Thomas and Friends: a New Generation

by The Blue EM2

Chapter 12-Every Cloud is Silver Lined

After a rather interesting session of learning, the crew took a ride in Sophie to get to their next destination. Considering where they were going, it was considered to be a rather poor use of fuel for all the engines to go. Unfortunately, this meant the experience in the cab got a bit cramped, as the Class 33 had not been designed with this many occupants in mind. The ultimate solution was that some rode in the rear cab to allow them all to fit, but this did have some strange effects.

"It's weird seeing the world moving away from you," Hitch noted, as he and Zipp watched Lancashire rolling away in the opposite direction. "I'm used to seeing it moving towards me."

"Once, we got a taxi to an airport," Zipp recalled. "To maximise capacity and reduce space onboard, the vehicle had backwards facing seats on the opposite wall rather than a new row behind another. I once took a ride on a backwards seat to see what it was like."

"What was it like?"

Zipp sighed. "I got seasick, then... well, you know what I mean."

Hitch sagely nodded. "There's something I don't get about you."

"And that is?"

"Why your career choices? Your position in life allows you access to all of life's comforts at the touch of a button, and access to the very top of our society. And yet you choose to be an engine driver."

"If nothing else I need a backup career if things go south," Zipp said. "Besides, just being from a landed family doesn't automatically make you a snob. I just never massively liked all the formal stuff, that's all. My place is outdoors. It's Pipp who likes all the dressing up. She'd dress like a princess every day if she could. But that's just my opinion. And once you get past his boorishness, Charles is actually pretty great to work with."

Hitch smiled. "I understand. I hope to make it into law enforcement someday, and the CCF is hopefully a springboard to that. If I can prove I can lead well in difficult times, that's a great thing to have on your CV." He paused. "And yet, here I am, miles from home in the cab of a diesel, talking to a person who only a day ago was a complete stranger. Life is a funny thing, sometimes."

There was some sudden braking which jolted them out of their seats.

"Sorry!" Pipp said, over the radio. "This engine's brakes are harsher than I expected."

"Yeah, she's not a particularly good driver."

"I heard that!"

Zipp rolled her eyes and looked out of the window. "We seem to be approaching a large station. Maybe this is our stop?"

Before long, sheds and buildings were rolling past, and Sophie eventually came to a stop at a platform. Opposite the riders was the station's running in board.

"Bury Bolton Street?" Hitch sounded out, as he opened the door. "Name kinda rings a bell."

---

The group strolled down the platform towards the footbridge, which was covered over to protect the travellers from the elements.

"Great to be in Berry again," Izzy smiled.

"I thought it was Bury," Hitch replied, then looked at the wall. "White rose?"

The nearby corridor fell silent as people looked at Hitch.

"What?"

Izzy took him to one side. "There are four phrases that scare Lancastrians more than any other. "These are 'white rose' (the flower of Yorkshire), 'winter of discontent', 'Richard III', and 'white pudding'."

Hitch looked confused. "What's so bad about white pud-"

Izzy put a hand over his mouth. "Uh uh. Bad idea."

They continued on their journey, Sunny speaking up. "Hey. There's a sign saying to the Trackside Bar on the left, on Platform 1. Is that where we're heading?"

"Yep!" Izzy said. "Your best chance of finding Alphabittle and the boys is in there."

Once at the bottom of the steps, they stepped in through the door. They entered to quite a rowdy scene. The Trackside Bar was absolutely packed. People at the tables were trying a variety of different meals, and the bar was surrounded by men who were singing something about a drunken sailor.

Sunny smiled. "I got this," she said, and stepped forward confidently, taking a seat at the bar.

"Hullo!" said the bartender. "What can I get you?"

"J²0, please," Sunny said. "Hold t' ice."

The bartender nodded. "Sure thing." He went away to collect the bottle as Sunny turned to a man sitting next to her. He was a heavyset man in what appeared to be his middle fifties, with grey skin and a wild, spectacular mane of white hair. He also had quite a substancial beard, which oddly helped to emphasise his brown eyes. He was, as a lot of the men were, currently dressed in a boilersuit, suggesting he had recently come off work.

"Hi," Sunny said. "I'm looking for t' Alphabittle. You seen him?"

The man turned around. "You just found him. I have to say, I haven't seen you before. Can't place the accent either. Where you from? Preston? Morecambe? Or maybe Manchester?"

Sunny decided to get down to business as the drink rolled into her hand. "I'm a collector of antiquities. There's one you have I'm interested in. Unless it eat up t'werms, of course."

Alphabittle smiled. "You're quite confident for a little kid. What you got in return?"

Sunny showed him the one they had recovered. "This. And I'm average height for my age, actually."

Alphabittle let loose a spectacular laugh. "I like your spirit!" He turned to his fellows. "Shall we challenge them to an engine run?"

"Yes! Let's!" the men replied.

Alphabittle brought up a picture on his phone. "This is a Sulzer 6LDA28-B, as used in the Class 25. Me and my team can strip one of these bad boys down and completely refurbish it in 24 hours. If you can do it in 22, it's yours."

Sunny suddenly realised she had bitten off more than she could chew.

---

As Argyle was the expert engineer amongst them, he was naturally put in charge of the work. Zipp was also on the front lines as she had experience with the engines fitted to Class 33s. Most of the bodywork had to come off and be replaced, and the cylinders were swapped out and replaced. The engine block also needed some fixing to get it back into operating shape. The entire job was extremely messy and smelly, and before long the crew were covered in large quantities of dust and dirt from the dilapidated engine. It was lucky they had access to plenty of spare parts in the shop, or else the work would have been a lot more difficult to pull off in the circumstances.

The heavy work of rebuilding the engine continued relentlessly, apart from a small break for lunch. The other crews watched them hard at work with a mixture of bemusement and astonishment. After quite a bit of work, most of the refurbishment was completed, and the final parts came back into place.

Finally, Sunny fired the starting circuit, and the engine roared into life, producing a marvellous sound.

Argyle smiled. "I love it when a good plan comes together."

Alphabittle was amazed. "You did it!" he said. "And in 20 hours no less!" He walked down to them, and handed over the object they had agreed on.

Suddenly, a noise came in over their phones. "We're done reassembling the engine!" Pipp's voice announced on a stream. "The result is looking great! This is sweet as White pudding!"

What happened next was truly bizarre. Everybody in the room froze and suddenly hopped into a bucket, before starting to sing at the tops of their lungs.

"And did those feet in ancient times/
Walk upon England's mountains green?"

"What is going on?" Pipp asked. "I only said white pudding!"

She looked about for an explanation as the people standing in the buckets started from the beginning, suddenly spotting Izzy also standing in a bucket bellowing this piece of music at the top of her lungs.

Zipp looked over. "Nice job breaking it, Pipp."

Sunny tapped Izzy. "Why are you singing Jerusalem?"

"Good point," Izzy said, and hopped out of the bucket. "That's why you're not supposed to say those words I mentioned to Hitch earlier."

"Run," Hitch said, and they dashed for the door. Alphabittle was seemingly able to break with his earlier condition and respond to the situation. "You can't possibly be local! You would know not to say those two words in a confined space!"

But the others paid him no heed. Luckily, Sophie was still parked in the platform, and as they ran past large numbers of people standing in buckets belting out the same hymn they were able to clamber onboard with a relative lack of trouble. With a quick flick of the starter key, the Class 33 rumbled out of the platform and sped off back to Heywood.

Author's Note:

Bury Bolton Street is the epicentre of the East Lancashire Railway, home to the main station of the line and the engineering facilities, as well as two cafes. The station is one of the best surviving examples of 1950s BR architecture, and was nearly lost in the 1980s. But it was saved, and in 1987 the East Lancs began operation.

The use of the word 'twerms' is a reference to pronunciation conventions of Northern accents. In many northern accents, it is common for several consonants and vowels to not be pronounced. For example, the folk song 'On Ilkley Moor Ba' Taht' (On Ilkley Moor without a Hat) contains a reference to ducks eating worms. This is rendered in the Yorkshire dialect as 'eat up t' worms', the apostrophe representing the fact that the 'h' and 'e' are not sounded. However, very few people notice there is a small gap between the 't' and 'worms', resulting in many people pronouncing the word 'twerms'.

Alphabittle is a design of my own creation, owing to the fact very little EqG fanart of him exists.

Comments

[Thomlight Sparkle 1]

11424973
Not a problem, but Sunny is still wearing her same clothes underneath her street clothes. So you aren't completely wrong.

I can tell.

I hear you there. It's not easy trying to pull off racism related things with humans.

[Thomlight Sparkle 1]

That plan went much better than the first one.

Is white pudding the same thing as Mayonnaise, or is it something different?

[ScisetShimmerEvan]

Hitch smiled. "I understand. I hope to make it into law enforcement someday, and the CCF is hopefully a springboard to that. If I can prove I can lead well in difficult times, that's a great thing to have on your CV." He paused. "And yet, here I am, miles from home in the cab of a diesel, talking to a person who only a day ago was a complete stranger. Life is a funny thing, sometimes."

Mhm.

Alphabittle brought up a picture on his phone. "This is a Sulzer 6LDA28-B, as used in the Class 25. Me and my team can strip one of these bad boys down and completely refurbish it in 24 hours. If you can do it in 22, it's yours."

Well, she's screwed.

Suddenly, a noise came in over their phones. "We're done reassembling the engine!" Pipp's voice announced on a stream. "The result is looking great! This is sweet as White pudding!"

Not good!

"What is going on?" Pipp asked. "I only said white pudding!"

Good thinking Pipp, just what we needed.

[The Blue EM2]

11425100
Thanks.

[The Blue EM2]

11425119
upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/d/d5/Irish_black_and_white_pudding_slices.JPG

It's these. It's popular in Scotland, Ireland... and Yorkshire. Just like mayonnaise-

(BING BONG!)

It can trigger some interesting cultural responses.

[The Blue EM2]

11425121
1. Indeed.

2. Not so.

3 and 4. In the words of James May, 'What a pillock!'

[Thomlight Sparkle 1]

11425525
Oh.

I bet

[The Blue EM2]

11425535
Excuse me whilst I jump in a bucket and sing.