Chapter Text
Jasmine and the Exhibition.
Jasmine was a new engine owned by the Reverend. She had two small wheels in front, and six driving wheels behind. Her wheels weren't as small as Tasha’s, but weren’t as big as Gordon’s.
“You're a mixed traffic engine,” the Reverend would say, "capable of pulling either trucks or coaches easily.”
Jasmine didn't like trucks. She had nearly been thrown from the club layout on her first night by them. The Reverend had added weights to her so she couldn't be pushed around by rolling stock as easily, and now she felt stronger than ever, but it did little to improve her opinion of trucks.
The Reverend hadn’t only improved her performance, she looked better too. She had originally been made as an Midland styled 0-6-0 with a plain black livery, but after her close call the good Reverend had extended her front with a pony truck to give her better stability going around tight curves at speed. She felt far more elegant as a mogul than she had as an 0-6-0, and she had new paint to boot!
The Reverend had given her a special coat of red paint to cheer her up. She stood out amongst his fleet, with gleaming cherry red paint and shing brass against her shelfmates standard blue livery. The blue looked far better than her original black she would admit, but she loved that she was now unique, rather than just another 3F.
Today was her first exhibition with the Reverend, joining him, his wife, and Edward for the trip.
“You'll be pulling passengers today,” the Reverend said as he set her onto the track, “Edward shall show you the ropes.”
Edward showed her where the coaches were stored in the exhibition layout’s fiddle yard.
“Be careful with the coaches, Jasmine,” Edward said, “they don't like being bumped. Trucks are silly things, bumping them is all but a hello to them. If you don't bump them they'll try to push you around. Coaches will get cross if you bump them, and will pay you out.”
They took the coaches to the platform, and coupled up in front, with Edward in front. Several club members and children came over to admire Jasmine’s new paint.
Jasmine was happy with all the attention.
‘I really am a splendid engine.’ She thought.
She whistled, showing off.
“Peeeeep!”
She accidentally startled one of the club members, who dropped their coffee on the layout. The club members quickly scrambled to clean the mess before the hot drink could damage the tracks or scenery.
Just then the signal dropped, and Jasmine thought they'd better go before she got blamed, so they did.
“Go on, go on,” she puffed to Edward.
“Don't push, don't push,” Edward puffed back, for she didn't like starting quickly.
“Don't go so fast. Don't go so fast,” grumbled the coaches, but Jasmine didn't listen. She wanted to be away before she could be called back.
She was in such a hurry she forgot they had to stop at the first station, and they overshot the platform. They had to reverse to get the first two coaches back in line with the platform.
“What is your hurry Jasmine?” Edward asked bemusedly as they waited for the next signal to drop. “We're not likely to be late this early in the day.”
Jasmine reluctantly explained what had happened behind them.
“Oh, so that's what I heard,” Edward chuckled, “don't worry about that Jasmine. I'd wager that it was Mr.Jones. Our Reverend’s been telling him to keep his coffee away from the layouts for years now. He'll be right cross, but not with you.”
Jasmine felt better after that and they set off for the next station much more smoothly.
They met Tasha at the next station. The Reverend's personal exhibition layout had been added into a set of points leading off the main boards, representing a small branchline, and Tasha was running it.
“Hullo Jasmine! Feeling better now?”
“Yes, I…”
“That's right! The Reverend knows how to get us feeling our best. Ah! That's my signal. I must go, sorry I can't stay and talk. The Reverend is depending on me to run this branchline.”
With that, the little tank engine raced off proudly with her two coaches.
James blinked, “Is she always so…”
“Energetic?” Edward offered.
“Sure…let's go with that.”
“Yes.”
“Ah.”
***
The rest of the day passed smoothly enough. As Edward predicted, the Reverend waved off the incident with the coffee.
“It wasn't your fault Jasmine,” he said, “Jones knew better than to have his coffee by the layout, but chose to do so anyway. Besides, being startled by an engine’s whistle at a model railway show of all places…” he shook his head.
“No Jasmine, you've done quite well for your first exhibition, quite well indeed.”
James was quiet but content on the shelf that night, as Edward and Tasha talked with the other engines about their day out. She had enjoyed her day out, and was eager to go again. Listening to Gordon and Henry chuckling as Edward told them about an old lady who’d spilled her parcels when she'd heard Jasmine laugh, the little red engine realized this time, she might have found her home.