"But I keep telling you," Duck said. "There are no Dukes left. They were either all scrapped or converted into Earl class locomotives. And I'm not aware of any of those engines surviving, despite how fine and stately they were."
"They're scrappin' people now?" Apple Bloom asked, in a panic. "That's horrifyin'!"
"They're not scrapping people!" Stepney snorted, as he came to a stop at Crovan's Gate platform with a stopping goods train. "Besides, what you said Duck was technically incorrect. An Earl was preserved."
"Indeed!" Sweetie Belle added. "9017 Earl of Berkeley. He currently lives in the shed at Sheffield Park."
"I didn't know that, and I never said no Earls survived!" Duck exclaimed. "Besides, my original point still stands that there are no Duke class locomotives left, irrespective of whether they were rebuilt or not. There are none left."
Peter Sam's eyes were as wide as dinner plates at this piece of news. "The Duke was scrapped?" he cried. "Mr Percival said that he was coming to open the new stretch of railway round the lake that was being repaired!"
"And now that he can't come, it means that Rheneas and Skarloey's birthday will be ruined!" Silverstream cried. "This is terrible!"
A few minutes later, Peter Sam rolled to a stop. "The Duke was scrapped!" he wailed sadly.
Sir Handel looked at him in horror. "WHAT?" he asked. "The Duke?"
"Who's this Duke?" Gallus asked. "I get the impression you and Peter Sam know more than you're letting on."
Sir Handel fell suspiciuously silent. Then Skarloey spoke up.
"I think," he said finally, "that Duck may well have been pulling your wheels, or failing that was getting mixed up."
"What is there to mix up?" Peter Sam continued. "He looked so serious!"
"People often do when they make jokes," Ocellus said quietly. "It's why I apparently miss them so often."
None of the other engines agreed, and they all devolved into a big argument, which was so loud that Mr Percival came out to speak to them.
"What's going on?" he asked.
"Well, sir," Silverstream said, "Duck said that all the Dukes had been scrapped!"
"Well he's talking rubbish!" Mr Percival said. "And that driver of his isn't such a bright spark either. There's a change in tomorrow's plan," he told Skarloey. "You will meet the Duke at 11, not at 10:30 as previously agreed. That is all." And he hurried back to his office. "Something about Big Mickey picking Sir Toppham Hatt up again with his hook, no doubt," he sighed.
"If there is a duke," Duncan said quietly. But nobody was in the mood to argue.
The next morning, the engines were greeted by their drivers banging metal plates and saucers together, in an excited and roudy manner. Mr Percival even got in on the fun, and banged a metal cup with a plate. He then checked his watch. "Good heavens, look at the time!" he exclaimed. "It's time to go! Sir Handel, Duncan, go get some coaches! We have passengers to take up the line to Lakeside!"
Off they went, to the sidings, in order to get their coaches. Lining the platforms were excited people, all dressed in the fashions of 1865. Rheneas was working an authentic vintage train (although he still had his cab fitted), and for maximum authenticity Yona was dressed in the manner that Flash Magnus would dressed in have back in 1865. In front of his train was a television train, pulled by Peter Sam. This ran a little way ahead of them so that the BBC could properly record and broadcast the scenes to the entire nation. They ran slowly up the line, as there was no reason to hurry, whistling and cheering the entire way as they proceeded up the line toward the loop just beyond Lakeside station, which had only just come back into use due to much needed repairs. After a few minutes, the two trains were switched into a siding on the side of the station, and stopped, being held there for several minutes.
"Listen!" Yona called. "Loud noise in distance! Noise like steam whistle!"
Rheneas smiled. "Ah, good old Skarloey," he smiled. "Never one to miss an entrance, is he? At least this will reduce his disappointement over the Duke, I hope."
Skarloey rumbled to a stop, pulling another rake of vintage coaches, with a massive smile on his face. "I brought the Duke! I brought the Duke! I brought the Duke!" he exclaimed, looking over at Peter Sam.
A man stepped out of the front carriage, dressed in a suit with a top hat. He had the most spectular moustache on his face, and a beard to match. He took to Skarloey's footplate (although he let Ocellus moniter him for safety reasons), and drove him around the lake and back again.
"Ladies and Gentlemen," he called, as he brought Skarloey to a stop. "I am Sir Robert Norramby, the current Duke of Sodor. It is my great pleasure to declare the new lakeside loop line open!"
There was a loud cheer. And then Peter Sam asked an awkward question. "Sir," he asked, "are you real? Is this the real life?"
"Is it just fantasy?" added Silverstream, looking somewhat baffled.
There was a very awkward silence. But then the Duke just laughed. "Ah yes," he said. "Skarloey mentioned that you had been listening to Duck and Apple Bloom (delightful pair, Sweet Apple Acres was most marvellous), and I am glad to say that they have got confused. Duck was thinking of the Great Western 3252 class, or Dukes, and he was indeed correct that none of those survived. But they are named after people, and I am very much real."
"I'll have a word with Duck," Peter Sam said quietly. But then Sir Robert turned to Mr Percival.
"Congratulations on keeping your railway alive," he said. "It must be a record for both of your original engines to still be working 150 years on from when they were built, doing exactly what they were built to do. Long life to Skarloey, Rheneas, and all your engines and workers!"
Once the cheering had died away, Ocellus spoke up, quietly. "Excuse me sir, but Rheneas would like to say something."
"Indeed I would," Rheneas smiled. "I would like to thank you all for your kind wishes, and for this lovely 150th birthday party. But Skarloey and I are not the only record engines. Why, in Wales, our brothers, Talyllyn and Dolgoch, are still hard at work, 150 years on, and both are doing what they were built to do; taking passengers down the valleys and hills. Please visit them if you can, and wish them a happy 150 years, from Skarloey and Rheneas, their little old twins."
This story is dedicated in memory of LTC Rolt, 1910-1974.