//------------------------------//
// Chapter 8-Bridge Street Boogie 
// Story: Thomas and Friends: a New Generation 
// by The Blue EM2 
//------------------------------//

To say that the girls looked ridiculous was something of an understatement. Contrary to what Haven had said, their new clothes didn't really fit them very well. Sunny looked OK, I guess, but Izzy seemed to have settled into her gown well enough. It wasn't that Sunny was opposed to wearing dresses, it was just that they weren't her first choice of clothing on a given day.

The same was not true of Zipp. "I don't understand why I need to wear this," she moaned. "I look like an iced cake."

"I somehow get the impression that Zipp doesn't like skirts," Izzy said to Sunny.

"I don't," Zipp replied. When Izzy glanced back, she continued. "I have good hearing. This thing seriously limits my movement. Why couldn't Pipp have done this? She loves playing dress up."

The motley crew wandered down the street, and whilst they did Sunny took a familiar book out of her bag and took a look inside. There was a sketch of some sort of device consisting of numerous things.

"See these?" she said to Izzy. "These all look pretty familiar. And if dad's guesses are right, we should find one of them around here somewhere."

"And we'll be one step closer to completing our goal!" Izzy said with a smile.

In that moment, it seemed as though both of them had forgotten Zipp was behind them. "That looks familiar."

Sunny suddenly slammed the book shut. "It's not what it-"

"Relax, I wasn't going to critique your drawing skills," Zipp joked. "I have some information on that thing that may interest you, but I'll have to tell you later. You never know who's listening." She indicated to Haven and Argyle, both of whom seemed to be in a relatively relaxed conversation which worked right against how poshly they were dressed.

"So," Haven asked him. "What do you do for a living?"

"I'm a university lecturer. I specialise in photography. I'm based at the University of Falmouth, and have been for years."

"I'm keen to dispell a lot of the rumours of laziness that surround my line of life," Haven replied. "Being a duchess doesn't have all the bells and whistles a lot of people expect."

Argyle's jaw dropped. "My humblest apologies, your ladyship," he said. "Had I known we would be meeting aristocracy I would not have arrived in so tardy an attire. Please do forgive me."

Haven laughed. "I'm pretty casual about that sort of thing. Besides, we all have to work for a living. My husband makes his selling cheese produced on our estate, as well as use of some of the money our family has stored up. Me? The life of a railway manager was a perfect fit, as it meant I could stay in Swanage and more easily keep an eye on my daughters." She pointed up. "Ah! Here we are! The Bridge Street Cafe, the best place in town for authentic jazz."

As she opened the door, the crew were beset with the wondrous sounds of trumpets and saxaphones, incredibly complex harmonies, and impressive virtuosity.

As the pianist launched off into an elaborate solo, the collection of people sat down at a table for five (which Haven had pre-booked for their benefit). "Some of the best music in tone can be enjoyed here," she said happily. "Nothing beats Big Band on a Friday night. The railway sometimes has jazz festivals too, which are always well booked out."

"I must make sure to attend one such session," Argyle said. "I used to be a pretty good saxophonist in the day. Then life came along and changed that. Oh well."

The three girls were sat on the same side, and looked over the menu in surprise. "What do any of these words mean?" Izzy asked. "Are they French?"

"Italian mostly," Zipp replied, looking thoroughly out of place with her hairdo.

"Hey, they have some stuff here that looks pretty normal," Sunny noted, trying to fit in with the talk. "The shrimp with grits looks surprisingly good. Prices seem reasonable too."

The silence was suddenly interrupted by somebody appearing at the door. "Good evening Pippsqueaks!"

Zipp sighed. "Let's hope she doesn't notice us."

A girl with pink skin and purple wavy hair had just entered the room, and from the looks of it had just walked in from a rehearsal for a musical. She was clad in a white sleeveless dress with a white and yellow skirt which was, shall we say, rather puffy. She bounced over to the table with excitement. "Hi mom! Brought some friends?"

"Hello darling," Haven said with a smile. "How did it go?"

"The practice?" Pipp replied. "Oh, it went great. We should be good to go tonight."

Sunny found herself beginning to doubt Zipp's narrative. Pipp seemed rather normal, all things considered. She had little time to react when Zipp suddenly spoke. "Oh bother!"

Everybody looked over to the source of the commotion. Zipp had 'spilled' something down her clothes.

"I need to get this cleaned up," she said, and walked away.

"We'll see if she's OK," Sunny said, and she and Izzy popped away from the table to follow the other girl. 

They followed her down the steps where Zipp abruptly stopped and turned to them. "The distraction worked," she said. "You know the information I mentioned? Well, the thing you're looking for from that drawing is in Pipp's tiara. If my guesses are right, you should be able to sneak in tonight during the concert and get it off the tiara."

She picked up a small jewel. "You can pop this into the tiara when you've pulled the other one out."

"We're gonna need a distraction if we're gonna pull this off," Sunny said, checking behind her to see if anybody was listening.

"Charles and I can provide a pretty good distraction for you guys," Zipp replied. "And the loud music should hopefully drown out any noise you make. Good luck."

The fact that there were other options never seemed to cross Zipp's mind.