• Published 2nd Jan 2023
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Thomas and Friends: Make your Mark - The Blue EM2

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Sail away, Lady, Sail Away...

The sun had once again risen upon the counties of Devon and Cornwall, as it was known to do every day without fail. Plymouth, the capital of Devon, remained busy and buzzing with activity. Trains rattled in and out of the station, with services heading to various different locations throughout the West of England.

The station was also abuzz with conversation between both people and vehicles, with various diesels and electrics in discussion about what was happening in the world and people asking to finding out what else was going on.

As a Voyager pulled out of the station on its way to Aberdeen, a Class 33 pulling a slow goods train rumbled out of the tunnel at the eastern end of the station. He looked about, grumbling as he entered the station approaches.

"I keep telling you, Zipp, I am an officer, and officer's don't work!"

"You're also one of only two diesels who are mainline registered," Zipp retorted. "And seeing as Sophie went on ahead of us, this means we were the only ones to take this train to Falmouth for the festival. So suck it up and stop complaining. If you do well, you'll get a passenger run out of this."

"That would be a vast improvement," Charles sighed, as the train rolled to a stop at a red signal at the end of the platform.

"Well, it's been a long time since we were last here," Zipp said, hopping out of the cab for a breath of fresh air. "Boy can it get hot in there."

"Be glad you're not driving a steam engine," said a passer by. "The heat in those is close to a sauna! Not sure you'd take a British Rail suntan well."

Zipp's attention was distracted by a rumbling from up ahead. The ground seemed to shake as a diesel rattled over the bridge. The engine had the appearance of a garden shed, and was painted in an ugly bright read livery. At the same time, a massive train of four wheeled trucks rumbled past, loaded to the brim with china clay.

"Freight coming through!" the diesel shouted. "Give me a clear run at the banks, lads!"

Critically, the signal now cleared, and Zipp could get on her way. She retook the controls, opened the throttle. With an obediant roar, Charles pulled out of the station with his rather wacky assortment of wagons and onto the Brunel Bridge.

"What a magnificent structure," Charles said, as he rolled over it. "And it was built in 1859! Truly a testament to Brunel's genius, alongside the sports train."

Zipp nodded. "It's taking weight well in excess of what it was designed to take. And by the way, that picture wasn't a sports train. All the photo showed was an engine and tender that was yet to be attached to anything."

Charles was momentarily silent. "Still, could be worse."

On the other side of the bridge, a large sign proclaimed that they had arrived in Cornwall. Strictly speaking, they had reached Cornwall when they had reached the halfway point over the river, but the sign was put on the other side as county signs are not known for their ability to float.

They had at last cleared the platform at Saltash and could open up on the steep downhill gradients. The track seemed to rise up and down like a roller coaster as they duo rumbled through places with wonderful names. Names such as Liskeard, Par, Lostwithiel, and... Bodmin. Not quite sure what was happening when they picked that one, but onwards they went.

Zipp laughed. "I've been here once, but I'm still no closer to figuring out how half these place names are pronounced!"

"Why not ask Sunny when we get to Falmouth?" Charles suggested. "She seems to know everything there is to know about Cornwall!"

"That's probably because she grew up around here," Zipp answered.

The gradient suddenly shifted again. "I also like this for anothe reason," Charles smiled. "SPEED AND POWER!"

Zipp adjusted the brakes. "I don't think so, Charles. We're still limited to 50 with this load, and with the gradients you could risk coming off if you run quickly."

Charles huffed. "What is this, the war on speed Victorian edition?"

After quite a long period of running, the duo pulled to a stop at Truro, where the junction to Falmouth was located. Whilst they waited for the branch train to arrive, Zipp got out of the cab for some more air.

As she closed her eyes, soaking up the local sound, her phone suddenly started buzzing, and played a piece of music.

"See the ponies trottin' down the street/
Equestria is where they wanna meet/
They all know where th-!"

Zipp groaned in annoyance. "Seriously, Pipp? Changing my ringtone without my knowledge stopped being funny a long time ago." She slid the button over and lifted the speaker to her ear. "Hello?"

"Is the camera working correctly?" the voice, that of Lady Haven, asked on the other end. "All I can see is some blue blob."

"It's a voice call?" Zipp asked, mostly to herself rather than anybody around her. She switched the cameras round and held it in front of her face.

The screen in front of her was blank. "Have I set this up correctly?"

"The sound's working, but you've turned the picture off," Zipp said.

The face of her mother appeared moments later, but there was now no sound.

"Now you've turned the sound off," Zipp added. She then tried to mime what to do in order to switch it back on.

Haven seemed to get the message, and at last normal service was resumed. "Hello Zipp. How was your journey down from Swanage?"

"Almost there, mom," Zipp replied, turning the camera to show the station running in board. "We're at Truro. Just ten miles to go. We need to wait for a DMU to arrive first."

"Glad to hear all is OK," Haven replied, with a smile. "Tell the others that I said hi."

"Uh, sure thing," Zipp replied, as a DMU rolled into the bay platform.

"Hey, old timer!" the DMU called to Charles. "It's good to be out of the retirement home for the afternoon, eh?"

"What cheek!" spluttered Charles. "I'll have you know I'm only sixty, you stupid idiot!"

"Now, let's not get heated over something that doesn't matter," Zipp told both of them, before climbing back into the cab as the signal changed to green.

The tunnel was soon cleared, and the train was into the final stage of its run into Falmouth. The train descended through Perranwell, Penrhyn and Penmere, before rolling to a stop in Falmouth goods yard, where Bellerophon was assembling a goods train.

"Hello!" he called. "Have a nice trip down?"

"As good as a run to Cornwall could be," Charles said, as Zipp stopped his engine and got out.

"Seen Sunny anywhere?" she asked Misty.

"She's doing some sort of advert in the town square," Misty explained, nervously fiddling with her collar. "Just this way, along the tram tracks."

Something about Misty's behaviour didn't sit right with Zipp, but for now she ignored it and got on her way.

Suddenly, the lid popped off a bin and Izzy emerged. "T-R-A-S-H! Doesn't mean is waste! T-R-A-S-H! With a dash of taste!"

"Izzy, what are doing dumpster diving?" Zipp asked.

"It's useful stuff!" Izzy protested, pulling herself out. "Besides, this trash is your trash, this trash is my trash!"

"I'd suggest washing before we talk to anybody else," Zipp said, setting off in the direction of speech.

At last they found Sunny, Pipp, and Hitch, standing in the town square. Goldie was also there, and seemed to be speaking to Sunny. "Dear, I just want to be sure you want to do this, that's all."

Sunny smiled. "Mom, it's fine. It's just an advert."

Zipp walked up. "Hey guys! Sorry for the delay. Got the microphone you requested too." She handed it to Pipp. "You have no idea how much sneaking around this took; trying to avoid getting stuck in another boring Duchess lesson requires a lot of sneaking."

Pipp then handed the microphone to Sunny. "Just imagine you're talking to us and not much of the UK right now and you should be fine."

Sunny's eyes widened as heard the beep. "Am I live?"

"Yes," Pipp replied. "Now go for it!"

Sunny nodded. "Hey there, everybody! I'm Sunny Starscout, and I live in Falmouth, Cornwall. A lot has changed in the last few months, and I'm proud to announce that after a long hiatus the Festival of the Sea is back! Do you want to learn more about Cornish sea culture? Do you like lots of tasty food? Do you want to hear both Nathan Evans AND the Longest Johns performing sea songs?"

"Sunny, you're too close to the camera," Izzy said.

Sunny backed up. "Sorry. But with weather like this it's sure to be a blast!"

"And, of course, things will be kept nice and orderly," Hitch said, his first contribution to the entire conversation.

Sunny was about to speak again, when suddenly a pigeon swooped down and plucked the phone from Pipp's hands.

"Ow!" Pipp screeched. "Hitch, my phone! Not to mention that thing scratched my hands!"

"It probably thought it was fish and chips!" Hitch replied. "Quickly, follow that bird!"

"I'll stay here and check Pipp's OK," Zipp said.

The others set off running through the streets of Falmouth, chasing a missing phone.

Author's Note:

Hello everybody, and welcome back to this series! We are firmly back in Cornwall for regional action in one of Britain's prettiest counties. All the places that Charles and Zipp pass through are real; here's a handy list of pronunciations:

Liskeard: Lis-card
Par: as spelled
Lostwithiel: Lost-wi-thel

Quite a few pop culture jokes in the chapter are also present, from MLP to classic American songs. See if you can spot them!