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Chapter Text

The Fat Controller had always had a soft spot for the Mountain Railway up on Culdee Fell. They served the best scones with their cream teas! As such, he had always wanted to fix up the old branchline that ran up to their railway. It had fallen into disrepair after less people had used the line when the new road was built.

But Bear’s accident changed things. The passengers – when not complaining about the delay – talked endlessly about the beauty of the region, and many asked if there were trains up the old branchline. This gave the Fat Controller the perfect reason to start rebuilding the old line.

Donald and Douglas were not pleased. They liked the line they worked on.
“Yon mainline engines’ll ruin our line!” they grumbled. Gordon, Henry and James didn’t listen. They were too busy complaining about being tasked with fixing up the line.

Henry, Gordon and James all believed that mainline engines did not pull branchline trains, and that branchline engines should not pull mainline trains. Edward found this all very tiresome – and rather a backwards mindset.
“Do you ever stop complaining?” he asked one morning. It had been yet another night of the three arguing about the new project, and Edward was running out of both patience and sleep.
“We are big engines,” Henry huffed. “We have a right to complain! The Fat Controller is making us work on a dirty branchline! It’s… it’s…”
“Disgraceful,” Gordon stated grandly.
“Disgusting,” put in James.
“Despicable,” finished Henry. Edward was not impressed, but puffed away anyway to arrange his morning passenger train.

Bear and BoCo were also on the Blue engine’s mind. The two had been quieter than usual, and both seemed to be doing their best to avoid going near the end of the mainline. This wasn’t so odd in BoCo’s case, as the kindly diesel worked with Edward on his branchline, but Bear was as well.

Edward wondered if he should ask someone else for advice, but with the amount of grumbling that the Big Engines were doing, their ‘needs’ came first.

James was supposed to work on the rebuilding project. This plan lasted about as long as it took for James to get from the sheds to the yard. He grumbled and complained so loudly that Bear simply gave him his passenger train and took the works train himself. The diesel was happy not to be going anywhere near the Other Railway.

The Fat Controller had not been pleased, and James spent the rest of the week in the yard.

Gordon was sent next. He at least made it to the line with his train.
“This is demeaning work,” huffed Gordon. “I should organise another… desperation to the Fat Controller about this mistreatment of big engines.” Edward sighed.
“Deputation Gordon. Deputation.”
“Poor, sweet old Edward,” huffed Gordon snootily. “Just because you invented depurations, doesn’t mean that you can change how they are said.”
“I didn’t—” Edward was cut off by a rude whoosh of steam.

Edward sighed. Ever since his driver Charlie and his fireman Sidney had taken their position on his footplate, they had been teaching the old engine to better him. They called it a ‘proper education’ – Edward just saw it as another way to help others and keep on top of the twins. Shame none of the other engines seemed to ever listen properly.

Gordon thundered along the branchline, not caring how he went. The line was old and most of the track was worn from heavy rains.

As he raced along an embankment, the rails gave out from beneath him. His driver and fireman jumped clear as Gordon raced down the embankment and towards a farm. His trucks rolled and crashed behind him. Poor Gordon couldn’t stop! He bounced along, crashing through a barn and losing his tender somewhere behind him.

Finally, he came to a stop in front of a scarecrow that seemed to glare at him disdainfully.

When the Fat Controller arrived on Terence the Tractor, he was not pleased.
“Well Gordon, Edward tells me you wanted to hold a deputation, but this is not the way to do it. You were speeding along that line and you know it! You have ruined the farmer’s harvest and cost us a lot of money! Now Henry will have to pull the works trains.” Gordon wanted to reply, but he couldn’t. The dirt had ploughed up and covered his mouth. Terence chuckled.

“What is it with you engines and trying to do my job? Get yourself some nice caterpillar tracks first! You’re just lucky my owner rented me out here, or you’d be in a right pickle.”

The orange tractor kindly towed Gordon close to the line, and Edward dragged the sorry engine home.
“Well Gordon? Did your deputation go well?” asked the old engine cheekily. Gordon just groaned.

Chapter Text

One cool evening, Edward and Henry were sitting in the yard. Edward had arranged a train for Henry to take up to the work site on the abandoned branchline by the marsh. It was a bright, moonlit night, and Henry was enjoying the company. It wasn’t often he got to just sit and talk with Edward.

Just as Edward was about to finish a story, an owl hooted. Edward paused.
“Whenever that owl hoots, a mist rolls in…” the old Engine murmured. “And legend has it, that when the mist’s about, there’s a ghost about too.” Henry raised an eyebrow at his old friend.
“A ghost Edward? You’ve gone soft in the boiler! I’ve been down that line fixing the viaduct plenty of times now, and there’s no ghost.”
“But before now that owl hasn’t hooted,” murmured Edward. “Take care Henry.” Henry snorted away.

“Stupid bird,” huffed Henry as he heard the owl hoot again. “There’s no mist!”

But Henry was wrong…

 As soon as he switched onto the old branchline a thick mist rolled in. Soon it blanketed the tracks, and Henry could barely see. But one thing beamed out at Henry in the fog.

“What’s that?” gulped Henry.
“It’s an amber lamp…” said his driver. “But why? We’d best proceed with caution.” Henry crept slowly forwards until he was just in sight of the old station. There, nailed to a tree was a sign. It read: Beware of the Viaduct.
“No one warned us of that before… a…a…and look! The signal’s red and the gates are closed…”
A…and… and there’s a fogman’s coat!” stuttered the fireman. “But where’s it’s owner?” Then, a light flickered on in the old station and moved.

“G-g-g-ghost!” exclaimed Henry. “Edward was right!” And without stopping to look around, his driver threw open the regulator and Henry rushed away back down the line.

By morning, the mists had cleared. Oliver, who had joined Henry to work on building the new line, took a few workmen up to check the viaduct.
“Lucky you didn’t cross it last night,” the workman said. “There was a broken rail. If you’d hit that stretch of track…” He left that thought hanging.
“Yes,” replied the driver. “But we don’t know who warned us!”

Henry did not want to think about it.

Later that day, Henry’s driver spoke to Henry.
“The viaduct’s been mended, so we can take our train back along that old line tonight. Henry tried to look brave, but he really didn’t want to. Edward sidled alongside.
“Are you alright?” he asked.
“Yes! Yes, I’m completely fine!” snapped Henry. “It’s just the mist!”
“Okay,” sighed Edward. He puffed slowly away.

Henry dreaded pulling the train all day, but when night fell he was sizzling nicely. He was stuck pushing his train due to a points failure, so he could barely see the line ahead – but he didn’t mind. Suddenly, an owl hooted and Bear roared by with the express.
“Oh look, Henry’s spooked,” giggled a truck, and the others sniggered and cackled in their silly way. 
“Be quiet,” barked Henry. “I’m not scared”

But he was.

A little later, the mist rolled in. As they approached the same area, they saw the amber light once more.
“Here we go,” sighed Henry’s driver.

Then, unbeknownst to Henry, the signal lamp flickered red, and the gates mysteriously closed. The trucks had seen everything, and now they were spooked too!
“Faster, faster!” the screeched. “There’s a ghost about!”
“Stop! Stop!” yelled Henry, trying to slow the train down. They smashed through the crossing gates and continued down the line. A shadowy figure watched Henry go by. They turned, and vanished into the station house.

Ahead, blocking the viaduct, stood a landslide! Henry braked hard, but some of the trucks hit the rubble and plunged off the line and into the ravine. Henry was shocked still, stunned. Then, he heard an eerie creaking. It grew steadily louder. It got closer. Henry gulped, and looked behind him. There was a strange, glowing amber light floating towards them…

“It’s old Bailey the fogman!” laughed Henry’s driver. “That’s our ghost!” Old Bailey was most annoyed.
“I tried to warn you about the viaduct,” he grumbled. “Why didn’t you pay attention?!”
“We’re very sorry,” replied the driver. “But your warning did save us. How can we repay you?”
“I’d like to operate that old station by the lake. If you let me, I promise not to spook Henry here.”

And in a little while, Old Bailey’s wish was granted. It was decorated for the opening ceremony, and the Fat Controller came to open the new station.
“You and your station will be really useful once again,” said the Fat Controller. “Let’s here a hearty… er… thank you to the friendliest…”
“Ghost,” chuckled Old Bailey.
“Ghost on the island.” Everyone cheered.

As the opening party went on, Old Bailey wandered over to Henry.
“I’m sorry we didn’t listen to your warning,” sighed Henry. “But… why didn’t you say anything more yesterday? The workmen came up and everything!”
“Yesterday? What do you mean?” asked Old Bailey. “I found the landslide while doing my rounds early last night! I haven’t been this way in weeks!”

Ghosts aren’t real… aren’t they?

Chapter Text

Oliver had been sent to take over with the work on the refurbishment of the branchline. As part of it, he had to pull long coal and iron trains from the mines around the city of Peel Godred down to the mainline. He got very dirty, and to make matters worse the piping on the old line had rusted, so all the hoses didn’t work.

“Bother,” grumbled Oliver one evening as his driver once again tried to get the hose to work, only for a little bit of brown sludge to dribble out. “A bath would make me feel much better! Now the others will all say I look disgusting!”

But the engines were all too busy arguing to notice Oliver. James was loudest of them all, his voice cutting through the evening.
“I deserve a new coat of paint!” he sneered. “I’m the pride of the line!”
“Rubbish,” snorted Henry. “You just prance around doing the work you want.”
“It’s been like this all day,” confided Duck to Oliver. “James is getting a new coat of paint and just won’t stop boasting about it.”
“Why James?” huffed Oliver. “I’m the one who needs a new coat of paint! I mean, just look at me!”
“I’d rather not,” retorted James. “You’re not a pleasant sight! You wouldn’t understand the needs of a really splendid and important engine like me!”
“I’m the resourceful and—”
“Now go sit in a siding or something so you don’t dirty me,” James interrupted. Oliver fumed away.

Next morning while James was being repainted Henry had an accident. He had been pushing some trucks together for a works train and hit a twisted rail. James was unimpressed, watching as Henry braked to a stop with a mountain of trucks around him.
“If you can’t push trucks Henry, why not go talk to a tree instead? You will at least not cause any damage in the forest.”
“As a matter of fact,” huffed Henry, “the Fat Controller is inspecting the railway for trees too close to the line. He’s worried they might cause trouble.”
“Pah!” laughed James. “If I came upon a tree I’d just push it aside.”
“Oh really?!” replied Henry. Before James could retort, the big green engine was puffing away to find a breakdown crane.

Soon James was puffing about showing off his paintwork. He was heading to the Big Station to pick up the Express. Oliver, Donald and Terence were clearing trees near the junction to the Peel Godred branchline.
“Make way for a really important engine!” boasted James.
“Ye wouldne feel so important if one o’ yon trees crashed on ye. Ye’d feel hurt,” reproached Donald.
“Rubbish! It wouldn’t dare!”
“Trees can be just as powerful as engines,” Terence warned.
“You should be careful James,” advised Oliver.
“What does a smelly little engine like you know?” snorted James. “Now if you’ll excuse me, the Fat Controller needs me for the express!”

But James was wrong. He arrived to find Bear pulling away with the express.
“You must go to the yards and collect an important goods train for the refurbishment project James. It’s very heavy, so be careful.”
“But sir!” James was furious. “I’ve just been repainted! Can’t one of the twins or Oliver do it? They’re dirty and like puffing around with trucks.”
“Really useful engines do as they are told,” scolded the Fat Controller. “They do not argue.”

So James didn’t. By the time he’d arrived at the yards, the weather had changed for the worse. It was cold and miserable, with howling winds and pelting rain.
“Your colour’s nice James, pity ‘bout your face though,” sniggered a truck. James ignored them, and coupled up. He set off, puffing along while grumbling dreadfully. They switched onto the branchline and started climbing the first hill. His driver knew they were in for a difficult time, but didn’t see what was coming.

An old dead tree close to the line was being pounded by the strong winds and the rain had weakened the slope. All of a sudden, the tree moved. James saw the tree almost too late.
“Help!” he cried, throwing on the brakes. He stopped just in front of the tree. “Go away!” But the tree couldn’t. James tried to reverse away from the tree, but the rails were wet and his train was too heavy.

Then he heard a familiar whistle.

“It’s Oliver,” called the driver. James groaned, and waited for the teasing to start. But Oliver said nothing. He knew that this was no time for teasing. He was coupled to the train, and prepared to pull.
“Peep! Peep! I’m ready!” shouted Oliver.
“So am I,” replied James. He looked up at the tree. “Ready as I’ll ever be…” Puffing and straining, the two engines pulled away from the tree.

They were just in time.

The tree hit the ground with a thud, and James could only wince. That had almost been him under that tree.

Later, he apologised to Oliver.
“I’m sorry about being so rude,” he said. “You were all right to warn me. Thank you for rescuing me!”
“Oh that’s no problem,” smiled Oliver. Then a thought struck him. “You just had a new coat of paint. It’d be a pity if you got hit by a tree and spoilt it!”
“Are you quoting Duke at me?” squawked James. The two laughed.

As a reward for his quick thinking, Oliver got a new coat of paint. And as for James…

The Fat Controller let him pull the express for a while, just to let the red engine calm down after his frightful experience.

Chapter Text

The line was finally complete. And just in time, Gordon was repaired. Unfortunately, he had returned to the sheds in a foul temper, and this was annoying the other engines. Finally, James snapped.
“Why are you always complaining?”
“Because I’m a big, grand blue express engine and I know everything! I shall complain whenever I want. You are just an itty-bitty engine with ideas above his station.” Percy, who had spent the night at the Big Sheds after bringing in a stone train, looked around curiously.
“I don’t see any.”
“Any what?”
“Ideas above the station.” Percy had meant to be rude, but Gordon and James chose not to see it that way.
“Like your smokebox Percy!” laughed James. Gordon was still grumpy.
“One day I’ll show you what a big engine can really do.”
“And what can a big engine really do?”
“Not speak to silly little engines for a start.” And with that, Gordon rumbled away.
“One day I’d like to see him try and talk to Daisy,” grunted Percy under his breath.

Gordon had a special train that morning. It was full of inspectors heading to see the new station. Gordon was forced to go slowly and carefully – but he didn’t feel right. He complained about idling about in the station; that was Henry’s thing – but all the same he headed along the line. But he was unhappy and he felt ill too.
“I just can’t get up to speed,” groaned Gordon.
“They mustn’t have cleaned your pipes properly,” sighed the driver. “You’ll have to go to the works to get them flushed.”

At last they reached the new station. It was built on a small ledge overlooking a part of town that had extended out beyond the walls of the old city. It was very grand, and Gordon was impressed. But his mood soon changed.

In front of him sat a large, blank wall and a set of brown buffers.
“What is this?” spluttered Gordon.
“The station wall?”
“It’s a boring view, that’s what it is! An important engine like me should have a panoramic view – so I can see everyone and everyone can see me!” And he whooshed steam loudly. Several of the inspectors glared at Gordon, but didn’t mind him. They were too busy checking the station. Soon, it was time to leave.

“Now you can get a really good run in,” promised the driver. “So long as your pipes let you…” Gordon tried his best, and began grumbling loudly as he felt his pipes begin to cause him trouble again.
“Come on! Come on! I can go faster than this!” he huffed. Then there was trouble. As they rocketed over the points there was a loud clang, and steam erupted from Gordon’s cylinders. The express engine found himself going slower and slower, crawling into the next station.
“What happened to me?” he wheezed.
“Not a clue,” sighed the fireman. “Bear ought to pass soon, so he can take the inspectors on.” But to their surprise the engine pulling Bear’s passengers was James! The red engine took one look at Gordon and began to laugh.
“Well, well, well!” he chuckled. “So much for knowing everything! You got so puffed up in the boiler you dislodged something!” And he puffed away with his passengers, chortling loudly.

Gordon was dragged to the works and quickly mended. When he returned, he was still boasting.
“I am the finest engine on the island, perhaps in the world! And now the Fat Controller wants me to take him to the new station opening!”
“That’s utter rubbish!” snapped James. “I did the most work to rebuild that line – you just crashed!”
“You went on that line once,” huffed Henry. “I pulled the trains and did the actual work!”
“You were scared of a Fogman!”
“You were scared of a tree!” retorted Henry. “And you Gordon, well! You crashed into a farmer’s field the only time you went on the line!”
“And yet I am still so important and magnificent that the Fat Controller—”

Edward finally snapped.
“Shut up all of you!” he roared. “Just – just shut up and give us five minutes! If anyone did the most work it’s the rest of us for listening to your boiler ache!”
“But—”
“I will rip off your wheels and paint you blue James,” snarled Edward. The red engine cowered in his shed. Gordon slunk away before Edward could turn on him.

The Fat Controller decided to ride with Gordon in his cab, and the big engine set off for the new station. But there was trouble. As they approached the station, neither the driver, fireman nor Sir Topham Hatt could apply his brakes. Something had jammed. They pulled and tugged at the lever, but it would not budge. The driver shut off steam and jumped from the cab, followed by the fireman and the Fat Controller.

Gordon was still going too fast as he entered the station. People panicked and ran fleeing from the station as he charged in.
“No! Stop!” cried Gordon. He smashed through the buffers, ripped through the platform and burst through the station wall, coming to a rest with half his boiler hanging out the end of the station. Oliver hurried to secure him to stop the big engine from falling into the street below.
“Help me, please!” begged Gordon.

It took some time to pull Gordon back onto the rails – and longer still to clear away the broken plaster. The Fat Controller came to see him.
“I know you wanted a panoramic view – but this is not the way to achieve it. You’ll go back to the works and be mended properly this time.”

When Gordon was repaired yet again, he took the Fat Controller to the second official branchline reopening – and this time he arrived safely. The invited guests clapped and cheered as he pulled in – though a couple did flinch as he drew close to the buffers, especially considering the Fat Controller still had his arm in a cast. Sir Topham Hatt addressed Gordon.
“Your panoramic view is here to stay. I trust that when you come to this station you will always see through it… from the safety of your own rails.

Gordon heartily agreed.