bother expressing his biased opinions on her. Unfortunately for Percy and Toby, that meant that they were often on the receiving end of Thomas’ boastful outbursts.

It all started one evening as the three steam engines were being bedded down in their shed at Ffarquhar by their respective crews. Thomas and Percy were recollecting how, three years earlier, they, along with Duck, had been the only engines available to pull the express. They’d done well together; however, Percy had run out of steam on Gordon’s Hill.

“…And so, Duck and I had to continue pulling Percy and the express all the way to Crovan’s Gate,” Thomas told Toby. “Unfortunately, just outside the station, Duck ran out of steam too. I tried to keep the train going, but I was too exhausted and so we didn’t quite make it to the platform.”

“The Fat Controller praised us though,” Percy interjected. “He said that we did really well to get so far, and that we were all really useful engines.”

“You weren’t!” Thomas retorted a bit sharper than he’d intended. “You gave up halfway!”

“I didn’t give up!” Percy squeaked. “I just ran out of steam. It happens to all of us.”

Thomas huffed importantly. “Well, it just goes to show that blue engines like me and Gordon are much more capable of pulling the express than green engines like you, Duck and Henry.”

Percy tried to let off steam, but since his crew had already dropped his fire, only a feeble gush was emitted from his cylinder drain cocks. The steam wafted in Thomas’ face for a moment, making him scowl.

“As I was saying,” Thomas continued, “blue is the only proper colour for an engine.”

Toby finally spoke up. “Oh, I don’t know. I like my brown paint.”

“I’ve always been green,” Percy put in. “I wouldn’t want to be any other colour either.”

“Blue is the only colour for a really useful engine,” Thomas insisted. “Everybody knows that! Why else would the Fat Controller prefer it?”

Toby rolled his eyes just as Percy winked at him. Then Toby yawned.

“Well, thank you for telling us that interesting story, Thomas,” Toby said, trying to stay polite. “I’m afraid I’m rather tired, so I’m going to go to sleep now.”

“Yes,” Percy agreed, stifling a yawn. “Goodnight.”

Thomas sighed as he listened to his shed-mates settling down to sleep. He knew he’d probably ruffled them a little bit, but if he’d managed to get his point across, he felt it was worth it.

I hope the Fat Controller lets me pull the express again one day, Thomas thought as he closed his eyes. It’d be fun to pull it with Gordon…or Edward… Then everyone will see just how useful I really am…

…

The following morning, Thomas awoke slowly as he felt his firebox and boiler warming up. He yawned deeply before blinking open his eyes. An engine cleaner was sitting on top of Thomas’ left-hand tank, polishing Thomas’ boiler.

“At least you appreciate my sparkling blue paintwork,” Thomas muttered sleepily.

The engine cleaner scoffed. “I don’t know why Mr Hatt** likes blue paint so much. It’s so hard to keep clean! Black engines don’t show the soot.”

Thomas was speechless! Unfortunately for him, Percy had overheard what the engine cleaner had said, and he chuckled.

“See Thomas? Blue isn’t a proper colour for an engine at all!”

Thomas went red in the face as his steam pressure suddenly shot up to his maximum boiler pressure of a hundred and seventy PSI. Almost immediately, his safety valves lifted, venting the excess steam. Luckily, the firelighter was still in the shed, so he quickly leaned inside Thomas’ cab to open the fireman’s side injector. The injector forced water from Thomas’ tanks into his boiler, cooling it down and thereby also dropping his steam pressure.

At that moment, Thomas’ fireman, Simon, entered the shed. He’d heard Thomas’ safety valves going off clear across the yard.

“What’s got you so agitated at this hour of the morning, Thomas?” Simon asked apprehensively. Steam engine mood swings weren’t something that he was very good at dealing with.  

“This engine cleaner said that my blue paint is too hard for him to keep clean!” Thomas answered indignantly as his safety valves finally dropped closed. “He said he prefers black engines!”

Simon motioned for the engine cleaner to climb down. “Never mind what he thinks, Thomas. We all know that Mr Hatt prefers the colour blue, which is why he likes to see his engines painted in it.”

“Yeah, but he doesn’t have to clean them!” the engine cleaner muttered as he climbed into Thomas’ cab in order to climb down safely. “If he did, he’d agree with me that darker colours are better on steam engines.”

“Why don’t we just agree that all engines are useful, regardless of what colour they’re painted?” Toby asked thoughtfully.

“Here, here!” Percy squeaked in agreement.

Thomas just let off steam loudly. The noise caught the attention of the yard manager, who stormed over to the shed.

“What’s going on in here?” he demanded to know. He continued without waiting for an explanation. “Well, Thomas, since you’re clearly ready to work, you can take the milk train instead of Percy.” And he made a note on his clipboard.

“But my driver isn’t here yet!” Thomas protested.

“That didn’t stop you before!” Percy teased, referring to the time over twenty years earlier when Thomas had tried to go without his driver, only to end up unceremoniously crashing into the Ffarquhar Stationmaster’s house.

Furious, Thomas let off so much steam that it filled the shed. Simon quickly climbed inside the cab, and he drove Thomas out of the shed before they got into trouble. Since Thomas often operated as a push-pull auto train with Annie and Clarabel, Simon knew how to drive Thomas as well as fire him.

“Just simmer down, Thomas,” Simon ordered sternly. “At least the extra run should help calm you down.”

He was right. By late morning, Thomas had mostly forgotten about the argument with the engine cleaner. It was a beautiful day and, despite taking the milk train on top of all his other work, Thomas had managed to keep to his timetable.

Just before noon, Thomas arrived at Ffarquhar with his second passenger train of the day. He was now scheduled to have a forty-minute rest in a siding, so his crew could have their lunch break. Thomas left Annie and Clarabel at the station platform while he went over to the water column to have his tanks refilled.

While Thomas’ crew were enjoying their lunch inside the station’s café, Thomas rested quietly. After about ten minutes, he heard Percy approaching with his daily coal train for the yard.

“Hi Thomas!” Percy whistled as he entered the yard.

“Percy,” Thomas replied quietly. He’d been reflecting on his boastful behaviour, and now he felt bad for starting such a petty argument. Toby’s words from earlier ran through his mind. All engines are useful, regardless of what colour they’re painted… I should probably apologise to Percy…

Thomas watched as Percy started shunting his train into the siding alongside him.

“Be careful in this siding, Percy,” he warned kindly. “These buffers aren’t very safe. They…”

Before Thomas could say another word, the catch on one of the trucks jolted loose and the door fell open. About a tonne of coal cascaded out of the truck, piling up around Thomas’ wheels. A dark cloud of coaldust surrounded Thomas. Some of it settled inside his mouth, nose, eyes, and funnel, while even more filled his cab and entered his firebox (the firebox door had been left slightly ajar). While the fire consumed some of the dust, most of it made its way down inside Thomas’ boiler tubes as he gasped.  

Thomas instinctively closed his eyes and sneezed as his system tried to expel the excess coaldust. Normally, the coal would be sprayed with water to help prevent the dust from irritating both crew and engine, and so Thomas wasn’t used to having his tubes and smokebox filled with such fine dust.

“Help! I’m choking!” Thomas wheezed. “Get me out!” He sneezed again, sending a spray of hot ashes out of his funnel.

Percy was initially worried. While he’d never had much coaldust enter his own tubes, he’d heard from other engines just how terrible the choking feeling could be. However, when the dust finally settled, Percy started to laugh. Thomas’ shiny blue paintwork was now covered entirely in a heavy layer of black soot.

“You don’t look really useful now,” Percy remarked, remembering Thomas’ comments from the night before. “You should see yourself! You look really disgraceful.”

“I am not disgraceful!” Thomas tried to spit some of the coaldust out of his mouth, but since it had now mixed with his saliva, it turned into a black sludge that dribbled down his chin. “You did that on purpose, Percy! Now, stop your stupid giggling and get me out before I choke to death!”

Having witnessed the incident from the café windows, Thomas’ crew hurried over to him.

“Goodness! What a mess!” Simon exclaimed. He turned to face Michael, the driver. “Run over to the signal box and see if you can organise for a clean-up crew to come and help. We won’t be able to move Thomas until the coal’s been removed.”

…

Once the team of workmen had removed the pile of coal from around Thomas’ wheels, Percy was able to shunt Thomas over to the shed. Thomas was still struggling to breathe, and he felt miserable. Since there was no way Thomas would be cleaned in time to take his next train, Toby was sent for from the quarry. Upon seeing the state poor Thomas was in, Toby wisely kept his mouth shut. Annie and Clarabel had witnessed the whole incident and were quite distressed by what had happened. Therefore, Toby spent most of the trip to Knapford calming and reassuring them that Thomas would be okay.

 Meanwhile, the engine cleaners arrived to start cleaning Thomas. Thomas scowled when he recognised the cleaner who’d upset him that morning.

“Are you happy now?” Thomas snapped. “You said you preferred cleaning black engines, so it looks like you’ve got your wish!”

The cleaner just shook his head in disgust. “Guess I put my foot in it, didn’t I?” he muttered as he set to work with his damp sponge.

It took hours for the cleaners to finish scrubbing the coaldust off Thomas. They were tired and filthy themselves by the time they’d finished. However, their timing was good, because they finished just in time for Thomas to take his evening train to Tidmouth.

Unfortunately for Thomas, the engine cleaners had only cleaned him on the outside. He still had a lot of coaldust inside his system, which made it very difficult for him to breathe.

When Thomas had been built, he and his siblings had been known to be poor steamers. They’d often struggled to raise steam, but once they got going, they’d been able to do their work well, as long as they weren’t overloaded. Upon Thomas’ arrival on Sodor, he’d often suffered from steaming problems, until the day an experienced engine inspector taught his fireman at the time, how to get enough oxygen into Thomas’ firebox to keep his fire going until Thomas had raised a good head of steam. Since then, Thomas had only occasionally had steaming problems, usually early in the morning.

During Thomas’ journey from Ffarquhar to Tidmouth, in which he pushed Annie and Clarabel in reverse from the rear of the train, while Michael operated the auto train controls from Clarabel, he found himself struggling to breathe properly. His tubes and firebox ached as he struggled to draw enough air through his system in order to keep his steam pressure up. He didn’t complain though, because he knew that his passengers were depending on him to get them to their destinations on time.

When they arrived at Elsbridge, they had a slightly longer wait while Simon refilled Thomas’ water tanks. Michael walked from Clarabel to Thomas, to see for himself why Thomas wasn’t giving him the steam pressure he wanted.

“I can’t breathe properly,” Thomas feebly told Michael when he felt the man climb inside his cab.

“I know,” Michael replied soothingly. After checking Thomas’ fire, he adjusted a couple of valves that he hoped would help increase the steam flow. Then, he climbed out of the cab and walked around to Thomas’ front. He scratched his head. “You don’t normally struggle to raise steam at this time of day…”

Thomas coughed before he spoke. “It was the coaldust… I accidentally inhaled a lot.”  

“Ah! It’s probably clogged up your tubes. Just do your best, and I’ll organise for a n inspector to examine you once we get back to Ffarquhar.”

Thomas groaned with dismay. Like most engines, he didn’t like being poked and prodded by fitters and engine inspectors. Nor did he like being sent to the Works for repairs. Even though he knew the Fat Controller would never have him scrapped, the place always made him nervous.

The rest at Elsbridge helped a little, and by the time the guard blew his whistle, Thomas has raised enough steam to enable him to continue, albeit a little slower than usual.

When Thomas arrived at Tidmouth, he was still running as an auto train, so he reversed into platform three. From Clarabel, Michael applied the brakes and eased to a stop. Glancing across to platform two, Thomas saw the tail end of the express. He sighed tiredly, knowing that if Gordon had beaten him to Tidmouth, he was running late.

“You’re late, Thomas!” a well-known voice scolded from out of Thomas’ line of sight.

“I’m sorry, sir,” Thomas wheezed. He coughed a couple of times, causing hot ashes to fly out of his funnel.

Coming around to Thomas’ front, the Fat Controller, Mr Stephen Hatt, softened when he saw how ill and tired Thomas looked.

“I heard about your incident with the coal earlier. Are you all right?”

“Not…(cough)…really, sir. I inhaled a lot of coaldust… Can’t breathe properly…”

Simon leaned out of the cab. “We’ll nurse him home and have an inspector examine him when we get there, sir.”

Stephen nodded slowly. “Very well.” He turned his attention back to Thomas. “Just do your best.”

“I will, sir,” Thomas promised.

It was eight-thirty in the evening by the time Thomas returned to his shed. Percy and Toby had already been bedded down for the night. They didn’t say anything as Thomas slowly entered his berth.

A fitter and an engine inspector, whose name was Mr Collins, were waiting for him. Thomas had known Mr Collins for a number of years, and so despite being nervous around the other engine inspectors, Thomas trusted him. He breathed a small sigh of relief.

“We got your message,” Mr Collins told Thomas’ crew as they climbed down from the cab. “I agree with your diagnosis. Given the symptoms, I’m pretty certain that Thomas’ tubes are blocked.”

“I’ll take a look,” the fitter said before he climbed into Thomas’ cab.

Mr Collins patted Thomas’ water tank sympathetically while they waited. Inside the cab, the fitter opened Thomas’ firebox door. With the aid of the firelight and a torch, he inspected Thomas’ tubes.

“Yeah, the tubes are blocked, all right!” he reported after a few minutes. “I’ll get the brush to clean them out.”

 Thomas scowled. No engine liked having their tubes cleaned out. The brushes were uncomfortable, and the bristles tickled badly. He coughed again, deliberately this time, in an effort to try and clear his tubes before the fitter did. However, it didn’t do any good. The coaldust was just too thick for Thomas to clear it on his own.

By the time the fitter had finished cleaning Thomas’ tubes, Thomas felt both mentally and physically drained. The men had carted away one and a half wheelbarrows full of coaldust and ash from his tubes. Any embarrassment Thomas had felt while undergoing the procedure was replaced with relief.

At least I can breathe again! Thomas thought as the men locked up the shed for the night. No thanks to Percy… He let out a long, tired sigh.   

“Who’d have thought it?” Percy began, breaking the silence. “Fancy, a Really Useful blue engine like Thomas becoming a disgrace to the Fat Controller’s Railway.”

“You wait, Percy!” Thomas seethed. “One day, you’ll laugh on the other side of your smokebox.”

“Pah!” Percy scoffed dismissively. “I wouldn’t have missed all that fun for anything.”

Thomas continued to seethe. Perhaps it’s lucky for Percy that Thomas was too exhausted to think of anything else to say.

…

For the next two days, Thomas and Percy ignored each other completely. It wasn’t difficult for them to do so, since Thomas had his passengers to take, while Percy had his goods. They only crossed paths a handful of times during the day, so anyone observing from a distance would have no idea that the two engines weren’t speaking to each other.

Toby and Daisy wisely did their best to avoid making the feud even worse. However, Annie and Clarabel weren’t quite as tactful.

“Perhaps you should apologise to Percy?” Annie suggested as Thomas made his return journey from Knapford one morning.

“Why should I?” Thomas snapped. “He started it! He’s the one who needs to apologise to me!”

“But…” Annie began, before she lapsed into silence. Sometimes, it was better to just refrain from arguing with Thomas. Especially when he was angry.

“He shouldn’t have laughed at me!” Thomas hissed crossly as he thundered along the line. “He deliberately smothered me with coal, and then he laughed at me! Friends don’t do that!”

“Simmer down, Thomas,” Michael soothed. “It wasn’t Percy’s fault. The truck’s catch was faulty.”

“He still laughed at me!” Thomas seethed crossly. “He laughed at me because HE covered my nice blue paint in filthy coaldust! He’ll pay! I’ll make him pay!”

Michael and Simon exchanged worried glances. They knew that whenever the engines decided to pay another engine back, things got chaotic at best, and at worse, downright dangerous.

Later that day, Thomas was at Ffarquhar, preparing to depart with his next train. Once again, Clarabel was going to lead the train while he pushed in reverse from the rear. Thomas scowled when he heard Percy approaching with one of his regular goods trains. Percy was too thirsty to care about whether or not Thomas ignored him. After he’d arranged his trucks, Percy headed for the nearest water column. It stood at the end of the siding with the damaged buffers.

As Percy reversed into the siding, Thomas heard a loud cracking sound followed by a metallic clang.

“Oh!” Percy wailed. “Help!”

Even if Thomas had wanted to help, he couldn’t. All he could do was watch out of his peripheral vision as Percy reversed straight into the buffers, which shattered upon impact. The wooden coal bunker behind Percy splintered under his weight. Coaldust filled the air for the second time in just three days. Luckily, this time, the wind blew the coaldust away from Thomas.

The dust had only just started to settle, when the signal dropped, and the guard blew his whistle. Thomas steamed away slowly, laughing as he took in the scene. Percy’s green paint was as black as his had been after his own incident.

“Oh, that was just too perfect!” Thomas exclaimed happily once he was out of Percy’s hearing range. “Percy got his comeuppance, and I didn’t have to do anything!”

Thomas was on a high for the rest of the day. However, the feud was far from over.    

Chapter Text

Chapter 2 – The Runaway – Part 1

While Percy was away at the Works having his brakes repaired, Thomas was left to do his work as well as his own. While Thomas didn’t mind working hard, he found it exhausting not getting the breaks between runs that he usually had. Had he been a much younger engine, he perhaps wouldn’t have found the workload so difficult.

It’s all Percy’s fault! Thomas thought crossly as he was coupled up to a train of twelve trucks filled with stone from the quarry. If his brakes hadn’t failed, I wouldn’t be stuck doing all of his work along with my own!

Thomas let off steam crossly. He looked up to see the approaching yard manager frowning at him.

“Thomas, you should know better than to blow off steam in the yard,” he scolded.

“I’m sorry, sir,” Thomas apologised. “I’m just tired.”

“Well, the good news is that this yard will be back to normal tomorrow. Percy’s repairs are finished, and he’s coming back here tonight.”

“Oh.” Thomas wasn’t sure what else to say. He was still furious with Percy, but at least he’d no longer have to take care of Percy’s trains.

The yard manager flicked through the sheets of paper fastened to his clipboard. “Anyway, those trucks need to be delivered to Wellsworth. Boco will take them from there.”

“But that’s miles away!” Thomas protested. “And my next train is scheduled to leave here in…” Thomas glanced at the station clock, “…half an hour. I’ll never make it back in time!”

“You will if you stop whinging and just get on with it,” the yard manager retorted before going to the cab and handing the waybill and other documents to Michael.

After checking that the documentation was correct, Michael handed it back so that the yard manager could pass it onto the guard. The guard would carry the documents and hand them over to the Wellsworth yard manager.

Once everything was ready, the guard blew his whistle and Thomas slowly set off. It was a lot harder to pull twelve heavy stone trucks than it was to pull Annie and Clarabel, and so Thomas couldn’t go as fast as he wanted to. Still, he did his best to get to Wellsworth as fast as he could.

Unfortunately, by the time Thomas arrived back at Knapford, this time with a train of fifteen empty trucks from Wellsworth, he could see from the station clock that he only had ten minutes to get from Knapford to Ffarquhar.

“I’ll never make it in time!” Thomas wailed as he waited impatiently for the signalman to change the points so he could return to his branch line.

Simon glanced at Thomas’ water level gauge and frowned. “We’re starting to run low on water. I’m not sure if we’ll make it to Elsbridge to refill.”

“Let’s use the water tower at Toryreck,” Michael suggested. Just then, the signal dropped, giving them the ‘all clear’. Michael opened the regulator and Thomas slowly crossed over the points onto his branch line. “I know that that water tower doesn’t get used much, but it should be all right.”

“I suppose that it’s better than nothing,” Simon agreed.

Upon their arrival at Toryreck, Michael and Simon quickly set about refilling Thomas’ water tanks. The water tower had indeed been unused for a number of years, and so they found that the tap was rusty and stiff. It took Michael a great deal of strength to open the tap. However, instead of allowing the water to flow straight into Thomas’ tanks, Simon let it flow onto the track-bed first. He did that in order to flush out the hosepipe and ensure that only fresh, clean water entered Thomas’ tanks.

Thomas was very relieved to finally enter the Ffarquhar yard, albeit twenty minutes late. He could see his passengers gathered on the platform. Many of them were already grumbling to the stationmaster about the delay. The shunter uncoupled Thomas, who hurried over to the carriage shed to collect Annie and Clarabel.

“You’re late, Thomas!” the coaches admonished in unison.    

“Tell me something I don’t know!” Thomas snapped crossly as he was coupled to them.

Thomas tried to hurry to make up for lost time, but it seemed that the harder he tried, the more time he lost. He was also starting to develop what can only be described as a headache in his smokebox. He tried his best to ignore it as he raced along his branch line.

James was already waiting at Knapford by the time Thomas steamed in. Thomas groaned. The biggest problem with a guaranteed connection was that if one train was running late, the other would also be held up. 

“You’re late!” James snapped, letting off steam.

Thomas’ passengers scrambled to disembark from Annie and Clarabel. They hurried across the platform to board James’ train, giving James’ guard, ticket collectors and the Knapford Stationmaster a hard time.

Thomas was red in the face and panting with exhaustion. “It’s not my fault that I have to do Percy’s work as well as my own,” he muttered despondently.

“Pah!” James scoffed. “You’re just a lazy little tank engine who doesn’t know anything about hard work.”

With the passengers now aboard James’ train, the guard blew his whistle. James hurried away, leaving Thomas close to tears. James’ unkind words had stung, leaving Thomas feeling like a failure.

“I tried,” Thomas whispered as a tear slipped out and tumbled down his cheek. “I tried so hard to catch up. It hardly seems worth it…”

Michael patted Thomas’ side. “The important thing is that we got the passengers here safely,” he said. “Come on. We need to get back to Ffarquhar and see what the yard manager wants us to do next.”

Thomas wearily let off steam. Michael put Thomas into reverse before he climbed down from the cab to go and get into Clarabel for the return journey to Ffarquhar.

…

The rest of Thomas’ day didn’t improve. No matter what he did, he couldn’t make up the time he’d lost. In fact, he just kept losing time. As a result, he was over half an hour late for his evening connection at Tidmouth. He wasn’t at all surprised to find the Fat Controller on the platform, waiting for him, along with his cranky passengers.

“I’m so sorry I’m late, sir,” Thomas began before he’d even come to a complete stop. His cheeks were flushed red from exertion, and he was panting heavily. His headache was pounding now too, making Thomas feel downright miserable. Of course, the Fat Controller couldn’t see that.

The Fat Controller stared at Thomas for a moment, while he reconsidered what he’d been going to say. He could see that Thomas was flustered and exhausted, and he now realised that it was partially his own fault.

“I’m sorry that you’ve been overwhelmed in Percy’s absence,” the Fat Controller said slowly. “I assumed that you’d be able to handle it. Clearly, I was wrong. You’re always so reliable that sometimes I forget that you’re no longer as young as you used to be.”

Thomas remained silent. He knew that, deep down, the Fat Controller was correct in his opinion. Thomas was seventy years old, which for a steam engine was quite old. Most steam engines had a working life expectancy of just thirty years.

“Percy should be back at Ffarquhar by the time you get back there,” the Fat Controller added kindly. “Which means that, tomorrow, you can go back to your regular passenger schedule.”

“Thank you, sir,” Thomas whispered. He had mixed feelings about Percy’s return.

By then, the passengers had boarded, and Michael had walked down the platform and boarded Clarabel for the return journey to Ffarquhar. The guard blew his whistle and Thomas slowly reversed his auto train out of the station. The Fat Controller watched him leave. He was deep in thought.

…

It was very late by the time Thomas entered his shed. Sure enough, Percy was back. Toby was giving Percy a run-down on what had happened while he’d been away. As soon as Thomas’ wheels stopped turning, he let out a long, weary sigh, along with a small cloud of steam.

“I could sleep for a week,” Thomas muttered wearily.

Percy scoffed. “At least you were being Really Useful, for a change…”

Perhaps it’s fortunate for Percy that Thomas was too exhausted to think of a comeback. Instead, Thomas groaned as the pounding in his smokebox increased. He closed his eyes, hoping that a good night’s sleep would get rid of it. It wasn’t long before Thomas’ crew left him for the night, locking the shed behind them.

“Well, anyway, you didn’t really miss out on anything significant, Percy,” Toby said, hoping to distract Percy away from Thomas.

“I can’t wait to get back to work tomorrow,” Percy replied. “The Works are so boring.”

Toby smiled in agreement. “Did you see anyone else while you were there?”

“Only another new diesel. I’m not sure what he was in there for, but the fitters spent a long time working on his engine. I’d like to know how diesels work, but I was afraid to ask in case he took offence. He seemed nice though. Oh, and Donald also visited to deliver some supplies. Aside from that, I was mostly alone.”

“Better to have an empty Works than a full one,” Toby said wisely.     

Thomas had finally had enough. “Would you two shut up?” he snapped. “I’m trying to sleep here!”

Toby and Percy were taken aback by Thomas’ sudden outburst, but they complied. Within minutes, Thomas fell asleep. Toby and Percy waited until they heard Thomas’ steady breathing before they resumed their conversation in a soft whisper.

…

Early the following morning, shortly before dawn, Thomas awoke suddenly. He immediately knew why. He was sick. His smokebox was still aching terribly, but now he also had boiler-ache. Unlike humans, steam engines can’t throw up, and so poor Thomas was extremely uncomfortable. He tried to go back to sleep, but it was no good. Instead, he just panted heavily in a vain attempt to settle his unhappy boiler.

When the firelighter finally arrived, he set to work lighting Toby’s fire first, since Toby would be the first engine to leave the shed that morning. He then moved onto Percy. While the firelighter was attending to Percy, the engine cleaners and firemen arrived at around the same time.

Simon climbed into Thomas’ cab and, after taking out Thomas’ logbook, he started filling out the report he’d forgotten to write the night before. After a few minutes, Thomas let out a low groan that caught Simon’s attention.

“Sorry, Thomas. Did I wake you?”

“No,” Thomas moaned. “I don’t feel well…”

Simon put the logbook aside and, after climbing out of the cab, he came around to face Thomas. While some engines were known for faking illness to get out of work, Simon knew that Thomas would never do that. For all of Thomas’ faults, lying wasn’t one of them.

“Do you hurt anywhere?” Simon asked kindly.

“My boiler…” Thomas replied, wincing slightly. “And my smokebox aches…”

Seeing that the firelighter was about to climb into Thomas’ cab, Simon quickly stopped him. “Don’t light Thomas’ fire yet. I’m taking him out of service until I can get an inspector to come and look at him.”

“Fine, I guess I’ll go home then,” the firelighter grumbled.

Simon went over to the shed’s phone, and he started making a number of calls. Thomas, knowing that he’d now be cared for, relaxed a little. Then, Toby and Percy started to wake up.    

“Oh, I can’t wait to get to work!” Percy said eagerly.

“Well, I’m sure Thomas will enjoy having you back,” Toby smiled. Then, he saw one of the engine cleaners hang a sign on Thomas’ front lamp iron. Toby had been around long enough to know that when a sign like that was placed on an engine, it meant that they were being taken out of service. “Is everything okay, Thomas?”

“No…” Thomas groaned. “I’m not feeling well…”

“Maybe you overdid it yesterday trying to catch up for lost time,” Toby suggested.

“Maybe,” Thomas agreed.

Simon finished his phone calls, and he came around to face Thomas.

“Okay, I’ve been in touch with Mr Hatt,” Simon told him. “He’s ordered for you to be taken to Knapford. The fitters will examine you there. Apparently, Gordon’s valve gear has jammed, so they’re all busy trying to free it so he can pull the express. Anyway, I’ve arranged for Percy to take you to Knapford with the milk train.”

“What?” Thomas wailed in despair.

“I’m not taking him anywhere!” Percy snapped. “He didn’t try to help me at all when my brakes failed. All he did was laugh at me, so why should I help him?”

“You laughed at me first!” Thomas retorted.

“At least I helped you!”

“THAT’S ENOUGH!” Simon shouted. He rubbed his forehead with his hand as the engines fell silent.

“Would it perhaps be easier if I took Thomas and the milk train?” Toby suggested.

“No, you’re needed at the quarry…” Simon mused. “I’ll talk to the yard manager again and see if we can send Thomas to Knapford with Daisy and her first train. But you can expect repercussions for your refusal to help, Percy.” And with that, Simon stormed back over to the telephone.

“What’s re-concussions mean?” Percy wondered.

“It means a telling off from the Fat Controller,” Thomas explained through gritted teeth. “And you thoroughly deserve it for not helping me.” He groaned as his smokebox started pounding again.

“You’re not that sick then, are you?” Toby teased. Thomas just pouted in response.

Before long, Percy and Toby set off to start work. Shortly later, Daisy was coupled up to Thomas.

“I’m so sorry to hear that you’re not feeling well, Thomas,” Daisy cooed. “I remember the last time I was sick. It was awful, but my fitter helped me recover quickly. He’s wonderful, and I’d happily loan him to you if you were a diesel. I’m afraid he doesn’t know much about steam engines.”

Simon climbed into Thomas’ cab, and he released the handbrake, so Daisy could pull him. He then climbed out of the cab.

“Okay, Thomas,” Simon said as he patted Thomas’ side. “I’ll see you later.”

“Aren’t you coming with me to Knapford?”

“No. If the fitters are able to fix you, Michael and I will come and collect you from there. If not…” He shrugged. “Let’s just hope it’s nothing serious.”

“Do you think it is?” Thomas asked anxiously.

“Let’s just wait and see what the fitters say.”

Simon turned and nodded to Daisy’s driver, who was leaning out of her cab window. Daisy’s driver gave a thumbs up in return before he moved back inside the cab. With a toot of Daisy’s horn, she set off pulling Thomas along behind her.

…

Just over an hour later, Daisy and Thomas arrived at Knapford. After Daisy had dropped off her passengers at the platform, she shunted Thomas onto a siding in the yard. A shunter applied Thomas’ handbrake before he uncoupled Daisy. With a cheerful toot, Daisy left.  

Gordon stood in the siding next to Thomas, surrounded by his crew, two inspectors, six fitters and the Fat Controller. The fitters were taking turns to try and free Gordon’s jammed valve gear. Thomas was relieved to see that one of the inspectors was Mr Collins. He didn’t recognise the other inspector.

“Ouch!” Gordon yelped. He sighed heavily with frustration. “Do hurry up! I don’t want Henry to take the express.”

“If this cannot be fixed within the next ten minutes, Henry will have to take it,” the Fat Controller decided.

“I think we’ve almost got it,” one of the fitters said.

Gordon’s driver scratched his head. “I still have no idea how it could have jammed.”

“It’s called old age,” Mr Collins explained simply. “Things start to seize up for no reason.”

“How dare you!” Gordon exclaimed.

“It’s called facts, Gordon,” Mr Collins retorted. He consulted his clipboard before turning to face Thomas. “I understand that you’re not feeling well this morning, Thomas?”

“That’s right, Mr Collins,” Thomas muttered despondently. “I woke up feeling sick.”

“Can you describe the symptoms?”

“I’ve got boiler-ache, and my smokebox aches too…”

“I see…” Mr Collins went over to the fitters, who were still crowded around Gordon. “I need one of you over here to help me with Thomas.”

The Fat Controller and one of the fitters followed Mr Collins back over to Thomas.

“What’s wrong with him this time?” the Fat Controller asked.

“He’s complaining of boiler-ache and an ache in his smokebox,” Mr Collins explained. “Given the symptoms, I suspect that there’s a water quality issue causing it.” He looked at the fitter. “Could you draw off a water sample while I get the testing kit from my car?”

“Sure,” the fitter replied.

While Mr Collins was gone, the fitter went inside a nearby staff hut to collect a plastic cup. The Fat Controller patted Thomas’ front right-hand buffer affectionately.  

“Again, I’m sorry I didn’t send anyone to help you while Percy was being repaired. I’ve just been so busy, and…”

“It’s okay, sir,” Thomas interrupted. “I was handling most of it up until yesterday, when I fell behind.”

The Fat Controller sighed sadly, and he leaned against Thomas’ running board. “It’s not okay. I know I’ve only been in charge of the railway for about two years, since my father retired, but I’m still figuring things out. Regardless, it’s my job to ensure you’re not overworked.”

“Him? Overworked?” Gordon scoffed. “Thomas doesn’t know the meaning of hard work, let alone being overworked!”

“Anymore teasing from you. Gordon, and I’ll ensure you won’t take the express at all today!” the Fat Controller snapped. “I’ll give you Henry’s work to do instead.”

Gordon shuddered at the threat. “Trucks! Urgh!” 

Thomas sniggered softly, despite himself.

When the fitter returned a moment later, he climbed inside Thomas’s cab. Underneath the glass water level gauges, all steam engines have a small tap that allows a small amount of water from the boiler to be collected for sampling. Mr Collins returned with the water test kit just as the fitter finished collecting the water sample. He handed it down to Mr Collins, taking care not to spill any. Mr Collins frowned when he saw how murky the water was.

“Thomas? Where and when did your crew last fill your tanks?”

“Last night at Ffarquhar,” Thomas replied.

“Did you do anything different from your normal schedule yesterday?”

Thomas scowled. “Yes. I was doing all of Percy’s work, along with my own.”

Mt Collins turned back to the fitter. “Check his filters. I’ll get started on the tests.”

Thomas watched on curiously as Mr Collins placed the water sample and test kit down on his front running board. The Fat Controller also watched as Mr Collins started conducting a water ph. test.

“Did you have your tanks refilled anywhere that you don’t normally go to?” Mr Collins asked.

Thomas thought for a moment. “Toryreck, I was hurrying to get back to Ffarquhar for my train, but I didn’t have enough water left, so my crew refilled my tanks at Toryreck. We don’t use that water column much anymore because it’s old.”

The fitter brought one of Thomas’ water filters over to Mr Collins. “Given how much gunk is in this filter, I’d say Thomas’ injectors are fouled up too. I noticed that there’s some limescale starting to build up in his pipes as well.”

Mr Collins shook his head in disgust when he saw the large amount of sediment in the bottom of the filter. Then, he shook the ph. test tube to mix the water sample with the chemicals to create a coloured reaction. He whistled when he saw the new colour inside the test tube. It was pale green.

“That’s not good!” the fitter gasped.

“No…” Mr Collins mused. “But at least it explains why Thomas is sick.” He looked up at Thomas to explain. “Your ph. levels should be between ten and twelve, but yours is sitting at eight point two. That’s far too acidic to do you any good.”

A metallic clang filled the yard, making everyone look over at the crowd around Gordon.

“Got it!” one of the fitters shouted triumphantly.

“Ouch!” Gordon exclaimed at the same time. “Oh, it’s about time!”

The Fat Controller sighed with relief. “Good work! At least that’s one problem alleviated.”

“Thanks,” Gordon’s driver said, patting the fitter on the shoulder. “Guess we’d better get going, or we’ll be late.”

Mr Collins packed up the water test kit. The Fat Controller turned back to face him.

“Can you treat Thomas here?” he asked Mr Collins.

Mr Collins shook his head. “I’m afraid not, sir. He needs to have his boiler and tanks flushed out, and I’d recommend that he undergoes a full boiler examination to ensure he’s suffered no significant internal damage. That could take at least a week.”

“I see.” The Fat Controller looked up at Thomas. “In that case, Edward must take you to the Works. I’ll organise for someone to replace you on your branch line while you’re recovering.”

“Thank you, sir,” Thomas replied despondently.

Gordon chuckled. “Enjoy your boiler washout, little Thomas! I’ll whistle whenever I pass the Works, just so you can see what hard work is.”

“If I were you, I wouldn’t go wasting my steam on whistling,” Thomas retorted. “Your whistle valve might jam open again.”  

“Pah!” Gordon scoffed.

“Gordon…” the Fat Controller interrupted warningly. “I might have some trucks waiting for you…”

“I’m going, sir!” And Gordon hastily steamed away. 

The Fat Controller, inspectors and fitters also left the yard, leaving Thomas all alone. But he wasn’t alone for very long.

Edward whistled cheerfully as he reversed up to Thomas’ bunker. “Hello, Thomas! I’m sorry you’re ill. The Fat Controller has asked me to take you to the Works, since I need to go there anyway to collect a goods train.”

“Thank you, Edward,” Thomas replied. “I’m glad it’s you taking me. I really don’t feel like talking right now though.”

“I understand.”

After Edward had been coupled to Thomas, his fireman hung a red disk on one of Thomas’ front lamp irons to indicate that he was the end of the train. He then released Thomas’ handbrake before returning to Edward’s cab. Once everything was ready, they set off.

As Edward was steaming out of the yard, Thomas saw the Fat Controller talking to Duck. He frowned anxiously. He didn’t know Duck at all, since the two engines rarely crossed paths. He only hoped that Toby would instruct Duck to treat Annie and Clarabel kindly while he was away.  

Chapter Text

Chapter 3 – The Runaway – Part 2

Thomas groaned softly as he slowly woke up. A loud metallic clang somewhere nearby reminded him of where he was before he even opened his eyes – the Works. A tired sigh slipped through his lips. At least the ache in his smokebox and the boiler-ache had gone.

“Thomas?” a kind masculine voice said.

“Is he waking up?” another man asked.

“I think so. Can you go and let the manager know? I’ll stay with him, so he doesn’t panic.”

Annoyed by the talking, Thomas slowly blinked open his eyes. Sure enough, he was still inside the Works, parked over an inspection pit. A workman was leaning his elbows on Thomas’ front running board. He smiled when he saw Thomas open his eyes.

“It’s good to have you back with us, Thomas,” the man said.

“How long have I been asleep?” Thomas wondered.

“About six days. The good news is that we’ve given your tanks and boiler a thorough wash out, so you should be feeling better now.”

“I am, thank you,” Thomas replied meekly. He saw the Works Manager, Mr Greenwood, approaching, along with another workman.

“I’m glad to hear it,” Mr Greenwood smiled. “And aside from cleaning you out, we replaced a few of your parts that were starting to get a bit old and worn out. The biggest part we replaced was your handbrake. The thread on your old one was so badly worn that I’m amazed it was still able to hold you! Anyway, now that you’re awake, we can do a test run.”

“When can I go home?” Thomas asked.

“Hopefully tomorrow, provided you pass all your tests this afternoon. I’ll let these two clowns light your fire and get you ready.”

Another worker hurried over to them. “Mr Greenwood? Mr Hatt is on the phone. He wants to talk to you, urgently.”

“Everything’s urgent as far as he’s concerned,” Mr Greenwood muttered as he made his way back to his office.

Thomas smiled to himself. Sometimes he just enjoyed listening to the people around him talking. There was so much about their lives that were a real mystery to all locomotives, so he often learnt a lot whenever he listened to their conversations.

While the two workmen were oiling up his motion gear and lighting his fire, Thomas looked around the Works. Overhead, a large gantry crane was being moved towards the back of the large open-plan brick shed. Through the open shed doors, Thomas could see the Works’ Diesel sunbathing peacefully in the yard, while over at Crovan’s Gate Station passengers were starting to arrive for the next scheduled service. The silence made Thomas wonder if he was alone inside the Works, but then he heard someone cough behind him.

“Who’s there?” Thomas called.

“It’s Bear,” the engine replied. “I’m glad you’re awake at last, Thomas. I’ve been a bit lonely.”

Thomas didn’t know Bear very well, but from what he’d heard from the other engines, Bear was a nice Diesel, like Boco.

“Have you been sick too?” Thomas asked.

Bear coughed again. “You could say that. The men think I got some water mixed in with my fuel yesterday, so they’re draining my fuel tank now. What about you?”

“Ironically, I had something very similar. I took on bad water.”

“Ah! Yes, it happens to all of us,” Bear sympathised. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

“Me too. I hope you feel better again soon too. And I hope Duck’s being kind to Annie and Clarabel…”

“Duck’s a kind engine,” Bear replied. “He wouldn’t do anything to hurt your coaches. Everyone knows that you’d be lost without them.”

Thomas chuckled. “Maybe I am a bit possessive of them and my branch line, but I know I’m very lucky to have them.” He fell silent as his thoughts moved to his younger days, before he’d arrived on Sodor. He’d seen some things; horrible things, that no engine should ever have to see. For seventy years, he’d tried to block out those images, but they were forever stamped in his memory, ready to haunt him whenever he was feeling down.

“We’re all lucky to be here, Thomas,” Bear agreed. “I know it’s been bad for you steam engines over on the mainland, but they’ve started scrapping diesels over there too now.”

“I know,” Thomas said quietly. “I just wish that…at least one of my siblings could have been saved… I even had…a twin…”

Bear fell silent for a moment. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, so softly that Thomas almost didn’t hear him.

“It’s not your fault,” Thomas pointed out.

“No, I meant, I’m sorry the conversation went in that direction. Why don’t we talk about something much more positive? Tell me about your branch line, and what’s been happening on it? I’m sure you must have some interesting stories to tell.”

“Oh, don’t get him started on that, Bear!” the worker who was oiling Thomas’ motion gear exclaimed with dismay. “That’s all Thomas ever talks about, isn’t it, Thomas?”

“I don’t have much else to talk about,” Thomas admitted. “It’s not like I get a chance to go anywhere outside my branch line. Although, I did just before I fell ill. I was doing Percy’s work while he was here being repaired, so I got to travel to Wellsworth. Having my own branch line is much better than being a station pilot though.”

The conversation was interrupted by the sound of an approaching whistle. Thomas immediately recognised that it was James, arriving at Crovan’s Gate to pick up his passengers. Thomas watched as James steamed grandly into the station platform, braking slowly to ensure the waiting passengers got a good look at him. Thomas sighed wistfully.

At least it won’t be long before I’ll be back on my branch line.

After a couple of hours, Thomas had raised enough steam for his test run to begin. Under Mr Greenwood’s direction, the two workmen who’d been looking after Thomas drove him up and down the Works yard. Every now and again, Thomas saw Mr Greenwood making notes on his clipboard. That worried Thomas a little because he was really keen to go home now that he was feeling better.

The tests on Thomas had almost been completed when Gordon’s whistle sounded in the distance. Thomas groaned. He wasn’t too keen on seeing Gordan again, considering how much they’d teased each other while Thomas had been ill.

“Are you finished yet?” Thomas asked Mr Greenwood impatiently.

“I’ll let you know when I’m finished,” Mr Greenwood replied. He shook his head and chuckled. “You’re never going to learn patience, are you?”

“Probably not,” Thomas admitted.  

Gordon steamed into Crovan’s Gate with the express. To Thomas’ relief, Gordon didn’t seem to notice him. Instead, Gordon spent his time at the station berating one of the Skarloey Railway engines. Thomas was too far away to see which Skarloey engine Gordon was talking to.

Mr Greenwood walked all around Thomas, carefully examining his visible steam pipes, and looking for any potential steam leaks. When he was done, he gestured for the workmen to drive Thomas back inside the Works shed. Once Thomas was back inside, the worker who’d been acting as Thomas’ fireman applied the handbrake.

“The handbrake is a bit…stiff…” the worker grunted as he secured the handbrake.

“That’s just because it’s new,” Mr Greenwood said as he peeked inside the cab from ground level. “It’ll loosen up as it’s used. Anyway, I’m satisfied that Thomas is now fit to return to service. I’ll just go and inform Mr Hatt. Leave a warming fire inside Thomas. I expect his crew will come and collect him either later tonight or early in the morning.”

Thomas breathed a sigh of relief as Mr Greenwood headed towards his office. He really couldn’t wait to get home to his branch line. The only thing he wasn’t looking forward to was seeing Percy again.

He’s probably glad that I got sick. Well, I’ll find a way to pay him out… 

…

In the pre-dawn light the following morning, Thomas steamed along the mainline heading towards Knapford. Michael and Simon were in his cab, and they were very pleased to have Thomas back with them.

Near Maron, Thomas whistled cheerfully when he saw Henry approaching him from the opposite direction with the Flying Kipper.

“Good morning, Henry!” Thomas called.

“Morning, Thomas!” Henry called, whistling as the two engines passed each other. “Glad to see you’re better!”

Thomas, eager to get home, increased his speed slightly. Michael noticed, and he gently closed Thomas’ regulator a fraction.

“Steady, Thomas,” Michael soothed. “I know you’re anxious to get home, but there’s no need to rush. Your first train isn’t due to leave for at least three hours.”

About forty minutes later, Thomas steamed into the Ffarquhar yard. Daisy, Percy, Toby, and Duck were still fast asleep. The only movement in the yard came from the firelighters and engine cleaners who had only just arrived for work.

“Take me over to the carriage shed, please,” Thomas whispered to his crew. “I’d like to talk to Annie and Clarabel.”

Michael obliged. Once Thomas had been parked in front of the carriage shed, directly in front of Annie, his crew left to go and fetch some breakfast. Annie and Clarabel were coupled back to back, facing away from each other.   

“Annie? Clarabel?” Thomas called. “I’m back!”

Annie slowly blinked open her eyes. “Thomas! Oh, it’s wonderful to see you again! Are you feeling better now?”

“Much better,” Thomas replied. “The men at the Works looked after me really well. So, what’s been happening? Has Duck been taking good care of you?”

Clarabel yawned as she woke up. “Oh, Thomas! When did you get back?”

“Just a few minutes ago.”

“He wants to know how well Duck managed us,” Annie explained. “I was just about to tell him that he was wonderful with us.”

“Oh, yes!” Clarabel agreed. “Duck has such nice manners. But I’d expect that from a Great Western engine.”

“I quite agree,” Annie added. “He treated us with so much respect. I wish we could go out with him more often.”

Thomas drew in a deep breath. It was hard for him to hear his beloved coaches wishing that they could replace him with another engine. It made him feel both sad and jealous. But then, he remembered what Bear had said.   

“Duck’s a kind engine. He wouldn’t do anything to hurt your coaches. Everyone knows that you’d be lost without them.”

Thomas forced a smile. “I’m very grateful to Duck for taking such good care of you both. But I’m back now, and I’m anxious to get back to our usual routine.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Thomas saw his crew returning. They were carrying a couple of small paper bags containing pastries, and two cups of a hot beverage.

“Looks like Michael and Simon are back,” Thomas continued. “I’ll have to remember to thank Duck when I see…oh!”

Thomas gasped as he felt his wheels starting to turn on their own. He inched forwards, letting off steam in alarm.

“Thomas!” Michael shouted. He thrust the paper bags at Simon, before running over to Thomas.

Thomas’ buffers had just touched Annie’s as Michael skilfully leapt into the cab. Michael went to tighten the handbrake, only to find that it was already on. Or at least, he thought it was. Michael gave the handbrake wheel a hard shove. To his surprise, it moved just enough for Thomas’ brakes to fully engage. By the time Thomas finally stopped, he’d pushed Annie and Clarabel backwards by a couple of feet.

“I say, Thomas!” Clarabel exclaimed. “Was that really necessary?”

“I’m sorry!” Thomas gasped. “I…I don’t know what happened…”

Michael took Thomas’ logbook down from its holder near the roof of Thomas’ cab. He opened it to the most recently written on page.

“Simon?” Michael called.

Simon carefully placed their breakfast down on a nearby crate before he joined Michael inside the cab. Michael pointed to the last entry on the page.

“We should’ve checked this before we left the Works. They’ve made a note that Thomas’ handbrake was replaced, so it’ll be a bit stiff for a while.”

“Luckily, no damage was done,” Simon said, breathing a sigh of relief. “Let’s get him over to the shed, and I’ll try and lubricate it with some hot oil.”

Michael put the logbook away and he leaned out of the cab. “Sorry, Thomas. That was partially our fault. Are you okay?”

“Yes,” Thomas replied, shakily. “It was my fault too. I forgot to tell you that they’d replaced my handbrake. I was just so excited to come home.”

Michael drove Thomas back over to the engine shed. Daisy was still asleep, but Duck, Percy and Toby were just beginning to wake up.

“Oh! Thomas! You’re back!” Toby said.

“When did you arrive?” Duck asked.

“Only about half an hour ago,” Thomas replied. “I’ve been talking to Annie and Clarabel. Thank you so much for taking care of them for me while I was ill.”

“My pleasure. They’re lovely coaches. And it’s good to see you looking so well again. Your passengers have really missed you.”

“And I’ve missed them,” Thomas concurred. “I’ve missed everyone so much! Well, almost everyone,” he added, glaring pointedly at Percy. Percy wisely chose to ignore him.

While they were talking, Simon had, after ensuring that Thomas’ brakes were completely secured, crawled underneath Thomas’ cab to apply some hot oil to the main shaft of the handbrake. Thomas giggled when he felt the oil being applied.

“Hey, that tickles!”

“Sorry,” Simon apologised after crawling back out. “Hopefully, that’ll do the trick.”   

“Problem?” Toby asked Thomas innocently.

“Just a minor issue with my handbrake,” Thomas explained. “Nothing serious.”

Percy snorted. “Pity. I’d love to see you wander off to have breakfast with the Stationmaster again!” Percy laughed at his own wit, but nobody else joined in.

“He doesn’t really mean that,” Duck told Thomas.

“Yes, he does,” Thomas retorted.

Toby rolled his eyes. “Can’t you two just apologise and be friends again?”

“No!” Thomas and Percy snapped in unison.

“Guess that makes it unanimous,” Duck mused.

A familiar blue car drove into the yard, parking near the shed. The engines immediately fell silent as the Fat Controller got out.

“Welcome back, Thomas!” the Fat Controller said. “I’m glad to see you looking better.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Now that Thomas is back, I hope things around here can finally get back to normal,” the Fat Controller continued. “Duck? I need you to return to the Little Western, please.”

“Yes, sir. Of course, sir.” Duck looked at Toby and Percy. “Thank you for making me feel so welcome. I hope that I’ll be able to come back the next time you need some help.”

“I hope so, too,” Percy replied. “I’m really going to miss you.”

“We’ll still see each other around,” Duck reminded him.

“I know. But it’s not the same.”

After Duck had gone, the Fat Controller sent Percy and Toby to work, leaving him alone with Thomas.

“I don’t want you to push yourself today, Thomas,” the Fat Controller said firmly. “I know how exhausting the Works can be for engines, so please don’t stress or try to make up for lost time if you’re running a few minutes late.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“And now,” the Fat Controller softened, “Would you please explain to me what’s going on between yourself and Percy?”

Thomas fell silent. While the engines did have a close working relationship with the people who looked after them, there were just some things that the people didn’t need to be involved in.

The Fat Controller sighed. “I see… It’s one of those types of arguments, is it? Very well. I’ll leave it to you engines to sort it out between yourselves… For now. But don’t let your fighting interfere with your work.”

“I won’t, sir,” Thomas promised.

The Fat Controller went to speak to Michael and Simon, who were just finishing up preparing Thomas for work.

“Do you two know anything about what’s going on between Thomas and Percy?” he whispered, hoping that Thomas wasn’t paying enough attention to hear him.

“I’m afraid it’s a matter of tit-for-tat, sir,” Simon replied. “I’m sure they’ll get over it before long. They always do. One way or another.”

The Fat Controller nodded before returning to his car. He hoped that Simon was correct. After all, harmony between his engines was the foundation stone of the smooth running of his railway. They didn’t have to be friends, but disagreements brought on low morale, and that was the last thing he needed.

…

Later that evening, Stephan Hatt arrived at Topham Hall to join his family for their weekly family dinner. Stephan met with his father, Charles the former Fat Controller, in the library. Charles was just putting a book back on one of the shelves as Stephan sank into one of the armchairs with a weary sigh.

“Rough day?” Charles asked. He poured two glasses of whisky, and he handed one of them to Stephan. Stephan drank a sip before he replied.

“Honestly, I have no idea how you managed to do this job for thirty years. I’ve only been doing it for two years, and I’m already mentally exhausted.”

Charles chuckled as he sat down opposite his son. “It does become easier. I suppose I was lucky that I was involved in the Golden Age of steam. Sadly, I also had to deal with its decline. Doctor Beeching was a formidable force, let me tell you!”

“People are easier to deal with than sentient machines,” Stephan pointed out.

Charles leaned forwards, holding his glass of whisky in both hands. “What’s happened? I haven’t heard of any accidents happening this week.”

Stephan chuckled. “No, it’s nothing as serious as that. What did you do whenever the engines started fighting amongst themselves?”

“Ah!” Charles leaned back again. “That’s easy. Unless they’re at risk of causing harm to themselves or others, you let them sort it out on their own.”

“That’s what Thomas’ fireman said too…”

Charles laughed loudly. “Let me guess? Percy’s also involved?”

Stephan nodded.

“Then you definitely need to leave them alone. I saw Thomas in the Works when I drove past the other day. What was he in there for?”

“He was sick. Took on some bad water at Toryreck. I’ve had the water tower flushed and cleaned.”

Charles nodded sympathetically. “Poor Thomas. That’s one advantage we have over machines. We can throw up; they can’t.”

“He’s much better now,” Stephan reassured his father.

Having finished his whisky, Charles put the empty glass down on the small round table next to his armchair.

“How long have Thomas and Percy been fighting for this time?”

“I’m not sure. I only found out about it after talking to the Ffarquhar yard manager the other day.”

“I see… Do you know who started it?”

“No, but I have a strong feeling that it was Thomas.”

Charles nodded. “I’d put all my money on that. What about Toby? Do you think he’s able to do anything?”

Stephan shrugged. “All I know is that he’s swapped berths with Percy to keep him and Thomas separated long enough for all of them to be able to sleep.”

Charles smiled. “Good ol’ Toby! I do feel sorry for him though, being caught in the middle again.”  

“I don’t suppose…you could intervene? I know Thomas and Percy will listen to you. They still respect you more than they do me.”

“Honestly, I don’t think my presence would make any difference. But, I could pop into the yard to analyse the situation for myself, if that’s what you want.”

“I’d really appreciate that. Thanks, father.”

“Anytime.”

Stephan finished his whiskey just as the butler entered the room.

“Excuse me, Sir. Dinner is served.”

“I suppose we’d better join the rest of the family,” Charles said as he and Stephan stood up. “Are they all here?”

“Everyone except your cousin, Sir Handel Brown and Lady Rachael,” the butler answered. “They send their apologies.”

“No doubt Handel had something come up at the Skarloey Railway,” Charles said, placing a hand on his son’s shoulder. “Let’s just have a nice, quiet family dinner. We can worry about the engines tomorrow.”

Stephan quietly agreed.

Chapter Text

Chapter 4 - The Runaway – Part 3

One morning, Thomas was slow to wake up. That was fairly normal for him, but it wasn’t his fault. His design sometimes made it difficult for him to raise steam; especially on cold, frosty mornings like this one. Even worse, Simon didn’t arrive to ensure Thomas was awake and in steam before Michael arrived to start work.

By the time Michael did arrive, Thomas’ fire had dropped down to little more than embers. And Thomas was still asleep. Sighing, Michael set to work adding more coal to Thomas’ fire. While he was shovelling, the yard manager arrived.

“Sorry, Michael,” the yard manager said as he leaned inside Thomas’ cab. He rested his forearms on the cab floor. “I’ve just had a call from Simon’s wife. I’m afraid he’s sick this morning. He wants to come, but his wife won’t let him.”

Michael laughed. “That sounds like Simon all right!”

“Well, anyway, I just thought you should know. I’ve organised for a relief fireman to come from the Works, but he won’t be here for at least half an hour.”

“That’s okay. As long as he does show up. I’ll keep getting Thomas ready in the meantime. We’re not due out for another hour anyway.”

The yard manager nodded before turning his attention to Percy’s crew.

“Come on, Thomas,” Michael called as he watched the steam pressure gauge rising painfully slowly. “It’s time to wake up.”

But Thomas remained asleep. Michael set to work oiling Thomas’ motion gear. By the time he’d finished, the relief fireman had arrived.

“Sorry I’m late!” the fireman gushed as he hurried into the shed. “Got stuck in peak-hour traffic in Ulfstead.”

“Don’t stress,” Michael replied. “I’ve just finished oiling up. If you can wake Thomas up, we can get going.”

The relief fireman climbed inside Thomas’ cab. Seeing that the steam pressure gauge was only sitting around fifty psi, he set to work building up Thomas’ fire. He had to take care not to accidentally smother the few flames that were visible.

Thomas finally started to wake up. He yawned sleepily.

“Come on, sleepyhead,” Michael called, patting Thomas’ side, just below his number one. “It’s time to get to work, or we’ll be late.”

Thomas reluctantly opened his eyes. He was surprised to see that he was alone in the shed. Percy and Toby had already left to start their work for the day.

“What’s going on?”

Michael stepped into Thomas’ field of vision. “I’m afraid Simon is sick this morning, Thomas, so we’ve got a relief fireman for the day. Please, do your best and try not to make things hard for him.”

Thomas merely yawned in response. Michael shook his head before he climbed into the cab.

“Let’s get going,” he said to the fireman. “He’ll wake up completely once we’re moving.”

Despite Thomas still being half asleep, Michael drove him over to the carriage shed to collect Annie and Clarabel. However, while the fireman was coupling the train together, he found something.

“Michael? I think the auto train system is damaged.”

Standing on the running board and hanging onto Thomas’ bunker railing, Michael took a look down into the gap between Thomas and Annie. While the chain link coupling was secured, the auto train system and brake pipe were still disconnected. The fireman showed Michael the auto train connection, which was indeed damaged. It looked like something solid had struck one of the valves, denting it beyond use.

“Terrific!” Michael muttered sarcastically. “We don’t have time to try and fix it now. We’ll have to shunt the coaches over to the platform, and then run Thomas around to the front, so we can run him from the front of the train in reverse. Just finish connecting the vacuum brake, so we can shunt. Oh, and while I think about it, Thomas has a stiff handbrake. You’ll need to check that the brake blocks are fully secured before you leave him unattended.” 

“Noted. That’s what I like about tank engines,” the fireman said as he hooked up the brake pipes. “They’re so versatile.”

“Shh!” Michael hissed. “Don’t let Thomas hear you say things like that! He thinks too much of himself already.”     

Luckily, Thomas was still too sleepy to take any notice. In fact, he didn’t wake up properly until after they’d departed Ffarquhar. He was surprised to find himself running in reverse while facing Clarabel.

“What…?” Thomas stared at Clarabel, dazed.

Annie and Clarabel giggled.

“Wakey-wakey, sleepyhead!” Clarabel teased. “The auto train system is broken again, which is why you’re running in reverse. Oh, and Simon is sick, so you’ve got a relief fireman today.”

“Oh. I see… Guess that explains why I’m still so tired…”

Like all steam engines, Thomas needed to have his fire made up in a certain way for optimum steaming. It took a lot of skill and finesse for firemen to master their own engine, so when they were suddenly given a new engine to work with, it might take a while for them to understand how their new engine liked to be fired.

As they steamed towards Knapford, Michael watched as the relief fireman shovelled the coal. At first, he didn’t say anything, but he couldn’t stay quiet forever. He needed steam to keep Thomas and the coaches moving at a reasonable speed, so he could at least offer some advice.

“Thomas steams best with a flat fire bed,” Michael explained. “You can bank it up a little bit at the sides, especially when we’re stopped at stations, but he doesn’t like having big piles of coal in his firebox.”

“I wish you’d told me that sooner,” the fireman grumbled. “In other words, he likes to be fed small amounts, often?”

Michael chuckled. “You could say that. Keep a lookout for a moment.”

The fireman leaned out of the cab to keep watch of the track as Michael turned around to face Thomas’ controls. Seeing that Thomas was starting to get a little bit low on water, he opened the fireman’s injector. At first, nothing happened, so he tried again.

“Come on, Thomas,” Michael muttered with frustration. “Stop mucking around and just work with me, please.”

Finally, the injector received enough steam to enable it to operate. They continued onto Knapford without any further issues.

Upon arriving at Knapford, a shunter uncoupled Thomas. Michael drove him around to the front of the train and the shunter coupled Thomas up in front of Annie. Seeing the Stationmaster striking up a conversation with the guard, Michael went to join them, leaving the fireman to attend to Thomas.

The fireman set Thomas’s handbrake on while the shunter hooked up the brake pipe between Thomas and Annie. The fireman then set the vacuum brake lever in the cab to ‘release’, expelling all the air from the brakes, effectively taking the brakes off Annie and Clarabel. This was necessary to ensure that the vacuum brakes were properly connected. However, before he could move the lever back to the ‘brake’ position, Michael called him over onto the platform. The fireman hesitated, but thinking that since Thomas’ handbrake was on, it’d be all right until he got back. After all, Knapford was on flat ground, so Thomas wasn’t going to roll anywhere in a hurry.

What the fireman hadn’t realised was that, by now, Thomas was fully awake having built up plenty of steam. His fire was burning nicely and there was plenty of coal in his firebox.

Over on Platform One, the Stationmaster emerged from his office, trusty old pocket watch in hand. He looked at it, frowning sternly. Thomas wasn’t put off by that. He knew he wasn’t late. In fact, it was Henry who was late, and since Thomas was a guaranteed connection, he couldn’t leave until after Henry arrived.

Finally, Thomas saw Henry appear in the distance from around a curve. He smiled when Henry whistled.

Not long now…

At that moment, Thomas felt his pistons, which were full of steam, start to move. Before he could register what was happening, his wheels started to turn as well, and he began to move forwards. Alarmed, Thomas tried to stop himself, but he couldn’t on his own. Since his crew were down at the other end of the platform near Clarabel, Thomas tried to whistle to get their attention, but again, he needed his crew to do that.

It was the guard who was the first to notice that Thomas was moving on his own. He shouted with alarm, but it was too late. Thomas was already steaming out of the station.

Luckily, the signalman saw what was happening. He quickly slammed the emergency stop, which set all the semaphore signals to danger. Henry, who’d been about to enter the section, slammed on his brakes as Thomas steamed past him, building up speed.

“Help!” Thomas wailed as he rumbled over the points leading back onto his branch line. Annie and Clarabel screamed as Thomas went, much too fast, around the curve at the start of the branch line.

Inside the signal box, the signalman was already on the phone. At the same time, he rang bells, telegraphing the news of the runaway up the branch line. Within minutes, he’d mobilised Mr Collins, who’d happened to be at Dryaw Station, alerting him to what was happening. While the Dryaw Stationmaster contacted the airfield next to the station, asking for Harold to be placed on standby, Mr Collins hurried onto the platform. He hoped he could stop Thomas quickly.

However, to Mr Collin’s dismay, Thomas approached Dryaw station much too fast. Before Thomas had even cleared the station, Mr Collins ran over to the airfield, and he boarded Harold. Harold took off as quickly as he could.

“I must get there in time, I must,” Harold muttered anxiously to himself. He didn’t want to see anyone get hurt, especially one of his friends.

As Harold flew over the railway line, Mr Collins looked out of the window. Below, he could see that Thomas had started to slow down.

“Land at Toryreck,” Mr Collins instructed the pilot. “I’ll try and stop him there.”

The pilot nodded and he flew Harold on up the line.

Thomas was starting to run out of steam. He also desperately needed a drink.

“I need to stop. I need to stop,” he panted as he started to climb the grade into Toryreck.

Annie and Clarabel did their best to hold back as Thomas slowly climbed the grade. As Thomas crested the hill, he saw Harold land next to the station. He saw someone run from Harold onto the station platform. The man stood ready, waiting for Thomas to enter the platform.

As he drew closer, Thomas recognised the man. It was Mr Collins. He immediately felt reassured that he would be okay.

“Help…me…” Thomas gasped as he drew alongside Mr Collins.

Mr Collins started running alongside Thomas. Judging his moment, he grabbed hold of Thomas’ handrails, using them to pull himself up and inside Thomas’ cab. Seeing that Thomas’ vacuum brake was not engaged, he quickly slammed it closed. With a loud screech, the trains’ brakes engaged, and they came to a stop just beyond the end of the platform.

Thomas breathed a huge sigh of relief when he felt himself finally come to a stop. Inside his cab, Mr Collin mopped his forehead with his handkerchief.

“Phew! That was too close!”

“Yes…” Thomas agreed. He shivered, thinking about what could have happened if Mr Collins hadn’t stopped him.

Seeing that Thomas was running low on water, Mr Collins turned on the fireman’s injector. Thomas gratefully accepted the drink.

At that moment, the Knapford Stationmaster’s car raced into the station parking lot. Thomas’ crew leapt out, followed by the guard.

“Oh, thank goodness!” Michael exclaimed as he hurried over. He probably would’ve hugged Thomas if he could. “Are you all right, Thomas?”

Thomas tried to speak, but instead he started to cry. Mr Collins climbed out of the cab, and he patted Thomas’ side in sympathy.

“He seems to be pretty badly shaken, I’m afraid. It’s all right, Thomas. You’re safe now. But how did it happen?”

“I’m afraid it was my fault,” the fireman admitted. “I forgot about Thomas’ handbrake being stiff. And I left the vacuum brake off. I thought the handbrake would be enough to hold the train.”

“I guess I’m equally to blame then,” Michael added. “I should’ve kept a closer eye on what he was doing, and ensured the brakes were firmly on before I started chatting.” He climbed up onto Thomas’ running board and, using his handkerchief, he tenderly wiped the tears from Thomas’ eyes. “I’m so sorry, Thomas.”

“It’s okay,” Thomas whimpered. “I just got scared. Thanks.”

“What should we do now?” the guard wondered.

“We’ll take Thomas back to Knapford and continue with our schedule,” Michael answered firmly.

The fireman gestured at Thomas. “But… Do you think he’ll be okay? He does look very badly shaken to me.”

“Michael’s right,” Mr Collins agreed. “We can’t let Thomas have a rest, since there’s nothing mechanically wrong with him. He’ll recover from the shock faster if he’s not left to dwell on what could have happened. It’s like getting back on a horse after you’ve fallen off. I’ll go and organise everything with the signalman.”

It didn’t take long for the signalman at Toryreck to organise Thomas’ return to Knapford. Mr Collins joined Thomas’ crew in the cab for a ride back to Dryaw, so he could collect his car. He also wanted to ensure that Thomas was actually uninjured.

Mr Collins was right about one thing at least. By the time Thomas had returned to Knapford, he’d mostly recovered from the shock. This time, Michael, and the fireman both triple-checked that Thomas’ vacuum and handbrakes were both completely on hard. While they waited for the disgruntled but somewhat understanding passengers to board, Gordon steamed in with the express. He was very surprised to see Thomas still at the station.  

“You’re running very late, aren’t you, Thomas?” Gordon asked as he slowed to a stop at the platform. “I don’t normally see you until evening rush hour.”

“I had a little…incident,” Thomas explained. He knew that Gordon would find out what happened to him sooner or later, but he wanted it to be later. Much later, if at all possible.

At that moment, the Stationmaster, who’d driven back to Knapford before Thomas had made it back, made an announcement over the P.A. system. “Could all passengers for the ten-fifteen train to Ffarquhar please make your way over to platform one? We apologise for the late running of this service, due to unforeseen circumstances.”

“Unforeseen circumstances?” Gordon snorted. “Whatever next? Don’t tell me you had to have another boiler flush, Thomas?”

“No, I didn’t!” Thomas snapped. “And,” he added cheekily, “I think you’re running late now too, Gordon.”

Thomas’ guard blew his whistle and Thomas departed with his passengers before Gordon could figure out that Thomas had tricked him and that he wasn’t running late at all.

…

Later in the shed that evening, some fitters from the Works arrived to examine Thomas’ handbrake and repair the damaged auto train coupling on Annie. While the men worked on Thomas, having chocked his wheels first, Percy did everything he could to tease Thomas about his unfortunate misadventure.   

“You seem to really enjoy going places without your driver, Thomas. Just think, if you’d made it all the way here, you could’ve had lunch with the Stationmaster this time, since you’ve already had breakfast with him.”

Thomas let off steam crossly. “At least I didn’t end up perched on top of a brake-van like you did!”

Percy scoffed. “That could’ve happened to anyone, as you well know! And I’ve never fallen down a mine like some arrogant blue engine that I unfortunately know.”

“You imp!” Thomas snapped. “At least falling into a mine is better than falling into the sea!”

“Hardly!” Percy retorted. “Face it, Thomas. You’re just a conceited, spoilt little…”

The rest of what Percy said was drowned out by the loud wail of Thomas’ safety valve going off. The men blocked their ears and started shouting inaudibly at each other. One of the fitters climbed into the cab, and he furiously opened the injector. Thomas’ safety valve closed just as the Sir Charles Topham Hatt drove into the yard. However, nobody seemed to notice his arrived. Thomas certainly didn’t.

“I HATE you, Percy!” Thomas shouted. “I wish you’d just go away forever!”

“You don’t really mean that, Thomas,” Toby said quietly. He felt very uncomfortable standing between the feuding engines.

“Oh, yes I do!” Thomas retorted. “He’s nothing to me now!”

Sir Charles slammed the door of his car closed so loudly that the yard immediately fell silent. He stormed over to the shed.

“I thought I’d drop by this evening to visit, but I feel like I’ve just arrived in a warzone! What is going on here? Why are you all shouting?”

Toby let out a longsuffering sigh. “I’m afraid they’ve been at each other’s funnels for weeks, sir. Thomas blames Percy for laughing at him when he got buried in coal, and Percy blames Thomas for laughing at him when his brakes failed. Since then, they’ve been constantly paying the other back.”

“I see! Thank you, Toby. I don’t want to interfere, but I think this quarrel has gone quite far enough. Thomas? Percy? Are you both prepared to apologise to each other?”

“NO!” Thomas and Percy retorted in unison.

If Toby could shrug, he would have. Sir Charles exhaled sadly.

“I’m sorry you two have fallen out over something as silly as laughing at each other. It is rather pathetic and immature though.”

“I’m willing to apologise if Thomas says sorry first,” Percy said.

“Why should I?” Thomas seethed. “You started this! You need to apologise to me first!”

“You could both apologise at the same time?” Toby suggested.

“No way!” Thomas snapped. “He has to apologise to me first!”

“Just because you’re painted number one, it doesn’t make you any better than the rest of us,” Percy huffed.

“Yes, it does!”

“It most certainly does not!” Sir Charles snapped. He pointed directly at Thomas. “The only reason you have that number is because you were the first engine my father purchased for the railway! It does not entitle you to belittle any of the other engines! I’m very disappointed in you, Thomas.”

Thomas gulped. Hearing a controller, especially a former controller, say that he’s disappointed in you was one of the worst things for an engine to hear. It was the highest level of scolding before being properly punished.

Just then, Thomas felt one of the fitters slam part of his handbrake with a hammer.

“Ouch!” Thomas yelped. He closed his eyes tightly against the sudden pain. 

“Got it!” the fitter shouted triumphantly. He held up a metal cog. “That explains why Thomas’ handbrake has been so stiff. This cog was installed upside-down!”

Sir Charles stared at the fitter in surprise. “I guess that’s enough to make any engine cranky! But that doesn’t excuse your behaviour, Thomas. Or you, Percy. If there are any further disturbances, I shall be advising my son to punish you both severely.”

And with that, Sir Charles turned on his heels and sternly strolled back to his car.  

Chapter Text

Chapter 5 – Better Late than Never

For the next couple of days, Thomas and Percy wisely kept to themselves, to the point where they didn’t even talk to each other, even in greeting.   

Since Simon was still ill, the relief fireman continued to work with Thomas and Michael. The fireman did his best, but he didn’t click with Thomas the way Simon did. Thomas ended up taking out his frustrations on Gordon, Henry, and James, whenever he saw them at Knapford. He felt he had good reason to be cross with them.

For the past few months, the viaduct on the mainline had been undergoing repairs. At first, the work didn’t cause any disruptions to services, but as the work moved onto structural rather than just cosmetic repairs, a strict speed limit was imposed. Unfortunately, this delayed many trains. Passenger services were badly affected, but at least most of the passengers were understanding. Unfortunately, not all of the engines were. Thomas quickly became the loudest complainer.

“Time’s time,” Thomas grumbled crossly to himself one day just as Henry arrived at Knapford five minutes late with his all-stations service. “Why should I keep my passengers waiting, while Henry and James dawdle about all day on viaducts?”

“Don’t blame me!” Henry snorted. “If we hurried across the viaduct it might collapse, and then you’d have no passengers at all. What would you do then, eh?”

“Run my trains on time for one thing,” Thomas retorted just as his guard blew his whistle. Thomas quickly steamed away before Henry could think of anything else to say.

“Thomas, you mustn’t be so rude to Henry!” Annie admonished. “I’m sure he’s doing his best.”

“It’s not good enough,” Thomas snapped. “Now I have to try and make up for lost time. I hate it when Bertie beats me to Ffarquhar.”

In truth, Bertie’s schedule was arranged so that he would arrive at Ffarquhar one minute after Thomas arrived. That enabled his passengers the board Annie and Clarabel while Thomas was getting his water tanks refilled. Unfortunately, whenever Thomas was late, the passengers wouldn’t have as much time to purchase their tickets and board the train before Thomas was scheduled to depart. This meant that everyone was left frazzled and rushing.

As Thomas had predicted, Bertie was already at Ffarquhar by the time Thomas steamed in, ten minutes late.

“Late again.”

Thomas scowled when he heard Bertie. He let his brakes screech loudly as he came to a stop at the platform. But before Thomas could reply, Bertie continued.

“I thought you could go fast, Thomas. It’s time we had another race. I reckon I could beat you now.”

Deeply insulted, Thomas’ steam pressure shot up and he let off steam with a terribly loud hiss.

“Rubbish! I’d still beat you any day. It’s those main line engines. They dither about on their viaduct and then blame the Fat Controller’s workmen. It’s just an excuse for laziness, if you ask me.”

“We didn’t ask you, Thomas,” Michael told him sternly from the cab. “There’s nothing we can do about it, so just stop complaining, all right? Nobody’s going to get into trouble for being late while the viaduct is being repaired.”

“I know,” Thomas sighed as Bertie drove away. “I just hate being late.”

“We all hate being late, Thomas,” Annie put in.

“But sometimes, it can’t be avoided,” Clarabel added.

Thomas sighed wearily. He felt Michael pat the side of his cab fondly.

“Better late than never, Thomas,” Michael soothed. “Remember that.”

…

“Thomas?” a familiar voice called to him early the following morning. “It’s time to wake up.”

“Five more minutes…” Thomas muttered sleepily, keeping his eyes closed.

“I know how to wake him up,” someone else said. It was one of the engine cleaners. 

Before anyone could react, the cleaner tossed a bucket full of cold water at Thomas’ face. Poor Thomas awoke with a startled gasp.

“About time!” the cleaner grumbled as he climbed up onto Thomas’ running board. “I need to clean your face, Thomas, and I can’t do that while you’re asleep.”

Thomas huffed crossly. “Just don’t get any soap in my eyes this time.”

Most of the engines hated having their faces touched, but they needed to be cleaned at least twice a week to keep the engines healthy. Dirt, dust, and other grime could eventually make them ill, and sometimes water just wasn’t enough. While most engines tolerated having the cleaners wash their faces, some of the more sensitive ones, like James, would only let their driver and fireman touch their faces.

“I see you’re bright and cheerful as always, Thomas,” the man who’d first spoken remarked.

Thomas looked down to his left. He smiled broadly when he saw Simon leaning casually against the shed doorframe.

“Simon! You’re back!”

Simon chuckled. “It’s about time you noticed! Yes, I am back.”

“Are you feeling better?” Thomas ventured to ask.

“Much better. And I hope you are too. I heard about your runaway.”

Thomas’ cheeks flushed from embarrassment. Just then, the cleaner set to work, lathering some cold, soapy water onto Thomas’ forehead with a sponge. Thomas quickly closed his eyes to try and prevent soap getting into them. The cleaner took the opportunity to gently brush the sleepy dust out of the corners of Thomas’ eyes.

While Thomas was having his face cleaned, Simon climbed inside his cab to attend to Thomas’ fire. He added some coal to the flames before making some small adjustments to the controls. Simon then took down Thomas’ logbook, so he could catch up on what he’d missed while he’d been away sick.  

It only took the cleaner a few minutes for the cleaner to finish washing Thomas’ face. He then moved on to do Toby. 

“I see you’ve been late a lot recently, Thomas,” Simon commented from inside the cab.

Thomas snorted. “It’s not my fault! It’s those stupid mainline engines! They’re always late, and so they make me late.”

Simon returned Thomas’ logbook to its holder. “I know about the viaduct. It’s nobody’s fault really. There are some things that are out of our control.”

“That’s what Michael said yesterday,” Thomas muttered.  

“Argh!” Percy suddenly squealed. “That’s cold!”

Glancing to his right, Thomas saw that the engine cleaner had just started washing Percy’s face. The small green engine had screwed his face up tightly, clearly not enjoying the experience. Unable to think up a witty remark quickly enough, Thomas held his tongue.

…

Later that day, just before noon, Thomas was waiting at Knapford for James to arrive. His crew were sitting in his cab, sharing a newspaper, while the guard chatted on the platform with the Stationmaster. The passengers who’d already boarded Annie and Clarabel were steadily growing impatient by the delay.

Michael glanced at his watch. “Twenty minutes overdue… I hope James hasn’t had an accident.”

“The signalman would’ve let us know by now if he had,” Simon replied without looking up from the crossword he was working on. “Nine across… Retinue or sequence… five letters…ending with an ‘n’.”

“Retinue or sequence…” Michael pondered. “…five letters… Oh! I know! Train.”

Simon scoffed. “Fancy me not being able to figure that out!”

Thomas let off steam impatiently. He didn’t know what crosswords were, but they sounded boring. “Can’t you two discuss something more interesting?”

Michael and Simon chuckled.

“I could read you this article about the inquiry into the Hinton train crash in Canada,” Michael suggested.

Thomas shuddered. “Urgh! No thank you…”

Just then, they heard James’ approaching whistle off in the distance. Michael quickly folded up his newspaper.

“Ah! Here we go at last…”

Simon reluctantly folded up his section of the newspaper, tucking it inside a pocket. He then set about shovelling coal onto Thomas’ fire to build up steam again. It didn’t take long. Thomas had a full head of steam again by the time James steamed wearily into the station. Some of his passengers disembarked, scurrying across the platform to board Annie and Clarabel.

“I’m sorry, Thomas,” James puffed breathlessly. “I was held up at Vicarstown, and the viaduct made it worse.”

With the passengers safely on board, Thomas’ guard blew his whistle.

“It’s lucky for you I’m a guaranteed connection,” Thomas snorted importantly as he steamed away, leaving James at a loss for words.

Down the line at Dryaw, Thomas whistled impatiently for his passengers to hurry up.

“Get in quickly, please!” Thomas begged. “We’re so late!”

The passengers did their best to board quickly, but they weren’t fast enough for Thomas’ liking. He quickly grew more and more impatient at each station they stopped at. Unfortunately, that only made things worse, and by the time they departed Elsbridge, Thomas was running nearly half an hour behind schedule.

As Thomas hurried towards the Hackenbeck tunnel, he thought he saw a flash of red on the road that ran alongside the railway line. He squinted in the bright early afternoon sunlight to try and see what it was.

“That looks like Bertie,” Thomas muttered to himself. “But Bertie should have got to Ffarquhar ages ago.”

As they steamed closer, Thomas saw that it was indeed Bertie. Seeing a thin stream of smoke curling up from Bertie’s engine, Michael closed Thomas’ regulator and he eased on the brakes. Thomas came to a gradual stop close to Bertie.

“What’s the matter?” Thomas asked his friend, while Michael spoke to Bertie’s driver.

“I feel dreadful,” Bertie moaned. “All upset inside, and driver says he can’t make me better. Can you take my passengers, please? They’ll never get home otherwise.”

“Of course,” Thomas readily agreed.

Michael, the guard, and Bertie’s driver assisted the passengers as they boarded Annie and Clarabel. Before long, Thomas was able to resume his journey to Ffarquhar.

“I promise, I’ll ask the stationmaster to send someone to help you,” Thomas said as he steamed away.

Thomas didn’t bother trying to make up for lost time anymore as he headed towards Ffarquhar. He knew that it was pointless now. He was late, whether he liked it or not.

“You’re right, Simon,” Thomas said as he steamed along. “Sometimes there are things that happen that are beyond our control.”

However, Thomas’ happier mood was quashed as soon as he arrived at Ffarquhar. He saw Percy, hissing crossly on a goods siding with a train of grumbling quarry trucks.

“Why are you so late?” Percy snapped. He continued without giving Thomas a chance to respond. “The signalman refused to let me leave until you’d arrived. That’s so selfish of you! You’re not the only engine who works on this line, you know.”

Thomas let off steam indignantly. “I’ll have you know that I’m late because of James, and I was helping Bertie. Anyway, I’ve got the token for that section of line, so the signalman couldn’t let you leave without it. Besides, my passengers are far more important than your stupid trucks.”

Percy was about to retort when his driver slapped the side of his cab. “That’s enough, Percy. You’ve made your point. It’s time for us to get going now.”

Percy departed, leaving Thomas in a sulk. Thomas knew he had to get the better of Percy soon, to teach him a lesson. He just didn’t know how.

Chapter Text

Chapter 6 – Drip Tank  

Late one afternoon, the Fat Controller was inside his office at Tidmouth, reading and signing some documents. Despite the tediousness of the task at hand, he’d had a pleasant enough day so far. There’d been no major dramas; at least, nothing had happened that required his presence to sort it out.

He’d just finished signing another document when his phone rang.

“Bother that telephone!” the Fat Controller grumbled to himself before he picked up the receiver. “Stephen Hatt speaking.”

“Sorry to bother you, sir,” the man on the other end said. “I’m Mr Philips, the Stationmaster at Toryreck. I just thought you should be made aware that Percy has had a small accident…”

The Fat Controller groaned inwardly. That was the last thing he’d wanted to hear after such a quiet day.

“What happened?”

“He was coming up through the cutting from the harbour when he crashed into an overhanging tree branch.”

The Fat Controller winced in sympathy. Only a year earlier, the Skarloey Railway’s number three engine, Sir Handel, had suffered his own collision with an overhanging tree branch while visiting the Talyllyn Railway in Wales. He’d been lucky not to injure his eye, although his crew had teased him and given him an eye patch to wear for a few days while the grazes around his eye healed.

“Is Percy injured?”

“He didn’t appear to be,” Mr Philips replied. “We’ve put some ice on his forehead, but I don’t think it’ll leave a mark. He’s mostly just a bit shaken.”

The Fat Controller nodded. “I understand. Tell Percy’s crew that if Percy feels well enough to continue with his work, he can. I’ll organise for an inspector to check him over once he reaches Ffarquhar.”

“Thank you, sir,” Mr Philips said before hanging up the phone.

The Fat Controller sighed heavily as he slumped in his chair. At that moment, he heard an engine letting off steam loudly inside the covered station.

“THOMAS!” James hollered from platform four. “You won’t get away with that! You just wait! One day you’ll be laughing on the other side of your smokebox!”  

The Fat Controller didn’t need to see what was happening to know that Thomas was, by now, making a very fast escape back to the sanctuary of his beloved branch line.

I haven’t heard anything about the feud between Thomas and Percy recently, the Fat Controller realised. I hope they’ve finally made up.

Unfortunately, the Fat Controller was wrong.

…

Later that evening at the Ffarquhar sheds, Thomas steamed into his berth. Toby was already in his own berth, having his ashpan flushed, while Percy stood outside the shed. Mr Collins was standing on Percy’s running board, trying to examine his face.

“Ow!” Percy fussed. “Stop poking me! It hurts! Ow! Please, stop!”

“I just need you to open your eye, please Percy,” Mr Collins told him patiently. “If you’d just keep it open, I won’t have to touch your face at all.”

“What’s going on?” Thomas asked Toby.

“Percy collected an overhanging branch on his way back from the harbour this afternoon,” Toby explained.

Thomas almost laughed. “It’s your own fault,” he told Percy unsympathetically. “You should keep a better look-out. I’ve no patience with you.”

“Pah!” Percy huffed crossly. “I doubt you would’ve been able to stop in time either. Especially with your faulty brakes.”

Thomas let off steam indignantly. “My brakes are working perfectly fine now, so just shut up!” Thomas turned his attention to Toby. “Toby, would you like to hear what I called James earlier?”

“No, but you’re going to tell me anyway,” Toby replied indifferently.

“I called him an undercooked lobster!” Thomas laughed again at his own wit. When he realised that Toby wasn’t laughing along with him, he stopped. “Don’t you get it? James is red, and so are lobsters.”

“You shouldn’t tease other engines about how they look,” Toby admonished. “That’s how your fight with Percy started, remember?”

Thomas fell silent and he stared down at his buffers. He knew full well that Toby was correct. He just couldn’t help himself when it came to teasing.

Why do I tease the other engines? I don’t mean to hurt their feelings… It just…comes out…

While Thomas was mentally reproaching himself, Mr Collins had finished assessing Percy for injuries. He spoke to Percy’s crew as he climbed down from the running board.

“I don’t think there’s been any permanent damage done. He’ll just be a bit sore for a day or two, so keep a close eye on him. Let me know if you think he’s not quite right in a couple of days.”

“We will, thank you,” Percy’s driver said.

After the men had gone, Percy started talking to Toby. Just as they’d been doing for the past few weeks, Thomas and Percy completely ignored each other for the rest of the evening.

…

They were still ignoring each other the following day. However, that evening in the shed, the silence between them was finally broken again.

“I say, Toby,” Percy began after all the men had gone home for the night. “What’s a drip? Do you know?”

“Hmm…” Toby pondered for a moment. He gazed up at the ceiling. “It’s when rain comes through a hole in your cab, and fireman hasn’t got time to mend it.”

“That’s silly,” Percy objected. “I heard a boy on the platform call his friend one this afternoon. I’m sure he couldn’t have come through a hole in my cab.”

Thomas exhaled with frustration. He was quite fed up with being ignored.

“That’s different,” Thomas interjected haughtily. “The boy just thought his friend was being a coward, or silly, or a spoilsport.”

Percy frowned thoughtfully. “So, if…If you stopped me from doing something nice, would you be a drip, Thomas?”

“You’re the drip!” Thomas snapped. “Now, go to sleep like a sensible engine and stop talking nonsense.”

Percy scowled crossly. Toby wisely said nothing. He knew that both Thomas and Percy were determined to pay each other out, no matter what. Sometimes, it was better to just mind your own business.

…

Work to repair the viaduct was still continuing, making many trains on the mainline run late. Although Thomas hated running behind schedule, his incident with Bertie had made him realise that being rude to Henry, Gordon, and James for being late just wasn’t worth wasting his steam over. Still, he continued trying to make up for lost time anyway.

And so, the following afternoon found Thomas waiting at Knapford once again, this time for Henry to arrive.

“When are they going to get that viaduct finished?” Thomas fumed impatiently to no one in particular.

Michael, who was standing on the platform leaning his back against Thomas’ tank, gave Thomas a soothing pat.

“Another couple of weeks of this, and we should be back to our normal schedule,” he tried to reassure him.

Thomas let off steam. “Why do we have to be a guaranteed connection?” He knew the reason, but he wanted to find something to grumble about due to his boredom.

Michael decided to ignore him. Just then, they heard Henry’s whistle off in the near distance.

“About time!” Thomas muttered.

Michael and Simon climbed into Thomas’ cab, so they could be ready to leave as soon as the passengers had boarded. Thomas watched as Henry steamed into the station.

“I’m so sorry, Thomas!” Henry panted. “The via-”

“I know!” Thomas exclaimed. His fire flared up before Simon even had a chance to add more coal. “The viaduct! The viaduct! It’s always the viaduct! Why can’t you come up with something more original?”

“I was going to say that the viaduct has almost finished being repaired,” Henry put in. “I overheard a worker say that they’re going to start taking the scaffolding down in a day or two.”

“Oh.” Thomas didn’t know what else to say. The guard blew his whistle and Thomas steamed out of the station.  

Thomas hurried along his line as quickly as he could, doing his best to make up for lost time. As he raced towards Elsbridge, he suddenly felt a stabbing pain from his left side rod. Less than a second later, there was a metallic snap, followed by a loud bang as something solid smashed into the underside of his left-hand running board, piercing his water tank.

“Ouch!” Thomas yelped. His entire left-hand side was in agony now and cold water was splashing against his wheels.

Michael quickly applied the emergency brakes and Thomas came quickly to a stop. Simon, leaning out of his side of the cab, could clearly see what had happened.

“Oh, boy! That’s torn it!”

“What’s wrong?” Michael asked. He crossed the cab and peered out around Simon. He whistled when he saw the damage. He then climbed down from the cab and walked alongside Thomas to get a closer look.

“What’s wrong with me?” Thomas whimpered. “Ow! This hurts so bad…!”

Michael moved onto the track in front of Thomas so he could talk directly to his face. “One of your side rods has broken,” he explained. “It swung up and punctured your tank. We’ll have to get help.” He turned towards Simon. “You’d better drop his fire. Without any water, we can’t run the risk of him running dry.”

“Pity,” Simon bemoaned. “I’d just got it going so nicely…”

Simon set to work dropping Thomas’ fire out of the firebox. The guard approached to find out why they’d stopped.

“What shall I tell the passengers if they ask?” the guard asked after Michael had explained the situation.

“Just tell them that Thomas has broken down, and that we’ll get them home as soon as we can,” Michael replied. “You’d better secure the line.”

While the guard went to secure the train from behind with red flags and detonator caps, Michael and Simon debated who should walk to Elsbridge station to alert the signalman there. It was quickly determined that Simon should go, leaving Michael to try and make Thomas as comfortable as possible. Thomas watched as Simon set off down the line towards the Elsbridge signal box. Luckily, they weren’t too far away from the station.

Thomas gritted his teeth together against the pain while Michael retrieved the toolbox from the guard’s compartment. It was only a basic toolbox, but it had the tools he needed to remove the broken side rod.

“Okay, Thomas,” Michael soothed once he had sorted out the tools he needed. “This might hurt a bit, but I do need to remove this side rod so you can be moved without causing anymore damage to yourself.”

“Just hurry up and get it over with.”

Using a large wrench, Michael managed to loosen the bolt that was still holding the undamaged end of the broken side rod in place. Thomas yelped again but then exhaustion overwhelmed him, and he fell silent.

I wonder who’s going to rescue me? I doubt it’ll be Percy. He wouldn’t want to help me. He’ll just laugh instead. Toby’s too busy at the quarry… Oh, please, don’t let it be Gordon! I’ll never hear the end of it… Oh, why did I have to get into a fight with Percy? I don’t even remember what started it… I think it was something I said. Why do I have to be so stuck-up? Percy was right. Being number one doesn’t make me any better than any of the other engines. I just happened to be the first engine purchased by the railway board. And they only bought me because the LB&SC railway thought I’d been destroyed. I’m so lucky to be here, and I’m lucky to have so many wonderful friends. I shouldn’t be so horrid to them…

Thomas’ gloomy thoughts were interrupted when he heard a familiar whistle approaching. It was Percy’s. Thomas nearly burst into tears.

Percy slowly buffeted up in front of Thomas, facing him. The passengers leaned out of Annie and Clarabel to cheer and thank Percy for coming to rescue them. Simon climbed down from Percy’s cab, and he climbed into Thomas’.

“Right, are well all set?” Simon asked.

“Yes,” Michael confirmed. “I’ve removed the broken side rod. We just need to wait for the guard to remove the detonator caps and then we can set off.”

While they waited, Thomas stared humbly down at his buffers, which were now touching Percy’s. Thomas swallowed. He knew what he needed to say.

“I’m sorry I was rude,” he whispered, so that only Percy could hear him. “That tank of mine turned me into a bigger drip than we expected, didn’t it? Can we be friends again, please?”

“Of course!” Percy readily agreed. “I wanted to make up to you the other day, after I crashed into that tree, but then you made me cross all over again.”

Thomas fell silent again. He felt terrible, both physically and emotionally. The shock of his injury had almost worn off, leaving him feeling utterly exhausted. Percy could see just how tired and hurt Thomas was, so he decided to remain silent too.

Finally, once the guard had blown his whistle and waved his green flag, they set off back to Ffarquhar. Thomas whimpered from the pain in his side every now and again, especially around curves. He was relieved when Percy was able to shunt him inside his cosy shed. All he wanted to do now was sleep.

Unfortunately, Mr Collins and a couple of fitters were already there waiting for him. Mr Collins shook his head in dismay when he saw the damage.

“That looks painful,” Mr Collins sympathised.

“It is,” Thomas groaned mournfully.

Mr Collins and the fitters gathered around closer to Thomas’ side, so they could get a better look at his punctured water tank. They used a torch so they could see it better. Thomas, Michael, Simon, and Percy remained silent while they waited impatiently for the fitters to finish their assessment.

“I’d like to see the broken side rod, please,” Mr Collins asked Michael.

Michael retrieved the broken section of the side rod from Thomas’ cab, and he handed it over. Mr Collins stepped outside the shed, so he could inspect the broken piece for himself in the sunlight.

“Has Thomas’ motion gear been out of time recently?” Mr Collins questioned.

“Maybe slightly…” Michael ventured. “Why do you ask?”

Mr Collins pointed to the broken end of the side rod. “That’s a stress fracture, not metal fatigue. That means that the joint came under sudden stress causing it to snap rather than bend slowly over time.” He patted Thomas’ punctured tank sympathetically. “No wonder you’re in so much pain. This edge is sharp, and it’s done considerable damage to your frame and water tank.”

“You’re not going to have Thomas scrapped, are you?” Percy asked anxiously.   

“No, Percy,” Mr Collins assured him. “Thomas is badly hurt, but it’s repairable. He will have to go to the Works though.”

Thomas sighed despondently. He was too tired to really care what happened to him.

“Then, can I take him to the Works, please?” Percy begged.

“Maybe.” Mr Collins returned the broken side rod to Thomas’ cab. “I’d better go and phone Mr Hatt. Let him know what’s happened. Thanks for helping, Percy, but it’s time for you to get back to work, please. There’s nothing more you can do to help for now.”

Percy hesitated. He didn’t really want to leave Thomas alone while he was injured. Especially now that they were friends again.

“It’s okay, Percy,” Thomas reassured him. “I’ll be fine. I’ll just have a nap.”

“Okay…” And Percy reluctantly steamed away.

…

Not long later, the Fat Controller drove into the Ffarquhar yard. Having spoken with Mr Collins over the phone, he’d decided to examine Thomas’ injury for himself. He was somewhat relieved to see that Thomas was fast asleep inside his shed. Percy had been shunting in the yard, but he paused when he saw the Fat Controller arrive.

The Fat Controller strolled quietly over to the shed, taking care not to wake the sleeping tank engine. He nodded in greeting to Mr Collins, Michael, and Simon.

“How bad is it?” the Fat Controller whispered.

Mr Collins showed the damage to the Fat Controller. Upon seeing it, the Fat Controller whistled softly.

“He’ll definitely need to go to the Works for repairs,” the Fat Controller decided.

Mr Collins frowned. “I’m afraid he’s going to require more than just repairs, sir. He’s going to need to have an entirely new frame built. If they just patch the area, it’ll become a weak spot, especially if it starts leaking water and goes rusty.”

“Hmm…” the Fat Controller mused. “Yes, you’re quite right. In that case, it might be best to build a brand new frame for him. We might as well give him a full overhaul too, while we’re at it. He’s about due for one anyway, if my memory serves me correctly.”

“Mr Greenwood would know,” Mr Collins agreed, referring to the Works’ Manager. “He’ll most likely agree with your opinion anyway, sir.”

The Fat Controller sighed. “A full overhaul could take up to a year to complete, depending on what else they find. That means I’ll have to find someone else to take care of the passenger services while Thomas is away…”

“Percy asked if he could take Thomas to the Works,” Mr Collins interjected. “Given their fight, I thought I’d better ask you about it first.”

“Yes, you were quite right to check. Might be best to keep them separated for now. I’ll find someone. In the meantime, try and keep Thomas quiet.”

“That’s easier said than done, sir,” Simon muttered. “You know that as well as I do.”

“Yes… Just do your best.”  

The Fat Controller started to walk across the yard towards the station. Percy steamed slowly over to him.

“Excuse me, sir?”

The Fat Controller turned to face him. “Yes, Percy?”

“Will Thomas be all right, sir? You aren’t going to scrap him, are you, sir?”

“Of course, I’m not going to scrap him, Percy! Whatever made you think I would?”  

“The Inspector said that he was badly injured from a stress fracture. I’m the one who gave him so much stress, because we were fighting. But we’ve apologised to each other now, sir.”

“I see…” the Fat Controller pondered. “In that case, you may take Thomas to the Works after all.”

“Oh, thank you, sir!” Percy squeaked. “I just want to make sure he’ll be okay.”

“He’ll be fine, Percy, I promise. And your fighting didn’t cause Thomas’ side rod to break. These things just happen. But it will take a very long time for Thomas to be repaired…”

“How long?”

“Maybe a year.”

Percy was horrified “A year?”

“Yes, you see, I’ve decided that he should have a full overhaul along with his repairs.”

“Oh.” Percy didn’t know what else to say. It seemed poignant for himself and Thomas to have made up just before Thomas was about to be sent away for such a long time. “Will I be able to visit him, sir?”

“I don’t think that’s a very good idea, Percy. It’d probably upset you more.”

Percy stared sadly down at his buffers, making the Fat Controller feel bad for the little saddle tank.

“But,” the Fat Controller continued, “You can help Thomas recover faster if he knows that you’re taking good care of his branch line for him. Do you think you can manage that?”

Percy immediately brightened. “Oh, yes sir! I will, sir!”

“Excellent! I’ll just go and make the arrangements for you to take Thomas to the Works. You can take him there once he wakes up.”

Percy was only too happy to agree. It felt good to be able call Thomas his friend once again.