If you were to visit Falmouth one morning in early January, the first thing you would see is a vast train being shunted round the yards at Falmouth. This was because the Haven family had returned to Falmouth, after having spent their six months at Swanage, and were now returning for half the year to reside in Falmouth at the estate they maintained partway up the line.
But that wouldn't be all you would see. A friendly and familiar face in this part of the world is Fifi, a grey haired woman with yellow hair, who is usually in her bright red van. Fifi is a vital member of the local community, as she is the local postal worker. Based out of a depot in Truro, she starts her day early in the morning, just as day is dawning. Then, she picks up all the postbags in her van and takes them down the valley.
Everybody knows her bright red van with the words ROYAL MAIL on the side. Everybody smiles as they wait to greet her, and catch up on any news travelling with her. For many older members of the community who lack the internet, the post is the only way of transporting news, and Fifi is more than happy to deliver them news.
Her journey usually ends at Falmouth station, where she drops off any remaining letters for processing at the local supermarket (which has a small Post Office facility run by the sub postmaster for Falmouth). It is here she picks up any mail that the trains have delivered, and then takes it to wherever rails cannot take it. It's an awkward life, with strange working hours and long periods on your own. But for Fifi, it is ideal, as she is more than happy to help the people of the Fal river valley stay in touch with each other. Neither snow nor hail nor sleet nor gloom of night will prevent her from making her appointed rounds.
If things are getting especially tough, she'll happily help load mail bags onto outgoing trains. And as she saw all the commotion in the yard, she pulled over to see what was going on.
"What's all this about?" she asked Porter, who was busy moving some trucks.
"Lady Moneybags has come back, and this is all the stuff for her house!" Porter snorted, getting the heavy load underway. Although Porter was hardly the largest engine in the world, he was a pretty hard worker.
"That's Lady Haven, who has just returned with her family from Swanage!" Izzy smiled. "I'm sooooooo looking forward to seeing Pipp and Zipp again!"
"We saw them last month, remember?" Hitch pointed out.
"That's not quite the same, though," Izzy noted. "They're currently getting their engines sorted out at the house, then they'll pop down here to help move all this stuff."
"We'd appreciate it!" Porter grunted.
Meanwhile, Salty was singing... which was not much of a change from the usual.
"In the Belfast yard where she was made of Harland-Wolff design/
The plan was struck to build three ships that funds would not define!
The gantry raised up in '08, a nameless liner rose/
To make the journeys to New York in record time and so!
And then the trucks joined in with the harmony.
"She's the pride of the White Star Line, may her engines never stall!
Her sisters died from 'berg and mine, but she'll run for decades more!
She'll run for decades more!"
"Another sea shanty for us, Salty?" Rebecca asked, as she was released from the heavy train. She had run all the way from Swanage at speed, and was looking forward to a rest.
"Yes, and about the forgotten liner the White Star Line built," Salty said. "Unlike her famous sister, she actually made it to her destination!"
"Presumably it dodged icebergs," Hitch said dryly.
Pipp was busy hanging her clothes up in her wardrobe when suddenly she heard a cry from downstairs. She flew out of her closet and sped down the stairs double time, Zipp appearing seconds later.
"Any idea what that is?" Zipp asked.
"Nope!" Pipp replied. "But it sounded like mom, so we should check on her!"
They pushed open the door to the parlour, which was full of boxes being emptied by serving staff... and Lady Haven, who seemed to be very upset. Tears were running down her face and making her makeup run, causing her to look a bit like a clown.
"Mom, what's wrong?" Pipp asked.
Unfortunately, what Lady Haven said next was completely unintelligible. Zipp indicated to a chair behind her and helped her mother sit down and dry her eyes. "Now, what's going on?"
"He's missing!" Lady Haven replied.
"Who's gone?" Pipp asked.
"Cloudpuff! I can't find him anywhere!"
Pipp's eyes widened in shock. "If Cloudpuff is missing... then he may have been taken! I'll put out an alert on social media and see if anybody has seen him anywhere!"
Zipp chose not to mention the time Cloudpuff had run off under Misty's care, and instead nodded. "I'll also see if there are any clues for us to follow."
Later that day, the friends had gathered at the town hall, and were standing on top of a table for some reason. Sunny was the first to address the crowd. "Now, as you know," she said, "Cloudpuff has gone missing. And we'll need to work together in order to find him."
"We need to spread out and cover as many angles as possible," Zipp added. "As much ground covered as possible. When somebody sees something, send it to me directly via email. The first 48 hours are critical."
"Cloudpuff has been a member of our family for a very long time, possibly even longer than us!" Pipp said.
"Mom got him five years ago," Zipp corrected.
"That's not the point!" Pipp said. "He's a key part of the community, and to have him missing is terrible!"
"You all have your tasks, so hop to it!" Hitch said.
Izzy then hopped on the table- which buckled under the weight of five people.
Sunny looked at her. "Seriously?"
"Hitch told me to hop to it, so I did!" Izzy said. "Although it seems this table wasn't designed to take the weight of five people standing on it."
Whilst the search continued, Porter was processing mail vans at Falmouth when he saw Fifi arriving. But she wasn't in her van. She was on a bicycle!
"What happened to your van?" he asked.
"Regional postmaster withdrew it to save money!" Fifi replied. "Trying to deliver all this mail on a bike is pretty tough!"
"Sure sounds that way," Porter said.
"Oi!" shouted a voice. "Less chit chat, more work!"
Fifi got back on her bike and pedalled dejectedly away, back in the direction she had come from.
Izzy felt awful for Fifi. Maybe there would be a way she could cheer her up?
Later on, Fifi collected a package at the Haven residence, which was heading for Swanage. As she pedalled away, she couldn't help but notice something about the package was a bit odd. There was a strange smell coming from it, and it semed to be oddly mobile in places.
As she pedalled into Penmere station, she stopped the bike, hopped off, and took the box off in readiness to load it into an oncoming mail train. But the box was still moving.
She put it and the bike down and went into the station office to borrow a box cutter to open it.
But when she was in the office, there was a loud crash from outside! Leaving the box cutters behind Fifi rushed out of the building and to the platform. "What's happened?" she asked.
"Your bike fell off onto the track!" shouted the station master. "And that box! And the next train from Falmouth is due!"
The loud blast of a horn soon alerted them. "Get out of my way!"
"Great, it's Charles," Fifi said. "We need to stop the train!"
"Well, I don't have any red petticoats for you to borrow," the station master replied. "But I do have this red lamp!"
He switched it on, and it produced a very bright light. Zipp saw it and applied emergency brakes, bringing the train to a halt. "Passengers, sorry for the emergency stop." She got out and walked to the scene, to see a bike on the rails, and... an open box. With a familiar white head poking out of it.
"Cloudpuff?" she asked. "How did you get in a box?"
When it emerged that Lady Haven had mailed Cloudpuff by mistake, she was quite embarrassed. And Cloudpuff had eaten the bath supplies inside as well, which was proving to be quite smelly.
But the story ends well for Fifi. After learning of the incident with the bike, the postmaster decided that giving Fifi her van back was the best course of action. After all, a van might be more expensive, but at least a moving parcel won't tip it onto the track!